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daycourtofficial · 4 months

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I Know Something You Don’t Know

Summary: Everyone else finds out you and Azriel are expecting a baby before you and Azriel do.

Author’s note: this is something? Isk where it came from, just went with it.

Cassian loved calm mornings. Coming home from training, cleaning up, and enjoying a few hours of calm to himself. He usually just lounges about the house, in various rooms, soaking in the silence, thinking about his day, his family, anything really.

He was sure this was to be one of those mornings, until he hears you bustling down the stairs in a quick pace.

Upon seeing Cassian at the table, calmly eating his array of sausages and bacon, you give him a nod.

The general laughs at his brother’s mate, whose arms are full of supplies to do mother knows what.

“Do you still have a body under all that stuff or are you just a tent with legs now?” He asks, laughing.

“Har har,” you reply, walking briskly through the room, “I told my nephews I’d teach them how to set up a tent and I’m running late. Can you open the door for me?”

Cassian rises, obliging your request. He loved ribbing you, but he also adored you as a person and as Azriel’s mate. You and Feyre were the best people to have as in-laws, a sentiment his brothers likely don’t share about his own mate.

“Well, I hope you all have a great time camping, don’t get eaten by any bears, please.” He says, opening the door for you.

“Ah, we’ll just be in my sister’s backyard camping, but it’ll be loads of fun. See you later, Cass!” You say, walking through the door.

Once the door is shut behind you, Cassian freezes as your scent lingers in the doorway. Your usual scent, of course, with a very soft, delicate undertone of flowers mixed in. So soft, he didn’t notice it while you were here.

Pregnant.

Cassian got the relaxing morning he thought he would. No one else came back to the house for several hours, an opportunity Cassian would usually relish and take delight in. Today his thoughts would only allow him to think of his brother and you and your babe.

His first thought was if Azriel knew, and knowing his brother, if he had any inclination you were pregnant, he wouldn’t have let you leave alone.

When the two of you mated, Azriel was insufferable. He was certain you would die from suffocation due to his hovering. On your first time seeing everyone after the frenzy, Cassian went to hug you and Azriel growled at him. You were incredibly patient and understanding, recognizing that it came from a mixture of his instincts to protect and his fear of anything happening to you.

It got so bad at one point you started bringing a spray bottle and would spray him when he was being too territorial.

Nesta and Feyre had walked into the house to find Cassian sitting at the table, pulling on his hair, a mixture of excitement and concern on his face. It was obvious he’d been sitting there for hours, his long forgotten breakfast gone cold hours ago.

“Cass, are you alright?” Feyre asks, coming to sit next to him.

Feyre’s voice breaks him out of his stupor, “Pregnant,” is all he can muster.

Fwyre looks at Nesta, “no no, not me,” Nesta replies, sniffing the air, “not you either.”

Feyre looks back at Cassian, “are you the pregnant one, Cass?”

“Azriel is.”

Feyre’s smirk drops from her face, “w-what?”

“Well okay not Azriel, but she is. She’s pregnant. They’re having a baby!”

Cassian feels ten pounds lighter being able to share this with someone. He jumps from his chair, standing in front of Feyre and Nesta.

“They’re having a baby, and neither of them know it.”

This day was absolutely rubbish for Azriel. Boring meetings, messy work, and stupid paperwork had him leaving early and staying incredibly late. All he wanted was to come home, eat dinner, and lay in bed with you on top of him.

He walked into the doors of the house, not expecting to find anyone, let alone finding his whole family in the foyer bickering like children.

“Okay but where will the banner go!” Cassian yelled at Mor.

“We already have a banner, we don’t need yours!”

“Yeah but I hand painted mine! I want them to know I was the first to know and that I’m the most excited for them!”

Feyre scoffs at Cassian, “if you’re the most excited, then why have Rhys and I already hired a team of nursemaids and nannies and have been gathering nursery supplies all day?”

Cassian rolls his eyes at his sister in law and high lady, “okay fine, you’ve spent the most money on the child, but I’ll teach them how to fly and all the best swear words.”

Mor starts to rebuttle, “yeah but I’ll be the best aunt, we’ll go shopping and,” she pauses, the first to notice Azriel’s return home, “Az, you’re home.”

All eyes snap to Azriel in the doorway, and he is no closer to figuring out what he’s looking at. Balloons are strewn about, as are streamers, there’s confetti, cakes, and what look like two banners that he can’t see what they say.

“What’s all this? Is it someone’s birthday?” He asks, walking forward and swiping some icing off a cake as Elain tuts at him and swats his hand.

“Uh,” Cassian replies, “it will be someone’s birthday.”

Azriel looks at him, “what does that mean?”

Cassian walks towards his brother, his arms outstretched, clamping down on his shoulders.

Looking him the eye, Cassian says, “do not freak out in that Azriel way you do when big things happen.”

Azriel scoffs, trying to shrug off Cassian’s hands. “I do not ‘freak out’,” his last words in air quotes.

Cassian continues speaking, “yeah says the guy who hid for two weeks when the mating bond snapped for him.”

Azriel opens his mouth to argue, but Cassian continues. “Speaking of, I saw your lovely mate as she left this morning.”

Azriel looks at Cassian, waiting for him to continue. “And after she left I realized there was a… scent.”

Azriel stiffens, his instincts kicking in as he responds, “what kind of scent?”

Cassian immediately shuts down Azriel’s thoughts, “whoa nothing like that, no. She’d never smell like another male, she’s too obsessed with you. No, it was a-a baby. She’s pregnant.”

As Cassian’s words were registering in his brain, Mor slowly lifted the banner so he could see that it said “Congratulations Bat Baby!”

Azriel looks at Cassian, deep-rooted fear of allowing his hopes to rise just to have them taken from him, “you’re sure? Absolutely sure?”

Cassian, unable to gauge Azriel’s reaction, replies with a quick, “yes.” Azriel wastes no time, sweeping Cassian up into a hug, lifting him off the ground. This show of affection was abnormal for Az, especially initiated by him, but Cassian gladly enjoys the moment.

Cassian can feel Azriel laughing into his chest as he sets him down, and everyone in the room is smiling at him, feeling his joy.

Azriel looks at Cassian, “but wait - do all of us know? Except for her?”

Cassian looks a bit sheepish, “well… maybe?”

Walking back towards the house, you walk through the open markets of Velaris, loving the smells of all the flowers and fresh bread. Walking through the vendors, several of them stop you, giving you gifts. You try to decline them, unable to accept their flowers, their chocolates, their breads. But they won’t let you give them back, and they absolutely refuse to allow you to pay for the gifts.

“I can’t just take these without paying!” You tell one vendor you frequent, Lila.

Lila scoffs at you, “it is called a gift! Have you never received one before?”

You roll your eyes, “of course I have, but this is different-“

Lila interrupts you, “it is not different. This is a gift. Accept it. Congratulations.”

You look at her in bewilderment, but a customer comes in at that moment and takes Lila’s attention. You walk through the market, your arms full of gifts from the vendors you frequent, confused as to why you have them.

You walk up the steps into the townhouse, toeing open the door after spending several minutes trying to find your keys.

“Honey?” You call out, removing your keys from the door. “The people of Velaris have gone nuts.”

You start making your way into the living room, still carrying what feels like 50 pounds of flowers. “They kept giving me things. We have like 20 bouquets and 10 loaves of bread!”

You feel him approach, helping grab things out of your arms and setting them down. “Did something happen and I missed it? Lila even congratulated me-“ Your words stop as you see the banners over the doorway.

“CONGRATULATIONS BAT BABY!” in beautiful writing, with little bats painted all over it.

Another one reads, “CONGRATS ON THE BAT!”

One written in what appears to be Cassian’s handwriting says, “I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!”

You look at Azriel, still not understanding. “What’s happening?” You finally take a good look at him, and he is on the verge of crying.

“When you left this morning, Cassian smelled you. I didn’t want to get too excited until I smelled you myself, but oh gods.”

He wraps you in his arms, deeply inhaling you. “You’re pregnant,” he laughs into your shoulder.

“Pregnant?” You ask him, clearly not having heard him correctly.

You and Azriel stopped taking contraceptives a few years ago, knowing it would probably be a century before you had a baby of your own.

“Me? Pregnant?” He laughs, “yes.”

He pauses, thinking about something. “Is this still something you want? We jumped the gun a bit with the decorating, but I assumed because we talked before.” He looks into your eyes, “if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’s-“

You cut him off, “I haven’t changed my mind, I’m just..” you trail off, looking around you, “amazed I’m the last one to know!”

The both of you laugh, Azriel grabbing your face and kissing you deeply. When you pull away, all of the inner circle has winnowed in, Cassian shooting off confetti.

“Surprise!” They all yell, laughing. The joy thrumming through the bond with Azriel is all consuming from both ends, and you’re sure everyone around you can feel it.

Cassian approaches you, embracing you in a big hug. He kisses the top of your head, then crouches down so he’s eye level with your stomach.

“Hi Cassian Jr.” he says. Azriel scoffs, pushing him so he falls on the floor.

“What? I figured it out, I get naming rights!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, dummy.” Mor tells him, giving him a pointed look as she sweeps you into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, pulling back to look at you. “Me too,” you tell her. She looks at Azriel, who has let the happiness fade enough for his instincts to kick in, “not happy to deal with him during your pregnancy.”

You laugh, “it’ll be a miracle if he lets me leave the house.” He scoffs, as if he’d ever let you out of his sight again.

Feyre approaches you, cradling Nyx in her arms. “They’ll be, what, a year and a half apart?” You smile at her, cooing at the baby in her arms. “They’re going to be best friends,” you tell her.

All of you spend the evening laughing, drinking, eating all the sweets Elain baked, and soaking in all the joy from the newest addition to the family.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff

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capslocked · 6 months

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.��

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

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hellishjoel · 7 months

Text

say my name

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in!

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle.

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night.

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words.

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor.

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter.

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel.

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker?

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love.

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles.

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up.

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen.

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell.

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made.

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes.

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design.

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste.

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk.

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter.

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing.

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all.

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides.

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter.

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring.

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel.

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you.

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.”

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention.

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention.

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look.

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself.

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in.

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you.

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils.

“Is that your girl, big brother?”

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose.

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth.

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth.

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch.

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm.

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him?

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink.

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.”

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger.

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to.

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes.

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire.

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms.

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this.

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.”

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot.

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time.

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends?

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother. “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.”

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday.

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back.

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight?

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off.

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday.

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use.

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment.

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you.

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here.

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother.

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.”

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table.

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared.

“Please, sit down, beautiful.”

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel.

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink.

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours.

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body.

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat.

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you.

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh.

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.”

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before.

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape.

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead.

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around?

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery.

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so.

“Joel-”

“Enough.”

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil.

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house.

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance.

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast.

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties.

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.”

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him.

“I fucking hate you, Joel.”

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately.

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.”

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts.

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door.

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed.

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly.

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is.

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel.

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn.

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you.

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold.

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth.

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him.

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.” He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused.

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him.

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient.

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need.

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing.

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement.

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold.

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day.

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling. You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything.

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you.

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear.

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug.

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head.

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided.

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now.

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone.

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts.

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy.

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury.

Too far. Way too fucking far.

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms.

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls.

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his.

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance.

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock.

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine.

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl.

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock.

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars.

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat.

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside.

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell.

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin.

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much.

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted.

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches.

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think.

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name.

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got.

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm.

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure.

He was like God, your God.

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's.

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth.

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it.

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-”

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless.

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head.

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though.

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you.

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight.

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much.

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today.

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him.

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching.

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open.

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips.

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on.

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge.

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?”

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next.

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper.

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him.

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was.

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him.

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight.

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge.

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear.

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome.

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak.

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished.

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking.

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again.

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain.

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together.

“Hm?” He murmurs.

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.”

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another.

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you.

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.”

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration.

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.”

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequest #joel miller x reader

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seonghrtz · 9 days

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memory #4 spin-off ★ gojo waking you up the next day.

When Gojo woke up the next morning, he was immediately startled by the figure of Megumi and Tsumiki standing in front of him. He sat down on the sofa and stretched out, surprised that his sofa wasn't that bad to sleep on.

"What is it?" Gojo asked the children, still sleepy and yawning.

"Um, it's nine in the morning..." Tsumiki played with the hem of her pajama top.

"Ah, breakfast!" Gojo scratched his head, messing up his white hair even more.

"Well, we already had breakfast!" Tsumiki said.

"What?" Gojo looked at the girl and then at Megumi, who was standing next to her.

"Kamo-san always gets up very early and usually makes breakfast in the morning, but this time she didn't wake up. We thought she was pretty tired since she hardly ever gets a proper rest from work, so we took the opportunity to make breakfast. But we don't want to wake her up, but if we don't, the coffee will get cold.”

"Oh, all right, I'll wake her up for you. I'm sure she'll appreciate your kindness." Gojo smiled and got up from the sofa, heading for his room.

Slowly, he opened the door to find himself in darkness. Gojo had bought some thicker curtains to put up in his room to block out the light, and maybe that was why you were still asleep ⸻ inside the room, it still seemed to be night.

He walked over to where you were and sat on the edge of the bed, watching you sleep peacefully. That moment was the most relaxed he had ever seen you. Gojo had never imagined seeing you in his own clothes, lying on his bed, your hair messy, and your serene face. Gojo didn't know he needed to see you like this, so domestic, so calm, until he saw you like this. It hurt him to have to wake you up and end all that peace and quiet, but Tsumiki and Megumi had gone to great lengths to prepare breakfast especially for you.

He sighed and shook his head to the side, trying to clear his thoughts and concentrate on waking you. But just as he put his warm hand on your cold arm, he felt something hard against his cheek.

"Fuck!" He muttered, feeling a pain in his cheek.

"Gojo?!" You sat up in the bed, startled, and looked at the boy holding his own cheek with a pained expression, "I'm sorry!"

"You... you hit me?" Gojo looked at you in disbelief as he felt the side of his face hurt.

You, Kamo Y/n, had just punched the strongest sorcerer of your generation, Gojo Satoru. And it was all unintentional.

"I'm sorry!" You said worriedly, you didn't mean to hit Gojo, "I woke up and saw two blue balls and a white figure, and I thought it was a curse.” You mumbled, realizing that what you had seen were actually the blue eyes and white hair of the boy in front of you.

"It would have been better if it really was a curse... You're a heavy hand, aren't you?"

"And your limitless, shouldn't you have it on?"

"Why should I have my limitless on at nine o'clock on a Saturday?" Gojo lay down on the bed and crossed his legs, almost in a fetal position.

"I'm sorry, I really am."

"It's okay, I guess I deserved that punch a little."

"Yeah, maybe you deserved it..." a slight smile broke out on your face, causing Gojo's cheeks to flush and blend in with the redness of the new wound.

If one punch was the price for the angelic sight of you, sitting in a sea of white blankets, wearing his shirt with messy hair and a slight smile on your face, then Gojo Satoru would take as many punches as necessary until he had that sight etched eternally in his memory.

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luvtak · 1 month

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wanting, hhj x reader

✧ genre/tw extreme lying in the grass with hyune on his birthday, major yearning alert, really dangerous fluff i am so sorry, i love yous and maybe a few pet names, unedited<3

✧ w/c 784

✧ this is very quick and mainly just a word dump, but i hope you like it! some sweet for the sweetest boys birthday... how lovely the first bit of spring comes with him

Sitting close this close to him you can smell the sunscreen mixing with his sweet cologne– the scent of warm weather days; springs and summers spent laying together just like this… glowing underneath the sun like two sleepy cats. It’s funny to think that you’ve laid this way a hundred times in a hundred different ways, yet the novelty never wears. His long fingers swiping their way down your arm, reaching around your wrist and holding tightly. This close he can feel your heartbeat all around him, your chest pressed right into his and the rapid thump coming from his hold around your bracelet. Even after all this time, you still get so nervous being with him, the familiarity of his love swirling in your chest and your stomach–creating shaky hands and warm cheeks.

Hyunjin’s eyes are peering down at you, striking you down with the strength of it. He’s so happy, springtime brightening his complexion with the shiniest smile you’ve ever seen, happiness leaping off of him. The warm blush settling along his cheekbones, the same color of the blossoms above you, creates a brilliant desire to heat up in you. Not a physical desire, not the disastrous need of nights past, but a fire of want… days spent waking up together and kissing goodnight, pictures and paintings, shared nightstand novels.

It’s ridiculous, you have him already– your hearts are tied together with twine; shared myocardium morphing into one beautiful beating thing– yet you don’t think you could ever stop yourself from wanting more. That wishing ache for him to be with you, too see him like a mirror to your own soul.

He told you once that being with you was like a shower of cold mist on a hot day. You remember laughing, giggling at the unexpected confession for an early morning, but you see now. This unexpected pain for loving and needing and wanting someone so much, the biting incredulity of seeing someone.

This close, both can see the evidence of the human condition wearing on each others faces, but Hyunjin has never been fonder of sun scars or smile lines–he loves you and he tells you with the blossomed trees as his witnesses.

“I love you too, Hyune.” you say, quietly though you’re alone, and his grin is a lesson in heartbreak; so lovely, like a supernova.

He never thought he could love springtime so much, had always been accustomed to fall and the icy cold weather of winter, but lying here with you he thinks spring might be his favorite. Seeing you and the flowers alight into living breathing blooms takes his breath away, makes him reach for his pencils and his paints. In the week alone he’s amassed several pictures of you, all beautiful, but none right. It’s the only reason he resents his love for you, so big and blinding, that no matter how exact the portrait is, it’s still missing that fundamental gleam you hold.

“When we get home, can I paint you again?” The question while posed so sweetly makes you groan, if it wasn’t his birthday there’d be no way you’d sit for him another time. And yet, you can’t deny how special he is–the only thing he wanted today was to spend it with you, cake and presents optional.

It’s this magic that makes you agree, and you can’t deny the excitement of seeing him work. Ever focused and hard working, Hyunjin’s world stopping even while in messy clothes and tied up hair. Seeing him paint made you fall in love with him; the sight of his color covered hands and his clear gaze over his canvas, looking over at you to smile… god you were doomed for him then.

His stare turns to the clouds now, smile still lilting as he speaks, “i’m painting you right now actually,”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes in my head I look at you, and I feel the need for a pencil or a brush. I see what colors I would use, how I would blend them together to get the exact shade for your eyes… I’m doing it now.”

It’s such a Hyunjin thing to say, yet the truth of it shocks you–what a beautiful boy he is, a rare and lovely find. Grinning like he knows he’s wooing you, staring up at the maya blue sky and painting a picture in his head.

“I really do love you, Hyune.” you tell him, and the strength of it turns his head. Lighting his eyes with a fondness made for spring, rising slightly to settle his lips over your forehead before replying earnestly with every bit of truth in his heart,

“I love you too.”

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz #stray kids #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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rottenblur · 9 months

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study break part two|J.MILLER

gif credits to @shirks-all-responsibilities not mine!!!

bestfriends dad!joel 3.3k. part one is pinned on my page

Summary; A awkward breakfast after your previous, steamy makeout sesh the night before. Luckily sarah is long gone at some cowboys house party, leaving you and joel alone. When he interrupts your study session to have a conversation more touching than talking happens.

WARNINGS: girthy age gap, reader is in 20’s, joel in late forties, head m (joel) receiving, fingering f receiving (reader) ,virgin reader (implied), best friendsdad!joel, make out sesh, grinding, lots of praise, use of darlin’, unrequited pining by tommy, alcohol use (not reader) smut, to be honest actually the filthiest thing I’ve wrote. way too many cherry popping references BLAME TOMMY NOT ME!! (legit said twice out of the whole god damn thing im being dramatic) handjob HEHE, joel being possessive. slightly inexperienced reader or maybe shes just shy bout it? face fucking major dirty talk

You sit down for breakfast at the cold, marble island in the middle of Joel's kitchen, the quietness of the early morning making you remember everything from last night. The feeling of Joel's warm lips against your cold skin, his body pressed up to yours, echoing of "good girl" fills your ears, the feeling of his-. Your thoughts are bluntly cut off, the sound of two pittering footsteps coming down the stairs. You gaze over, it's Sarah.

With a full outfit and makeup on even though it's just 8AM. Bubbly as always, you learned from your times sharing an apartment off campus with her that she is, genuinely the biggest morning person to exist. Her soft footsteps are followed by heavy ones as Sarah jumps off the last step, Joel appears In all of his morning glory. Messy salt and pepper hair, heavy eyes, a tight black shirt, and grey fucking sweatpants. He's just teasing you at this point if you weren't already blushing from those thoughts from just a couple minutes ago about him you would definitely be blushing now.

You stare for a minute too long as he yawns, Sarah spins you around in your chair. Giving you a quick peck on your cheek as Joel drifts over to the sink, pouring himself a glass of water and sipping it, while leaning against the counter. Sarah hugs you tightly, then looks at you "Sleep okay?" she says. You nod and she smiles, Joel clears his throat, and Sarah sits next to you.

“What’d you girls want for breakfast?" he said with the most breathtaking, attractive morning voice. Sarah must have woken him up, Sarah thinks for a minute then decides. "Pancakes with whipped cream?"

Joel goes to the fridge to see if they have all the ingredients for the meal, and they do. He puts on a pot of coffee while you and Sarah talk about boys and college. Gazing over at Joel every couple of minutes, you're met with his very own eyes staring at you. Every time you caught him staring he looked back down at the pancakes he was whipping up, and a tint of red comes to his cheeks. He sips his coffee and waits for the pancakes to cook. He looked so domesticated like this, with messy hair

the smell of coffee in the air, dripping coffee falling onto the counter creating a ring around the mug. The smell of pancakes as he hunches over the stove checking to see if they are done. Glances back to you to see if you're looking at him, to see if you're real. If last night was real.

The last pancake was at last done. Joel calls out for Tommy to let him know breakfast is ready. oh god, Tommy. fuck. you think to yourself Sarah interrupts your thoughts of him staring at your ass last night. "Oh I forgot to mention, Tommy is my uncle he lives here." Joel turns around with a smirk "Oh they've met." Placing the pancakes in front of the two of you then goes to the fridge to put the whipped cream on top. Tommy races up the stairs from the basement and walks into the kitchen glancing at Joel and then at you, for a minute too long. "Good morning" Sarah says the same back, then he looks down at the pancakes, sitting next to you."pancakes whipped cream on top with no cherry" he remarks.

Joel notices the wordplay on it before you do, the look on Joel's face towards Tommy makes you really know what he meant. You just reply with a nervous laugh and dig into your pancakes. Tommy and Joel in unison stare at the way the cream is messily pouring over your lips and dripping down your chin.

Later on, at about 9PM, you are watching a new film with Sarah in her bedroom. her bedroom looks as if it hasn't changed since she was a preteen the baby pink walls match her sheer curtains.

Stuffed animals still litter her bed with a large purple duvet covering it, tiny wollen blankets kicked down to the bottom. Her phone dings and she looks at the notification and immediately sits up with a smile-ridden giggle, you look at her with a puzzled look. "GUESS WHO JUST GOT INVITED TO A HOUSE PARTY" she almost practically yells.

She rolls around on her bed and jumps up running over to her closet." good for you, whose party?" You ask as she strips down, trying on different outfit options." Remember that guy from our history course?" You tilt your head. "Wanna try to be a little more specific?" She looks almost insulted, "The whole yee-haw cowboy guy"

You scrunch your face up he wasn't hot but Sarah had a weird taste."Good luck with your cowboys I guess" she throws on one more outfit, smiling and jumping up and down."You're invited I know that like-" you cut her off "yeah I'm not going to some cowboy house party no. fucking. thank you." She smiles

"I assume this big girl can handle fending for herself, if not my dad and Tommy are at the bar in the basement. Don't be shy" She hugs you and leaves her room. You follow her out and walk her out the door.

Before you go upstairs to study you think it might be a good idea to at least, notify Joel that she was going out, in case she needed a ride. Maybe you just wanted to speak to him, even just glance at him.

You walk down the lit-up steps going down to the basement. A very modern house, "did he do the remodeling?" you think to yourself.

You reach the bar and are met straight away with the sound of music booming out of a speaker. Joel and Tommy hunched over the bar counter. You clear your throat, and they turn around in unison Joel's eyes soften and Tommy's go dark with need." You need anythin' darlin' er just looking for a drink. He holds his glass of whiskey to u, the ice jingles.

You smile then look to your feet, "Sarah went out thought I'd let ya know in case she needs a ride later or something." He smiles and before Joel can speak Tommy interrupts him, "Ah what a sweet girl, lookin' out for her girl always isn't that right sweetheart?"

Joel punches him on his thigh as a way to say knock it off, he laughs and holds his arms up in defense. He's long gone from what you can tell. "I guess" you awkwardly say, Tommy gets up and stumbles making a fool out of himself. You hold back a laugh and start to walk away "Jesus Tommy the fuck is wrong with you scaring the poor girl". You hear Joel say, as you walk back up the stairs.

You're long in concentration typing, writing notes with music playing in your earphones. A song plays and it reminds you of Joel you smile to yourself and try to get him out of your head.

You stretch your back then stand up pulling off your pants and stripping your sweater off to just be left in your white tank top and white panties, lace around the edges to match your tank top.

You sit back down, putting your headphones back in. You continue studying for another good twenty minutes, and when you feel a large hand touches your shoulder you jump.

The hand pulls back and grips the chair behind you. Pulling out your earphones and turning to look who it was, a relief it's Joel. "Didn't mean to scare ya darlin' just wanted to check-" he takes a glance down at your body, slower than he has before then back up to your face. "-To see how you're doing without Sarah here, didn't mean to interrupt your studying".

You smile, copying him looking him up and down you stop at the slowly building tent in his pants you quickly look back up at him with a blush, he smiles knowing exactly what you were blushing at. "Uh I needed a study break anyways". You stand up and walk over to the bed sitting on the end. Joel's gaze follows you then his body.

He stands in front of you just admiring you. "I'm doing okay not like we were really doing much, not really a cowboy party kind of p-" He sighs and takes a step closer, your knees touching his legs now."God if I thought that lil pajama set was skimpy, I can't 'magine what you'd call what ya wearin' right now." The last part almost came out as a growl.

The harshness of his words, how close he is to you is damping your panties. He reaches to touch the lace strap on your top, completely melting into his touch.

He pushes your knees apart with his own, the denim rubbing against your bare skin. He looks down, you hide your face with your arm, if you weren't blushing before you'd definitely be purely red up to the top of your ears now.

Your knees are so weak you think if you had to stand up right now you fall straight to the floor.

A smirk comes to his face, and he moves your arm away holding it tightly on the bed."My my darlin' those pretty little panties are ruined, such an easy thing you are." It's hard to breathe now, your hands fists the blanket. Joel reaches down touching slit to clit over your soaked panties.

you let out a soft quiet whimper of his name. He pulls his hand away, and you sigh at the loss. He furrows his eyebrows looking at your open mouth, putting his wet fingers into his mouth and sucking. Pulling them out with a pop followed by a grown, the smirk coming back to his face bigger than before." such a good girl being this wet for be 'nd I've barely touched ya."

You whimper at his words "Please touch me joel, I need you." He laughs slightly at your words then unbuckled his belt pulling it off with one hand, the other reaching out to hold your face.

He unbuttons and pulls the zipper down, revealing a sliver of skin and his dark blue boxers. He tilts your head up, and you can see the need in his face way more prominently than Tommy's need earlier. you almost moan at how hot it is.

You swear you're dripping onto the bed by now creating a puddle of your own need and you're just sitting in it, for him.

"Do you want this baby?" He pulls his jeans down slightly revealing the tent in his boxers, it looks way bigger not being trapped in his pants the tip leaking precum, wetting a spot on his boxers.

You nod he shakes his head and grips his bludge "I needa yes darlin'" you smile. "I want it Joel, I haven't stopped thinking 'bout it since last night"

You put your hand on his he pulls his away, you pull down his boxers to below his balls then he sits next to you.

"God. Holy fucking Jesus." You thought.

You'd felt it in his jeans rubbing against you. He was massive then and now with it actually exposed, you couldn't put into words how big he was. Harder than last night, precum dripping out the warm red tip, thick veins covering his length. The girth alone has your mouth watering.

"Holy fuck Joel it's so-" he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear then gets close to your ear to whisper "Big? ya think you can take it sweet thing? Want me to stretch out that sweet little pussy of yours."

All you can manage is a whimper then he grabs your face and kisses you.

Starting out slow and sweet then the more moans and whimpers that are shared, it heats up. Getting rougher, more aggressive.

You pull away to spit on your hand, and he watches you "Uh uh no spit. I want you to stick those pretty little fingers into those soaked panties and use you."

He takes your hand wiping it on his jeans, pulled down to his mid-thighs. You look to him as you embarrassingly lower your hand, he nods when your hand finally dips into your panties feeling around to collect some of your wetness he groans muttering "fuck" under his breath.

You pull your hand out making your panties snap back at you, Joel's eyes are stuck on your dripping fingers.

you grip Joel rubbing the tip with your thump, then moving your hand down to his base coating every last inch with you.

Your fingers don't touch around his girth. "Good girl" A moan slips out. You quicken your pace "good fucking girl" a whimper slips out this time, you focus your hand around the tip moving your hand up and down. Occasionally just rubbing the red dripping tip.

"Ah just like that..ugh don't stop." His breathing is heavier, his head thrown back only coming back down to look at you and your hands wrapped around him. If he stared at you the whole time he would cum right there and then.

You decide to add your other hand to focus better on all of his length or at least as much as your two fist covers, three hands would cover him fully but you don't have that.

Adding the second hand was the best idea you ever came up with in your life, the whimpers outweighing the moans and the mindless words coming out of him right now are fucking. golden.

"Oh fuck look at ya, your ugh sweet ah lil hands are barely fittin' around me." He jerks his hips up into your hands.

"Just like that.. oh you sweet fuckin' thing." Another hip buck this time he looks at your hands wrapped around him, his face screws up a loud whimper followed by a moan falls out.

"Just like that ohh darlin' I love your fuckin' hands" He jerks into your hands a couple times in a row desperately.

His breathing is at an all time high, sweat is forming on his forehead the whimpers don't stop.

"Ah darling fuck, fuckin' god 'm gonna ugh". You pull your hands away, looking up at him. "Darlin' why'd you stop-" You stop his words by putting his leaking tip into your mouth, sucking it, and swirling your tongue.

"Fuckkk your mouth is straight fuckin' gold" You start bobbing up and down, taking only about a quarter of his length into your mouth, working the rest with your hand.

Joel groans grabbing your hair, he fucks into your mouth the tip hitting the back of your throat makes you gag.

He groans, starting to face fucking into you making you repeatedly choke and gag on him. "mm listen to my good girl choking 'nd gagging all over my dick, I love your throat darlin', such a ugh good fuckin' girl".

You pull back slightly and he pulls you right back down, pushing him even deeper into your throat. The loudest moan you've heard slipped out of him.

His pace quickens, roughly fucking down your throat. "Ah fuck 'm gonna cum, all down this sweet fucking throat."

He grabs your throat feeling himself fuck into your throat, squeezing it to get an even tighter grip around him.

A grunt followed by warm ropes being shot down your throat, with one last thrust and he pulls you off with a pop. You look up at him with teary eyes, spit ropes connecting you to him. "you look so fucking sweet like this, all fucked out by me, all fucking mine."

He tucks himself back into his boxers, sheds his pants, and climbs up on the bed. You follow him, straddling him and pulling him into a kiss.

He holds your hips grinding you on him, deepening the kiss. Teeth and spit are frequent in your inability to focus with how needy you are.

He flips you over kissing you for a couple seconds longer before pulling away and him adjusting to lay on his side facing you. Pulling your top off and discarding it on the floor, his face falling into your neck, he kisses and sucks, a moan falls from your lips.

He moves further down littering your collarbones and chest with dark purple hickeys. "I want everyone to know you're mine. Fuckin' Tommy can't hold himself back from what is mine, you're mine ya hear me?"

You whimper at his words, clenching your thighs together, he moves his hand down to grope your chest. "Yes Joel, ah all yours"

He's pleased with your response, he attaches his lips to your chest, moving his hands down your body memorizing every spot that he touches, that makes you squirm.

Reaching your panties he gets back on top of you, kneeling between your legs and grabbing your panties, you lift your hips for him and he tugs them off faster than you can think right now.

He eyes your dripping core almost drooling. "Look at that pretty little pussy all ready and beggin' for me."

He leans forward dragging two thick fingers over your aching clit, you whimper at his touch. Dragging lazy quick circles on it, your back is already arching at his experienced digits.

"Next time I'm fuckin' devouring this sweet pussy of yours." Drawing out a moan from you that you tried to suppress with no luck.

He quickens his pace on your clit, putting his other hand to your fluttering hole. He drags his fingers around your slit before entering, his two digits enter stretching you out deliciously.

You gasp, and your back arches as he starts to pump them in and out of you. "Jesus you're so fuckin' tight, nothin' but you has been in here am I right baby?"

You nod, you're so fucked dumb right now. All from just his fingers.

His eyes are glued to the way your hole eats his fingers right up, his fingers keeping a steading pace pumping in and out of you, the circles he's rubbing all on your clit.

You feel your orgasm building, but before you even say anything Joel is already saying it for you.

"Good fucking girl, already fluttering around my fingers, clenching them right tight, I know baby let it go. Cum for me." He inserts a third finger into you the stretch is insane, his fingers reaching places you could never no matter hard you would try.

He hits that soft spongy part in you, absolutely throwing you over the edge. You throw your head back and clenching your thighs together, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

Joel's fingers have put you in a haze, you never wanna come out of, a feeling you never want to end.

He pulls his hands away, kissing you till your breathing slows down. The haze wearing off, and you're now wrapped up in Joel's arms laying on his chest.

When the sound of buzzing comes from Joel's jeans pocket, on the floor you lift your head up to look at him. He slowly gets up to check it showing it to you.

He answers it you can hear the muffled sound of drunk Sarah. "Sarah?' Joel says getting up, putting on his jean as he tucks his phone between his face and shoulder. "Dadddddddd, I'm fucking wasted come pick me up please, thank you WITH a cherry on top." He laughs. "Okay, text me where you are."

He hangs up, pocketing the phone then leans over to kiss you on your forehead.

"Good luck she's gonna beg you for food all the way home" he smirks "Oh I know." You give him a hug, a tight one.

"You did great darlin' get some sleep now, only sweet dreams for the sweetest girl."

You smile and nod, He leaves. Shutting the door, tip-toeing down the stairs. You get the energy to get a shower, put on some clothes before tucking yourself into bed and closing your eyes.

you do have the sweetest dreams ,, dream about joel all in your guts. if that counts.

part three: here

Check out my javi fic linked in my masterlist

an!!!! god OH MY FUCKING GODDDDDD. the amount of "good girl" in this fic makes me kinda think the reader might be a good girl?? I think I might have early on arthritis from this lmao. I stared this yesterday morning took about a ten hour break and only finished it TODAY at 9AM after pulling a all nighter. writing this fueled by many large iced coffees and the support of my friends, will now be working on my boyfriends!dad joel fic now might be a couple days before the next chapter comes out. reader giving that SLOPPY TOPPY lots of smut too much smut.

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bangchansgirlsblog · 7 months

Text

Broken headsets

- Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst, slight violence?

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

(This is just a trail story, I lost my first story that was actually good ☠️I’m probably going to delete this)

“Channie?” I call for him. My hands gently rubbing his back while playing with his hair. So soft and messy.

“Mhm” he replies softly. The sound of his fingers typing against the keyboard as his headsets sat around his neck. His brown curls fluffy and everywhere.

His silver hoops sitting perfectly on both his ears and his black shirt tight around his muscle making him look delicious.

“Baby you need to eat something. You’ve been on that computer ever since you got home.” I plead with him.

He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day due to the busy schedule and lack of time on his plate. The mangers were on him 24/7 due to their comeback in a few weeks.

Comeback season meant no time for anything, no time for dates, no time for sitting around, no time for spending time with one another and I hated it. I hate it so much. It made me angry.

“Baby this is really important, I’ll be there in a second.” He quickly says not even bothering to look up.

“Chan you’ve been at it for the past 2 hours, you haven’t even looked at me.” I complain. Yes I wanted attention, shoot me!

“I’ll give you all the attention you want my love, just please let me finish this.”

Sadness fills my heart as I silently put the clothes inside the closet.

A ringing sound in my ear and a tight feeling in my throat.

I was trying not to cry. I refused to cry.

Chan was a workaholic, no doubt in that. His days consisted of waking up early in the morning to head to the JYP building and coming home very late only to do more work. Some nights he wouldn’t come home at all and he knew I didn’t like it so to make my happy, he sometimes would bring me with him to the studio but that was when he thought he wouldn’t be coming home.

Our conversations in the studio normally contained:

“Just 30 more minutes my love”

“I’m almost done”

“I promise this is the last thing.”

He loves his job and he puts 110% in it but that makes him lack in other areas. His health.

Some nights he doesn’t sleep, some days he forgets meals and other days his mental health is the worst but still he doesn’t care because he loves his Job. He loves the boys. He loves Stay.

“Fine.” I sigh. One minute meant 1 hours at this point. I quietly leave the room closing the door behind me. Leaving him in his little world.

The cold tiles sending a shiver up my spine as I walked down the corridor.

“What am I going to do with you Channie?” I whisper to myself while packing up the food.

The dishes in the sink waiting for me to touch them while the laundry basket sat in the living room waiting for me to fold the messy clothes in them.

The house was quiet. The A.C hitting my skin with cold air as I sit on the floor and start folding the clothes one by one.

Berry by my side watching me.

Our apartment wasn’t big but it was huge for two people.

Some days it was a real big hustle to keep everything clean especially when they boys stay over but other days it wasn’t hard to maintain with the help of Chan.

“What am I going to do with your dad Berry?” I sigh again looking at the dog who seemed to be care free.

I grabbed the last set of clothes and walked over to the room. Chan’s back facing me. Not even noticing me in the room.

“Baby..” I call for him as I set down the clothes and start to load them into the closet.

“What Y/n?” He says a little harsh. I roll my eyes, frustration starting to build in my chest but I decide to be the bigger person and ignore his little attitude.

“Baby do you know what we’ll be doing for our 2 year anniversary?” I asked him trying to atleast have a conversation with him.

“I don’t know Y/n. You deal with it I don’t have time. Just tell me how much it is and when it is.”

“When it is?” I ask him obviously taken back.

“Ugh I didn’t mean when it is, I mean when you wanna do it.” He quickly corrects himself and rubs his temples with his fingers.

“Atleast act like you care Chan.” I tell him honestly.

“I’m not starting an argument with you right now so please can I get back to my work?”

“Chan why are you being like this?” Ignoring his request I decide to push because honestly I was tired of it.

“I’m not acting like anything I just want to finish my work in peace.”

“Chan you’re acting so selfish right now!” I say now slightly raising my voice.

“Y/n” he says firm and glaring over at me. What’s the worse he could possibly do?

“Just listen-“ I beg before I’m cut off.

“Y/n i said leave me alone!” His voice booms and the sound of breaking glass fills the room. My body freezes. Hands shaking.

The now broken headsets and mirror laying on the ground.

“Did you just throw that at me?” I ask him in disbelief.

“Babe-“ his body was stood up now and he was reaching out for me. His face filled with panic and guilt.

“Don’t.” I say getting away from his touch. The clothes that were once folded no scattered on the ground. Words refusing to come out of my mouth until I force myself to get up from the floor.

“I-I’m going to leave…” I say softly. My heart hurt and I hope he knew that. I felt the tears that were all built up from frustration, anger and hurt all start to flow down my cheeks.

When would he realize that being with him was starting to slowly ruin me?

Pt 2 ⬇️

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

Text

Housewife

Part - 6

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff

Part 1

Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.

"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.

"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.

"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."

"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."

Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."

"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.

"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.

"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."

Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?

Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.

"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.

"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."

You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."

"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."

You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.

"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."

"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"

Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.

"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.

"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."

You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.

"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.

"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."

"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.

A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.

The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.

"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.

Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.

Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.

He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.

Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.

Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."

Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.

Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.

"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.

"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.

"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.

Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."

You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.

"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.

"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.

Part 7

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @blkroyalty1 @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @knifes0ldier @nicciekawegosblog

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

#billy loomis #ghostface #scream #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu ghostface #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #stu macher fluff #stu macher x reader #stu macher

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typhea · 10 months

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✮﹒🧊﹐MIDORIYA IZUKU + ‘MINE, HM? ALL MINE.’

﹐♡﹒featuring : midoriya izukuuu ♡

﹐♡﹒infos : nsfw content below the cut // mdni , fem!reader, jealousy sex, drunk sex (both are drunk), reader is an attention seeker, brat-taming, heavy degradation??, choking, spanking, hickeys, ruined orgasm, mean!izuku, breeding, literally my first nsfw work 😭 ♡

﹐♡﹒summary : him being a jealous and possessive little guy ♡

your husband is a busy man. he leaves early in the morning and comes back late in the night. you could barely see him in a week. you were left alone all day, thinking about him, craving his touch and affection. izuku was addicting, and it was clear that you wasn’t getting enough of him.

when he came back home, you had hope he could cuddle with you, watch a little movie or even eat dinner with you, but he was always too tired. your texts from him was full of ‘i’ll be home late don’t wait for me’ or ‘i’ll miss dinner tonight’. you were honestly fed up.

but this evening, you wanted things to change. mina organised a little party between old yuei students, izuku was obviously going to see his classmates again and see how they grew. you were going with him, and you had so many plans for the night.

the clock showed 7:15 PM, you were getting ready in the bathroom putting your make-up on. you wore a tight red dress that would embrace your shapes beautifully. you felt so pretty.

“darling, we have to go.” his tone was so cold and tired, almost broke your heart. but oh, was he handsome. seeing him would make you clench your thighs instantly, whatever he did to you, it was so bad.

you just nodded and followed him to the car. and of course, all the way to ashido’s house was made in silence. if it wasn’t that muffled and slow song from the strokes.

—————————————

the party had now begun 1 hour ago, your husband was slowly drinking and chatting with tenya, glancing at you few times. but there was the entertainment — denki was telling several jokes and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. the way you looked at the blondie smiling and waiting for the next joke, he saw it. you felt his gaze on you and you loved every second of it. you started getting touchy with denki, his hair, his arms, his shoulders. each touch very slight but so noticeable.

denki tried to spice up things and asked “hey y/n, wanna play something fun?”. your husband perfectly heard what he said, he was glaring at you two with his dark green eyes. his stare would make you giggle, but you were still staring at denki. as izuku picked up the pace of drinking shots, he looked carefully at you, rage filling his body. the veins on his arms and hands were about to pop, as he bit his lower lip to calm down.

let’s be honest, your goal was to piss him off. i mean, why would he care if you flirted a little with another man, since he doesn’t give you the attention you need? so, with joy you agreed playing denki’s game. whatever alcohol game it was, you weren’t really paying attention but 5 shots were in front of you. you just knew what you had to do, drink as fast as you could. you took all the five shots in 10 seconds and everyone applauded as you drank it all. everyone except ur husband.

mina did the same, denki, hanta and ochaco tried but failed. it was your turn again with 6 shots, then you added 7 shots and you reached your limit. you couldn’t drink anymore as you felt your legs shaking, and your vision being blurry. you walked towards izuku who already stood up to leave.

“wait!.. izuuu” you ran after him as he got into the car. you did the same and you could see that he was really, upset. he didn’t even looked at you once. you could tell he was drunk too, with how red his cheeks was, how messy his hair was and that look in his eyes would make you regret how you acted.

he started the car, and turned off the music. he started driving fast, a little too fast. you hated going fast in cars, and he knew how much.

“izu, slow down.. you know i hate when you drive fast” he didn’t listen to you. “i..- i think you drank a bit more than me, wouldn’t it be better if i drive?” you asked, literally scared for your life.

“you don’t trust me, honey?” as soon as he talked , it ran shivers down your spine. his low and husky voice made you flustered, if it wasn’t the alcohol driving you insane. “i do izu, i trust you.”

few minutes passed and he spoke again, “had fun?” tightening his grip on the wheel, letting you see his veins. “yeah, you didn’t?” “y/n. don’t take me for an idiot, you know what i’m talking about. did you had fun acting like a fucking slut?”

drunk izuku was far, far again so far from the usual izuku. you played a dangerous game, making him upset. “i’m talking to you, y/n.” he said again, his breath being slightly heavy. “w..what do you mean?” you wanted to disappear suddenly. he chuckled, a nervous laugh. “i saw you with denki, it’s been few days since we haven’t done anything so now you’re looking for other mans? my wife’s being slutty now huh?” he grinned, as he saw you flustered and squeezing your thighs together. you could search for an hour or more for a reply to that but you wouldn’t find one.

“you really want to shame me mh? you want that on the news, don’t you? deku’s wife being a bitch in heat.” he tsk and shook his head in disappointment, “n-no..” you mumbled, you hated yourself from stuttering at this moment. he was being so vulgar, it wasn’t like him. but something in your lower tummy was screaming for more.

—————————————

you both arrived at your house and left the car. you struggled to walk straight. izuku closed the door of the house as he entered last. he looked at you with a serious face, his eyebrows down and his eyes almost opened. you wouldn’t dare to move. he walked towards slowly. each step of his made your heart jump. when he arrived in front of you, it was like he took all the breath you had away. you started panting slightly. he grabbed your chin and leaned closer to your face, as if he would give you a kiss but he stopped when he judged he was too close.

“do i need, to remind you who you belong to?” he slowly whispered, you could feel his breath on your lips. he was driving you insane, you needed him. you nodded shamelessly. he slightly smirked. his hand before on your chin, went down your neck and squeezed it.

“i’m wondering if you deserve a kiss right now, honey.” he was smiling at you struggling to breathe, that was his favourite view and obviously yours too. “please?” oh girl, you were down bad. he giggled, his innocent and friendly laugh was now sounding like mocking. “nah, you’re not getting a kiss. i only kiss my wife, not bratty little sluts like you, understood?” he whispered in your ear as he let go of the grip on your neck. “i wanna hear you, y/n.” he commanded, “yes deku..” you replied in low voice. “that’s it, baby. against the wall and turn around, let me see the pussy you wanted to give denki.”

you did as he told you, you couldn’t help but smile as you heard a hint of jealousy in his voice. “you think it’s funny mh? making me upset, you like it when i’m mad at you, don’t you?” he grabs you by the waist and pushed down so you could arch your back. he lifted your dress and caressed softly your ass cheek and planted a kiss on your shoulder.

“you wore that tight fucking dress to drive me insane mh? tell me you wanted this to happen, you wanted me to get mad at you and treat you like a slut.” he said against your shoulder, leaving a hickey on it. “i .. i wanted you to get mad-..” “louder.” he slapped your ass cheek, so hard you almost screamed. “fuck izu.. i wanted this to happen! i wanted you to fuck me like you used to..” you admitted, or maybe the alcohol made you admit it. “then if you wanted me fuck you like a whore you could’ve just asked, you didn’t have to make me so fucking mad y/n.” he whispered in your ear, bruising your hip with his grip.

you heard his belt coming off, his zipper going down and the fabric of his pants brushing against his thighs. his pants were going down as he freed his cock. he pushing your panties to the side. “soaking wet, aren’t you? who made you this wet, baby? tell me.” he asked, drawing circles on your clit with his middle finger. your whimpers and the wet sounds of your cunt were quick to fill the room. “y-you did!you made me this wet izu..-” “aw really angel? you want me to do something about it?” he questioned rhetorically, you quickly replied “y-yes! izu please..”.

“tell me who’s cock do you want inside you, y/n.” he tapped his hard cock against your pussy few times and teased your folds. “yours! i want your cock, izu.. please please..” you begged, as you pushed yourself on his dick to put it in. he chuckled, “fine, since you asked so nicely.”

he slowly goes inside and make you moan his name. it sounds like sweet music to his ears. he goes deep, so deep you could literally feel him. he started fucking you, and he kept his promise. he was fucking you like a slut. deep and hard strokes, the noises of your ass clapping against him was so loud in the corridors. he grabbed your waist tightly and went feral. izuku has always been vocal in bed, but drunk izuku was worst — or better — he was shameless.

izuku reminded you how much stronger he was than you with each thrust. “who’s the one who makes you feel this good, baby? who else can fuck you this good ? .. f-fuck.. you’re so tight y/n.” he tells you, going faster. “a-ah! only you.. c-can make me feel this good..! izu.. ‘m so close.. don’t stop please..” he chuckled then slowed down, fucking you with his tip only. “it’s cute thinking that brats like you deserves to cum. i’m not making you cum tonight, not even once you hear me?” you whined as you heard him, you were so desperate you just did whatever you could “i’m..- i’m so-sorry izu.. i’m sorry please! please i need to.. i need to cum..” you were out of breath, your legs were shaking like crazy and your clit twitching literally talking in morse codes.

“you’re gonna.. ah.. you’re gonna behave like a slut again? you’re gonna make me upset again, princess?” he asked, still thrusting into with his tip only, leaving you frustrated. “no izuku! i won’t, i-i’ll be good i promise!” you almost shouted, bringing your ass back so you could take him all the way inside. “nuh-huh baby, if you wanna cum that’s how you’re going to cum. on my tip, slowly.. just like that.. don’t you dare moving an inch y/n.”

like the good girl you wanted to be, you just arched your back and took his tip. tears of frustration ran down your cheeks. you were on the edge, so close. without realising, your eyes went shut when your ruined orgasm came into your body. you moaned quietly, “that’s it y/n, that’s how little brats gets off. you did so good.. but i’m still a little.. mad at you.”

right after you came, he pounded your pussy even harder than before. he was back at fucking you hard like a whore. “ah! deku.. it-it’s too muchh..” your words fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care at all. he even grabbed and pulled your hair fucking himself deeper into you. you couldn’t think straight, you were his brain dead little girl.

“i’m gonna fill you up, my love..” he whispered, loud enough for you to hear it. once again, he kept his promise. you felt him filling you up deep inside with his semen. “fuckk baby.. you’re mine, hm? all mine.” “yes deku” ♡

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEKUUU 🤭

thanks for reading darlin! don’t forget to like and leave a comment :)

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#☆．bnha #☆．smutty #★．midoriya izuku #☆．typh’s favs!!#mha izuku #izuku smut #deku smut #izuku midoryia smut #izuku hcs

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jellyfishandry · 2 months

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Locked out of their dorm

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari

Content: unestablished relationships, Bakugo, all sfw!!, crappy writing, crushes, rushed, sharing a bed trope, slight argument, swearing, possibly ooc, gn reader,

A/N: I wrote this during school so the quality is questionable

Izuku Midoriya

He was up late training, and when he was going back to his dorm, he realized that he had forgotten his key. It was already late, and he didn’t want to wake up Aizawa. He debated sleeping on the common room couches, but it got cold at night, and he didn’t have any blankets. Then he remembered that he saw the light in your dorm was on. So after a minute of thinking, he decided to knock on your door. When you opened your door, the first thing he did was apologize for bothering you so late at night. But you were just confused. So he explained that he had lost his key, and he was wondering if he could stay in your dorm for the night. Honestly, he was not expecting you to let him in. Though he’s very grateful. He thought he was going to be sleeping on the floor, so he was very surprised when you told him he was going to sleep in the bed. And by that he thought you meant you would be sleeping on the floor. So of course he refused. You told him that he’d get cold, and that his back would hurt in the morning, and you explained that you were going to share the bed. His face went red, and he was very hesitant to even agree. Sure you guys were friends, but he never expected things to go this far. He laid with his back to you, taking care not to touch you. The idea of making you uncomfortable horrifies him. But he wakes up the next morning, with his face inches from yours. He’s very embarrassed, and he tries to get out of bed without waking you up. To which he succeeds. Later when you wake up, he can barely make eye contact with you. His classmates think something happened, but they’re unsure what exactly that something is. Mina and a few others ask him later…

Katsuki Bakugo

Everyone knew that he went to bed early. So when others saw him still out in the common room at 10, they’re obviously confused. But he refuses to answer any questions about it. When you finally head to your room, he casually follows you. Of course, you’re skeptical as to why he’s even up, much less walking you to your dorm. “Do you need something..?” He hesitates, not wanting to admit fault or “weakness.” “...Can I sleep with you tonight?” You’re obviously surprised, as he doesn’t usually ask for favors. “I beg your pardon?” Very embarrassed to say the least. He repeats his question, not waiting to tell you the reason. But when you ask why, he hesitantly tells you. Hear that, you snicker, to which he glares at you. You let him into your room, and he makes a few comments about it being messy. Though it doesn’t actually bother him. You offer to sleep on the floor so he can have the bed. But he refuses, saying that he doesn’t want to hear you complain about back pain tomorrow. But you both end up in your bed, though with some space between you. He’s slightly nervous, but it doesn’t show through. He doesn’t want to let you know that he’s got a crush on you, it was already suspicious that he went to you in the first place. He falls asleep pretty quickly, as he was already up late. The next morning he wakes up before you do, and he finds himself in your arms. He can’t deny that it doesn’t feel nice, but he has things to do. So he carefully slips out of your embrace and leaves your room. He enjoyed the experience, but he’s certainly not going to tell you.

Eijiro Kirishima

Originally he wasn’t even going to ask you, or anyone else. He told himself that he’d stick it out on the common room couches. But after only 15 minutes of staring at the ceiling, he got up and walked to your room. He saw the light from under your door, so he knew you were still awake. He knocked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. When you opened the door, you were certainly confused. He’s upfront and direct with you, and tells you that he locked his key in his room, and that he didn’t want to bother Mr. Aizawa. He originally asked for a blanket, and maybe a pillow, so at least he’d be more comfortable. And he was surprised when you told him he could sleep in your room where it’d be warmer. At first he was hesitant, because he didn’t want to invade your privacy, especially while you were sleeping. But when you insisted, he agreed. He still thought that he’d be sleeping on the floor… He continues to be surprised when you offer him the bed, which he quickly refuses. “It’d be unmanly of me to take your bed and make you sleep on the floor!!” But you insist. But he is also very insistent on you taking the bed. You eventually suggest a compromise. You both sleep in the bed. He’s at first speechless, but he agrees. When you’re both in bed, he’s practically, laying on the edge of the bed. He’s pretty nervous about making you uncomfortable by getting too close, or touching you. He wakes up, and you’re still asleep, but he sort of expected that, as he often wakes up early to get a run in before class. When he sees you later he thanks you, and he may or may not have gotten you a small keychain of your favorite hero as a thank you.

Denki Kaminari

He knows exactly who to go to. You’ve always been kind to him, so he knows you’re more likely to help him. And if he were to go to anyone else, he knew he would hear about his fuck up for weeks. It’s late, be knows you’re often up late as well, studying or watching something. He feels a little bad about bothering you, but he really didn’t want to sleep on the couches or bother Mr. Aizawa. “So I lost my key, could I maybe crash with you tonight?” You let him in, and he, like Kirishima, expects to be sleeping on the floor. But when he sits down, you shake your head and tell him to sleep in the bed. He’s slightly embarrassed, but he doesn’t protest. He didn’t really know what was going to happen next, but you climbing in beside him certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. He lays in bed for a while, practically hugging the wall to make sure you had enough room. He’s pretty tense, he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. You end up falling asleep first, and he relaxes slightly. And the next morning you wake up, and he’s practically clinging to you. Though thankfully it’s not hard to get him to let go and not wake him up. When he wakes up and sees that you're gone, he exits your room swiftly. And when he walks into the common room, he’s mildly surprised to see that no one is giving him, or you, weird looks. He concludes that you hadn’t told anyone. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed that, and that he wouldn’t mind that happening again.

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mariacrow · 9 months

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hello my fellow ratchet apologist!! love your works! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

do you think you could write some sweet and cute sleeping hcs with Ratchet? I just wanna lay on him or him lay on me <3

(ps. this is ur opportunity to write those snoring hcs too 🤭)

thank you for your love on my works too! have a great day/night <3

ROOOOSE I was bouncing off DA WALLS when I saw ur request (it’s not like I immediately started bombing you with love in ur dms nope not at all- me? Naaah never)

THANK U SO MUCH AGAIN AGH!!! 🧡 One grumpy doc hc coming up fresh out da oven! 🚑 hope u like it, love ya 🧡

GRUMPY DOC LOVERS UNITE! 🚑🧡

ʚ Ratchet x reader ��

ﾟ｡ ⋆ ☁︎｡ ☽ sleeping headcanons ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ☁︎｡

2nd person

female reader

WARNING: SNORING GRUMPY DOC!

Does he look like he needs sleep?? HE NEEDS ANSWERS!!!

Kidding. He definitely needs stasis. ASAP.

It would be hard to drag him away from work, you'd have to be stubborn to the point you annoy his way to bed

Later you'd realize puppy eyes and a pretty please also works on him which would make his cheek plates go slightly blue

He loves to have you next to him or on top of him, either way nicely tucked in, wrapped in a little blanket burrito because he can't risk you getting cold

His servos... oh his beautiful gentle servos... He'd play with your hair or rub your back to soothe you. He wouldn't speak much but here and there you might hear his handsome voice through a romantic whisper saying:

Ratchet: are you comfortable enough?

Ratchet: my sleeping beauty...

Did he do research on Disney princesses to find a proper nickname for you because you're his princess? Perhaps.

He would always watch over you before you fall asleep. Even when you do, he'd stay up a bit longer, listen to your peaceful breathing and focus on your calm heartbeat while dozens of thoughts would be running through his mind, keeping a tiny smile on his face

He always keeps one of his servos around you no matter what

He's a light sleeper so he'd hear every little shuffle you make and slightly open his optic to check on you. If your blanket has slid off of you, he'd gently tuck you back in every time and plant a soft kiss on your temple

If he really overworks himself (and I'm talking 3 days without stasis) a bomb could barely wake him up. If he ends up on his back, he snores, like, real loud. It would definitely wake you up and you'd be greeted by a funny sight of your old grumpy doc with an open mouth, shaking the whole base with his snoring

Considering you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, you'd have to give him a little nudge or gently caress his face plate to which he'd mumble something in his sleep while getting comfortable on his side as he'd stop snoring

He always wakes up before you, no exceptions. He needs to wake up early and go back to work

He always gives you a kiss on the cheek or forehead before leaving. If you'd tug at his servo and tell him to stay a little longer, he'd refuse of course

But your sleepy little begging would drag him back to bed nevertheless. He'd stay for about 30 minutes longer, listen to your cute sleepy voice and yawning, smiling while having a little morning chit chat with you

He loves your messy morning hair, it's so adorable to him

If you have longer hair and prefer tying it while sleeping, in the morning he'd help you fix your ponytail/braid(s) (whatever you prefer). Same goes if you wear a bonnet, he'd make sure it doesn't fall off throughout the night as well

If you brush your hair, he'd love brushing it for you or make your braid(s) e.g., whatever you ask him to do. He isn't afraid of the size difference, he's confident and very gentle, he learned his way with you

If you oversleep often, he'd scold you the moment you show up, telling you how it's unhealthy and blahblah

If your sleeping schedule is not sleeping at all, ironically enough, he'd tell you not be like him and how sleep is necessary for your species, how stasis works differently, how you should blahblahblah he can be such a parent but he does that because he cares for you

If you're a morning person and go to bed on time, he'd praise you for that

He'd make sure you have breakfast every morning even if it means feeding you because breakfast is the most important meal of the day!!!

youtube

What I was listening to while writing this 🧡

Dividers belong to @dvluc , @firefly-graphics , @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 🧡

#transformers #transformers headcanons #transformers x reader #transformers prime #tfp #ratchet #tfp ratchet #ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #transformers ratchet #transformers fanfiction #autobots #tfp autobots

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footygirl114 · 9 months

Text

Juntos (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

Second part in my World Cup series! As always the feedback is very very much appreciated. Read part one first for more understanding :)

Link to part one; Cuando Eramos Niños

The next few days are much the same, every free moment you have you spend it with the team so you do not get caught alone with Alexia. Not that you do not want to spend time with her, you just cant help yourself when you are around her. She still flirts but is much less subtle about it when the rest of the team is around.

On the morning of the second group game you were up very early not being able to sleep. Something just felt off to you and you couldn’t shake the feeling. Needing to move you snuck out of your room letting Ona sleep and you walked to the quiet park beside your hotel, you found it one your first morning there and the pond and fountain reminded you of home, just not the cold air.

You are so lost in tossing rocks into the pond that you miss someone walking up and sitting beside you, it isn’t until you see another rock being thrown in do you look over and give Alexia a soft smile and a whispered “buen dia Ale.”

She smiles and knocks your shoulder with hers softly saying “Hola.”

You turn and smile at her messy bed hair and the soft pj pants and an old sweater she threw on. it takes you a minute but you ask her with a chuckle “is that my sweater?”

You can see the blush start to creep on her cheeks as she says “It might be, do you remember when you gave it to me?”

Now you can feel the blush on your cheeks as you say “you stole it from me.”

“Well I couldn’t leave your room at your moms house naked could I?” she smirks back and you feel her lean closer pressing her whole body closer to yours.

You shiver and you know it’s not from the cold as you chuckle “No, I don’t think that would have been a good idea, but you kept it all this time?”

She nods and moves her hand to grab yours and she squeezes as she asks “are you okay?”

“Yeah, just needed to be alone for a bit and focus” you say and squeeze her hand back.

“I can leave?” she asks.

You pull your legs up to your chest and turn to her leaning your cheek on your knee you ask her “have you ever just woken up and felt off?”

You watch the crinkles on the side of her eyes as she smiles at you and says “sometimes yeah.”

“How do you shake it?”

She reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and moves her hand down to your cheek as she says “I just push through and focus on the game I love.”

You smile softly at her and say “I am sure I’ll shake it by game time.”

“Trust me once you have a ball on your feet your mind will clear and you’ll be focused on just the game” as she finishes she strokes her thumb under your eye with a small smile.

“Ale” you say softly.

She nods softly and pulls back standing up, she holds her hand out to you and says “come on I bet we can find a ball to help clear your mind.”

You chuckle and connect your hands letting her softly guide you, and you know that she might be right and you just need to be playing the game you have worked so hard for.

The feeling dulls once you start kicking the ball in warm up, but it never goes away and when you are lining up ready to start the second half it hits you harder again that something is off. The team hasn’t been playing bad, but the ball just wasn’t going into the back of the net. 0-0 meant it was a tense half time talk, and you were not surprised the mood didn’t help your mood.

When 15 minutes go by and nothing crazy happens you are waiting for an injury break as you give yourself a pep talk, reminding your self how hard you worked to get here and you need to last 25 more minutes to finish this game out.

Play resumes and the other team strikes quick and a fast break is had, you are following your player waiting for the cross from the other side and it comes in just as you are expecting. What you don’t expect is for it to deflect off of Irene’s knee and land directly on your players foot, you jump in front to block it but you are too slow and the ball comes flying in and hammers your elbow. It was tucked in to your body but not enough as the ref immediately blows for a penalty.

The minutes feel like hours as the ref goes to look at the screen for VAR, you cant even look at your teammates cause you know this is the feeling you had all day. When the call stands and the kick goes in you can feel your stomach drop and throat tighten. It takes every once of will power you have to keep the tears of frustration and embarrassment for not being good enough in.

The next stoppage in play, and the sub board goes up with your number and you know that you are in shit. What you didn’t expect jogging over is for Alexia to be the one coming in, but you know that a goal is needed to stay in it.

She’s standing there with her hands up for high fives and you can’t leave her hanging and you reach out to high five her.

She pulls you in for a hug and whispers in your ear “I have got you babe, watch this.”

She jogs away to get in position and when you settle on the bench you can’t help but wonder what she means. When two minutes later she has curled one in top corner from nothing, you think maybe you under stood what she meant. When she jogs by the bench and points to you with a wink you know thats what she meant.

When in the 90th minute she adds her third goal to seal the victory, and keeps her eyes locked on yours as she jogs back to your half. It’s the first moment where you feel like maybe just maybe having her in your corner wouldn’t be a bad thing, and it could be the thing you game is missing to take you over the top.

The day before the last group game, the team organises an afternoon off and the families to meet the team at the hotel. You were so happy that your mom and brother were able to fly in to see the games, seeing them made you so exciting. You were distracted talking to them that you missed someone walking up behind you, once she put her hand on your lower back you knew it was Alexia.

Turning slightly toward her you smile at your mom and say “Mama, you remember Alexia?”

Your mom surprises you and doesn’t smile or reach out to Alexia like you expected and she just says “I remember” shortly.

You meet your brothers eyes with surprise as he smiles and steps in and says “I remember her Y/N!” and reaches in for a hug as he says “I love telling people I knew the best player in the world” and he pulls back with a wink.

Both of you smile at him while your mom still has on the stern look towards Alexia. Alexia a bit apprehensive now says “I’m not staying long I just wanted to say Hola”

“Well Hola Alexia” YOur brother says with a chuckle.

Your mom continues to ignore her as you turn a bit more towards Alexia and say “enjoy the time with the family Ale.”

She nods at you and looks down at your lips before shaking her head and turning away with a “bye everyone!”

Immediately you turn to your mom with a glare and whisper out a “What was that mama?”

She shrugs and your brother adds in “Mama that wasn’t nice.”

She grabs your arm and pulls you off to the side away from the group and your brother as she says “Y/N, my sweet girl, she broke your heart years ago and I will never forget that.”

“what?” you ask her shocked. You thought you had hidden what happened with Alexia and your mom had no idea.

She smiles at your expression and puts her hand on your cheek as she says “I knew what you two were up to, and I knew that she left you.”

“What mama, how?” you are still trying to wrap your head around her knowing.

She smiles again and says “I am your mother Y/N, I know everything.”

You chuckle at that and ask “how do you know she broke my heart?”

“You would have done anything that girl asked you to Y/N, it wasn’t subtle how much of a crush you had on her. There is no way she didn’t know it.” she says shaking her head.

Feeling the blush creep up on your cheeks you say “I still would mama.”

Nodding she says “I know, which is why she needs to earn my respect again Y/N, I won’t sit by while she walks all over you again.”

Smiling you laugh at say “I won’t let her mama.”

She presses a kiss to your cheek and says “I know. Now come on let's go find your brother before he gets him self in trouble.”

Following your mom back to the crowd you think about what she said, and how you will not let Alexia in again as easy. You got here without her and you would not rely on her to get anywhere else.

You rounded out the group stage with an easy win to seal first place in your group, it was a good feeling knowing that you helped the team to get here. The good feeling slightly started to sink when you noticed you would be playing France in the round of 16. They had lost a game and took second place in their group.

The morning of the game you were again up early and sitting outside, but the difference this time is that Alexia had followed you out and silently sat beside you and let you lean against her. You didn’t want to lean on her, but you were slowly coming around to the idea of her being good for you.

When your phone pinging interrupted the silence you looked down at it with a chuckle.

“What’s up?” Alexia asks softly.

You turn and smile at her and jump up holding your hand out to her as you say “Just my roommate from back in England being a goof.”

She uses your hand and pulls her self up turning to walk beside you still gripping your hand. She asks “Is she here to support?”

You laugh out loud and when she gives you a confused look you say “she plays for France.”

She immediately stops and when you turn towards her she says “your laughing with the enemy Y/N!”finishing with a pout.

You shrug your shoulders and keep walking backwards away from her saying “You can’t stop me Ale.” and then you take off running down the street hearing her yell your name behind you. You slow to a walk into the hotel and as you head toward your room you think about how you were a ball of anxiety when you went out to the park this morning, but now you feel light and ready to go out and play.

That feeling followed you all throughout the game, which led to a 3-1 victory over the strong French side. After you had celebrated with the team you were shaking hands with the French players when you felt someone wrap their arm around your neck from the side.

You chuckle immediately knowing it was Kenza and you say “Hi roomie, did you miss me?”

She pulls back and punches you in the shoulder saying “You were supposed to take it easy on me!”

“Hey I never promised that!” you chuckle back. Shaking your head you tell her “Seriously though, Kenz that was an unreal game.”

You can see the blush on her cheeks as she says “thanks roomie”

“And that goal was wild! I am so proud of you” you tell her with a smile.

She chuckle and puts her and on your forearm as she says “Thanks Y/N, your confidence in me this last year has meant so much, you know.”

You smile softly at her as you say “Kenz, I mean it you deserve to be here, that goal proves it.”

She immediately smiles and pulls you into a hug and she whispers “thank you Y/N, the best roomie.”

When she pulls back you notice Alexia walking up beside the pair of you. You smile at her and when she’s close enough you say “Ale! this is Kenzia my roommate back in England.”

“Hola” Alexia says as she stands beside you looking at Kenza.

“Hi Alexia, Y/N has spoke a lot about you.” she says with a smirk.

You immediately smack her in the arm and turn towards Alexia and say “I was just telling Kenz how great her goal was.”

She nods but you can see something is off with her as she says “yeah it was”

With a raised eye brow at Alexia you say “It was a beauty goal.”

“I wouldn’t have had the confidence to shoot without you Y/N.” Kenza cuts in.

Alexia responds with “It was nice, but I have scored better.”

You are a bit shocked but when you see the way Alexia is eyeing Kenza you realise she is jealous. You turn with a smirk and say “yeah but it’s more impressive when its your first world cup.”

“One goal doesn’t win you 2 balon d’or’s” Alexia says a bit shortly and you almost have to laugh at how jealous she is.

You meet Kenza’s eyes and you know she is also trying not to laugh, as you have told her all about your Alexia drama and she knows this isn’t her.

“Okay then, Ale go find Jenni and talk about your balon d’or’s.” you chuckle and push her shoulder away, moving to put and arm around Kenza and walking away towards the tunnel with her.

“She was so jealous Y/N” Kenza says.

You chuckle nodding as you say “Thats a good thing Kenz.”

You both laugh and say your goodbyes splitting ways to your respective team rooms. When almost 20 minutes goes by and Alexia has still not come into the room, you have given up hope on saying something. When the last player walks out you turn and move to follow but are immediately stopped by Alexia walking into the change room.

“Ale, what took so long?” you ask her with a smirk.

She doesn’t say anything but moves closer to you, as she steps closer you start to move back. Exchanging step for step until your back is pressed against the wall. She stops half a foot from you as she says “that wasn’t nice Y/N”

“what wasn’t Ale?” you ask with a smirk.

She moves both arms and places them on either side of your head pressing her body into yours against the wall. “Making me jealous” she says and keeps her eyes on yours.

“You were jealous Ale?” you ask meeting her eyes.

She looks down at your lips as she says “You’re mine Y/N.”

Before you can argue it she has closed the gap and pressed her lips hard to yours. You immediately fall into the kiss and move your hands to settle on her abs as you open your mouth for her tongue. When she does you let out a deep moan into her mouth at the press of her thigh between your legs.

She immediately pulls back, take a full step back as she says “You are mine Y/N, and I will prove to you that you need me.”

She finishes with a wink and turns and walks into the shower section of the change room. You stay leaning against the wall as you play back the last few minutes and you can feel the tingling from your head to your toes. All you can think about is what she said, and how she plans on proving to you that you need her.

2-0 down within the first 20 minutes of a world cup semi final was not a place that you ever wanted to be in again. When England slotted home their second and were celebrating, you saw Alexia gesture to the team to come together. Using the mini huddle as a chance to regroup, Alexia proves once again why she is the leader of this team.

The team leaves the huddle coming out flying, but you still feel like you could be better, getting the score back to 2-1 by halftime. When you are walking off the field you feel Alexia move beside you and put her arm around your shoulders she waits till your in the tunnel when she pulls you off to the side down a hallway.

“Babe listen, I need you, I cannot do this without you okay?” She says as she crouches slightly to be in your eyeline.

Still conflicted in your head about not playing well enough you shake your head and say “you can Ale.”

“Look at me Y/N” she says and places her hands on your cheeks and moves you faces together as she continues “This right here, is what I play for, who I play for. I want to be the best I can be for you, and every other teammate, but its you who I need Y/N. I need you to be on your game so you can elevate me, and feed me those balls on a platter. Okay?”

You nod and she looks over her shoulder quickly and then leans in and press her lips hard to yours. It’s quick but you can feel what she is pouring into it. “wow” you whisper.

She smirks and says “Let’s go win this thing together”

“Let’s do this” you nod and follow behind her to the change room.

As the team prep continues, you zone out from the tatics talk. All you can focus on is how ready you are to go out there and prove to Alexia that you are the best player you can be. As you look up and meet her eyes watching you, you can feel the shift inside you that is screaming at you to let her in, and let her be the person you need to be complete.

She winks at you when the talk ends and you jump up to walk beside her out on the field. Lining up to start the half you feel confident and ready to get this back.

It works when less than 10 minutes in you get the chance to make a run down the wing and send in one of those balls on a platter that Alexia slots home tieing the game at 2. She takes off towards you and jumps in your arms as a celebration. When you are both walking back to your half after she says “Let’s do that again babe!”

You chuckle and then you shake your head jogging back to your spot ready to finish this thing. By the final whistle you had served in another cross to Alexia, and one to Jenni both making no mistake and putting us up 4-2 to seal the victory.

It wasn’t until later that night, you had gone up to your room to lay down, while the team continues to play cards celebrating the victory, that you see Alexia again. She was dragged off to POTM interviews, meaning you never saw her post game as you were swept up into the celebrations.

A knock on your door has you groaning as you were hoping for an early night but now you know that you’d be dragged down to play cards. You get up and open the door and smile when you see Alexia at the door in sweatpants looking cozy.

“Hola Y/N.” She says with a smile.

“Ale, come in” you say and she walks into the door and stops right in front of you. You let the door close and she immediately pushes you up against the wall and connects your lips.

You follow her lead and wrap your arms around her neck, she has hers on your hips and when she deepens the kiss you hop up and wrap your legs around her waist. She lets out a moan into your mouth and moves her hands under your ass as she moves towards the bed.

She places you down onto the bed and stands above you with a smile. You smile back and scoot up the bed to lean on the pillows watching her.

“You are beautiful Y/N” she says to you.

Feeling the blush you smile and say a soft “Thank you.”

She smiles and moves to lay on the bed right beside you. She’s on her side with her arm under her head while her hand moves to your stomach. You entangle your hands as she leans in and presses a kiss to your temple as she says “Sorry it took me so long after the game.”

You chuckle and say “You are a superstar I get needing to do interviews.”

She smiles down at you and says “You were amazing today Y/N”

“Want to know something?” you ask her with a smile watching her.

She nods and says “Always.”

You move your free hand up to her cheek as you tell her “Today I realised that I dont need to be alone to be the best I can be. You made me better and elevated me up Ale, you have always done that to me”

You see a tear gather under her eye and you move to catch it as she says “I am sorry I broke your heart when were kids”

“You knew?” you ask with a questioning look.

She nods and says “I broke mine too, but I knew I needed to if I wanted to follow my dreams and become the best player I could be. I didn’t want you to get dragged down when I didn’t make it Y/N, or for whatever you achieved to always be tied to me”

“You never said anything.” you say quietly.

She gulps as she says “I thought I was protecting you, but when I saw you again for the first time in a Spain uniform I knew I made a mistake. I followed your career and I knew you would get her on your own and not because you were with me.”

You take a moment to look at her as you can feel the tears gathering in your eyes you ask “Do you believe everything happens for a reason?”

“Si I do” she says back.

“Me too Ale, and maybe this is the reason. We were meant to become our own person, then reunite and be the best we can be together.” you say with a soft smile.

She smiles back and leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. When she pulls back she says “Can we go win a world cup, then I can take you on a date?”

“I would really like that” you tell her with a smile.

She leans down and presses another kiss to your lips, you don't let her get far as you move your hands to her head to hold her there, deepening the kiss. She moves more on top of you kissing you. You lose track of time, but when the need to breathe becomes too much she pulls back with a “wow babe.”

“No more of that until we win okay?” you tell her.

She nods and moves to get up “I should go back to my room before curfew then.”

You follow her to the door and move to press another kiss to her lips as you say “goodnight Ale”

“goodnight babe” she says with a final kiss as she disappears out of the door.

You stand there for a moment replaying the last few moments, you are very sure you will be able to do this with her by your side. You also know that if you falter she will be there to lean on and pick you back up.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt x reader

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ja-stuff · 1 year

Text

For the last 10 years

Character: Zhongli

Warnings: (Reader was never on the receiving end.) Reader has the Countdown Disease (?), light swearing, slight redundancy of words, light mentions of bleeding

Genre: Angst, only angst (no comfort at all).

Note: Another work that might have punctuation, sentence, and typographical errors as this is not yet 'again' proofread, but I just wanna post something to update you i'm still alive and writing lol. Please enjoy! ♥

09:00

[How alone must you feel every single day.]

You tossed to your left and stretched your arms out to the side where you know your partner is supposed to be sleeping early this morning. The coldness of the empty space sends disappointment in your system, slowly accept the fact that he will never stay like how he had always been in the last 10 years of your relationship.

You never knew that you would fall in love, you despised it from when you were little. So when you grew up and were of the right age, the thing you once knew you didn’t know existed in your system, overwhelming you with different kinds of emotions which drowned you to the core and you were not even expecting that it will be from an Archon Morax, Rex Lapis himself, or Zhongli as what you… everyone has been calling him in the last 10 years.

[A home that was supposed to make you closer]

Trying to dismiss the waves of memories from the events which happened last night, you tried to force a smile and patted your shoulder lightly to encourage yourself a little to get through the day. You got up and unsteadily made your way to the bathroom to wash, knocking over a few things from the hallway of your cold home located at one of the mountains surrounding Liyue harbor. Grunting, you safely entered the bathroom and filled the sink with water, but the familiar rush of a headache coming to you followed by a nosebleed that painted the water a pale red made you think of the only flower you first and last received from Zhongli. You were reminded of the silk flower and the way how Zhongli gave it to you under a rainbow from where your house was standing in the last 10 years came rushing to mind as if it was just yesterday when he went and stirred up your world.

Then again, thinking about Zhongli made you relive the disagreements he made before leaving. The images of him being slightly irritated with how persistent you were from last night’s argument, how you pushed yourself into his bubble as your only wish for his acceptance, voicing out and trying to make him understand your feelings and what you have been through, from how you raised your voice at him for the very first time to put yourself in authority to make him listen and stay. But last night was too messy and none of the words you spat you could recall. Hence the memory of how you looked at his back turned to silhouette as it disappeared in one of Liyue’s coldest-darkest hours is so vivid as if it is his sign to silently dismiss the fight without even trying to speak his mind about the matter, leaving your growing anxiety worse.

But just as the house was stirred last night full of hurt emotions and words, it is now too quiet enough to question yourself whether you have been living mute, deaf, and hidden in the last 10 years.

[A clock that ticks to remind you it’s enough]

Looking at your reflection in the mirror you read the clock that only you– you alone can see…

(Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes: Seconds)

00:00:00:08:02:55

Eight hours… Even with just the remaining hours you have, there is no Zhongli around to make you feel less lonely as you near your time to permanently leave him… To leave Liyue… To leave the world… You swallow the lump in your throat that was threatening to melt together with your tears and a heavy heart.

“What the h–hell did I do?” you voiced out… “Was it so wrong to l-love?”

“Was I not cut for this?” tears started to flow like a stream, “Was it so hard to receive o-one, when all I did was t-to g-ive?” trying to think of more questions, one thought got you.

“W–was I w–wrong to love an a–archon?”

You trembled as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Disheveled hair, a thin face, and deep and tired-looking eyes were all you have seen in front of you. In the last 10 years, this is the first time you see yourself so broken, that you do not have any idea how to keep a neat appearance in front of the Archon you loved in your final moments.

“No– what was I–I think? He– he is the person I always love… How can I say that… I–’m sorry..”

You kneeled on the ground carefully touching it as you closed your eyes and silently whispered, “Zhongli, my love, I wish you would come home early today...” knowing well that your archon lover will probably pick up the waves of your voice just by the vibrations of the ground.

13:30

(Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes: Seconds)

00:00:00:03:30:07

[How Baizhu and the others see you]

It reads, three hours… You slumped on the chair across from Baizhu’s seat in his office, you waited for him to finish passing on some instructions to Qiqi who was at the counter of the Bubu Pharmacy.

“What brought you here Y/n?”

“I– uh… How do I look first?” you asked, putting on your best smile in front of the man who you had been close to ever since you became Ningguang’s maiden years ago.

“Uh… well you look the same? Come on, tell me what’s the matter?” Baizhu gets to the point directly. Your bright smile could not fool him, and you just looked at his standing figure that is currently examining the new medicinal herbs brought to the pharmacy this morning. You got up and sneakily hugged his back, which startled Baizhu but regained his composure.

“If you only need to hug someone, go ask your archon for a hug! I’m busy!”

“Why are you so cold?” you chuckled

“‘Am not! So what happened? Take a seat.” With how persistent you were, Baizhu decided to stop what he was doing and listened to you.

“First off, here! Take this.” you gave him three sealed boxes wherein a time spell was cast. “Yours is the green one, Ningguang’s got the gold, and– Zhongli gets–”

“Wait?! You’re telling me to give this to your partner?! Hell no, why should I? You live in the same house.”

“But you know he’s not always home…”

Upon hearing your words, Baizhu’s stubbornness subsided, and watched your shoulders droop. Somehow the action you did make him feel like he is missing something that you were not telling him.

“Are you leaving Liyue harbor?” you did not answer his question and remained still in your seat as you tried to steady your breaths. “Are you finally leaving him?”

When Baizhu asked the latter, the emotions you have been trying to hide since making your way to Bubu pharmacy started to show. Hands trembling, and tears falling, you looked at Baizhu with complete sadness in your eyes, which took Baizhu seconds to a minute before he tried to search for answers in his box forcing it open but the item won’t budge.

“Silly… Stop struggling! You won’t be able to open it until 18:00. Ah, right! Zhongli… his– his is this white with gold lining box…” you let out a chuckle before you wiped your tears.

“I’ll miss you, Baizhu…” You took a step closer to him and opened your arms in front of him. Baizhu did not move from his seat, he was not sure whether to take it too as your very actions slightly gave him a sense of anxiety that he never knew you’d ever make him feel… Not from you, a friend he knew that shone the brightest as long as he could remember.

“You know… Y/n, this is scary… you’re scaring me. Why? You can talk to me and Ningguang… Y’know?” slowly indulging himself with the warmth of your embrace, he could feel your heartbeat. A beating he has never heard before…

“Hey you– are you okay?!” he stood up leaving you standing still, he racked his desk drawers to look for some equipment to try and hear your heart…

“Thank you, Baizhu…” you whispered as you left the pharmacy and ran as far away as you could from Bubu pharmacy.

“By the way, your archon went here last night and he–” Successfully grabbing the item he was looking for, Baizhu turned around but was only met by the scent of your shadows crowding the whole office.

“Y/n?”

14:45

(Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes: Seconds)

(00:00:00:02:15:02)

Two hours… and he still hasn’t gone home. You thought it was late and you did not bother to cook yourself a meal for lunch, nor prepared a meal for Morax to eat… You sat on the newly bought gazebo outside your house to breathe Liyue’s fresh air for the last time. Smiling as you take in nature's welcome on your slowly weakening body, the warm rays of the sun touching your face as it also made your hair shine a different hue from your original hair color, the breeze of nature tickling each of your active senses, the breathtaking views of the mountains, and Liyue harbor overwhelming the extent of what your eyes can see… It’s more than that.

Yes, Liyue is more than that… As you were filled with a short amount of Joy in your alone time, you remembered the lantern rite. You slowly went inside the house and looked for the lantern you had prepared beforehand, lighting it up as you softly whispered and called “Xiao” a name that you know will come to you right away, making you meet the person you knew was close to the archon you love come with just one command.

“Y/n, you called?” the familiar voice and appearance of a boy a little taller than you appeared, his eyes fixed on the lighted lantern you were holding.

“Hey, Xiao…” you flashed a grin, hiding the fact to him that you’re starting to grow a little weaker as your time ticks down. “Mind if I light it first?” you asked, voice as sweet as ever, melting Xiao’s cold soul. Reminding him how the last 10 years of being there to protect you on behalf of Morax’s command, this is the first time you initiated to light a lantern first, instead of being the last, and the sun is still up at that.

“I don’t but won’t it make sense? The sun is still running around Liyue, why light it this early?” Xiao questioned, “I just wanna be the first one to light it up for you this year… (When I see them, I’ll tell them you said Hi…)” you said but whispered the last sentence making Xiao squint his eyes trying to decipher words that were showing in your mouth.

“Here…” You walked past his figure and went to higher ground near the cliff at the back of your house. You closed your eyes and said your little prayers, as you slowly knelt and touched the ground once more to call for Zhongli, hoping that this time he’d come to you once you asked. As you let go of the lantern in broad daylight, your last words to give to Zhongli came out.

“My Morax, come home. I’m tired.” Once the silent words were delivered you felt a hot air surrounding you, and the ground shaking a little. “Get up, Y/n. I was being called by others again.” Xiao helped you up, and you just took his hand and touched his forehead.

“Oh, I see! I hope I did not take too much of your time. Also, I wish for you to accept this, Xiao. I just wanted to thank you.”

“It is my duty. Part of my responsibility. It is my honor to be called by you, Y/n.” the words Xiao let out made you feel sad but you forced a laugh so he won’t suspect that something was going on with you at the moment.

“I think you should get going now. Thank you, Xiao.” He bowed to you and kept the small box you gave him, similar to the one you gave Baizhu.

“I wish to see him cry over me before I leave.”

16:50

(Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes: Seconds)

(00:00:00:00:15:00)

Minutes… it says fifteen minutes… You only have fifteen minutes left to stay awake and see him, to thank him, to give him your last smile, to have your last talk with him, to ask him your last question, to receive the last assurance you ever wished, your last minutes to hear the words you wanted to hear more from him, last minutes to wait for him before you puff the last air you could ever breathe out, to give him your last I love you,

… and your last kiss to give him the last goodbye. Yet there’s still no Zhongli appearing in front of you. He hadn’t come to any of your pleads. He is not with you… He was never with you in the last 10 years of your relationship.

(00:00:00:0:07:00)

You sighed as you made your way back to the gazebo and sat on the ground where it stands and listened to the distant sound that the joyous people of Liyue harbor were making as they pulled their last-minute preparations for the festival. Every second felt like torture to you, thinking to yourself about how the man you loved the most did not give you the love that you deserved and was not able to give you the assurance you needed all the years you have been together.

Now, you’re drowning in your memories of the past welcoming the pain you’re feeling, with your senses deteriorating little by little, and your eyes falling its last tears along with your vision getting blurry enveloping you to unwelcomed darkness in each passing second that not even the bright lights coming from Liyue’s Lantern Rite Festival can make bring back your sight, ‘It was nice seeing the region you made brighter than ever, Morax...’

“ Morax, I–.” were your last words before you breathed your last sweet breath, your head slowly dropping on the bench, as the sound of LIyue’s people started to move near the mountain

17:00

(Years:Months:Days:Hours:Minutes: Seconds)

(00:00:00:00:00:10)

Your time is up. Your lungs are burning as it tries to take in more air. You know that it won’t make any difference even if you ask to have your time extended to properly end things with Zhongli, but fate was never once on your side after you met him. All you ever experienced in the last 10 years was anything but not love and assurance. You believed that his heart was never with you after 1 year of being together, yet you never failed to lose hope that maybe one day, he’ll be able to see you and care for you like how you were with him. But wishing is a luxury to you when you are already with an archon who can give you that, ‘won’t it be too much to ask for a little more’ Yes, you believed it is true, but if only you were a little selfish, maybe this rare disease did not come looking for you.

Accepting the harsh reality, you thought to yourself that even at this moment, you could never bring yourself to hate Zhongli, not even once in the last 10 years have you thought of hating him even if it is too painful to love him but only one selfish thought came to you, touching the ground for the last time, you whispered in your mind. “I do not wish to meet you in my next life, Morax…”

With your body losing its warmth, the last tear taking its last drop, and your pupils slowly dilating, comes the sound of the fireworks from Liyue harbor shooting at the skies reflecting the colorful sparkles dancing in your lifeless eyes…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaaaaah! How was it? I was tearing the whole time writing this one! Btw. Might make a Zhongli POV one. Unsure when to post as work has been keeping me lately. But I really hope you liked this one. Thank you so much for reaching up to this point, I appreciate it! Stay safe, hydrated, and take care sunshine!

Oh, and here's part 2!

Love,

Ja ♥

721 notes · View notes

somnambulic-thing · 1 year

Text

art student!reader x life drawing model!Eddie Munson

E 18+, so nsfw Words: 7048 read on ao3

find the sequel here

Paint It Black Summery: You’re frustrated with your latest work and look for distraction by attending the open life drawing class on what looks like a very ordinary Thursday. Eddie, the new model, is everything but ordinary but definitely a distraction.

CW/tags: characters somewhere in their twenties, meet-wild, smut, fluff, some sort of voyeurism/public erection, gets a little rough, unprotected sex, piv penetration, oral for everybody, v fingering, biting, love marks, talky sex, aftercare, art school bullshit, messy sex, artsy sex (I guess), love at first sight (I guess)

A/N: @edsforehead made me do it. (thank you so much)

comments and reblogs are so appreciated

The air is cold, stinging your cheeks as you ride your bike through a clear and crisp winter morning. It does wonders for waking you up and clearing your mind; you had spent way too long in your studio last night, hovering over this painting that just wouldn’t go the way you wanted. Inside your mind, you hoisted it off the wall to place it right in the middle of the room, a bucket of thick black paint in one hand, the other one dipping in until the medium reached your wrist. You drop down to your knees and get to work, blacking the wretched thing out one large swoop of your arm after another, sending hours of work into oblivion.

Oh my, it was so tempting. Your fingertips tickle with the urge to turn your frustration into something wild and rough and… simple.

But your Professor had sworn to make your life very hard if he ever got wind of you destroying one of your works again, so you followed the advice he had given you: You had decided to take a break. Do something different, something simple, something rewarding and easy to clear your mind to recharge your drained batteries.

So it is Thursday and you crawled out of bed after four measly hours of sleep to go to the life drawing class. You are early as always to get one of the good spots. The small auditorium is still empty except for your teacher who is busy untangling the cords of the various space heaters that will keep the model warm for the next hours.

“Ah,” he says as he sees you, “haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, been busy wasting paint.” You smile and walk down the steps of the middle aisle and drop your bag on the best chair: first platform, second chair on the right from the aisle. It had the perfect distance and angle and the top of the backrest of first row to put your feet on so you could rest your paper on your thighs and wouldn’t have to struggle through two hours and a half hours of numb feet.

“Good decision to waste some graphite instead today,” your teacher says and grins. “I’m excited to see your progress.”

You hum, unpacking your supplies. “Who’s the model today? Someone familiar?”

“No, actually, I finally could recruit someone new. He should already be here though. Maybe he has difficulties finding us.” The building was old and could be confusing if you never set foot in it before.

“He,” you say, sharpening your pencil. “Guess it’s my lucky day.”

Male models were rare - maybe two out of ten sessions - and you start to get excited about coming in today.

Your teacher climbs up the stairs past you, “I’ll go and see if he’s wandering around somewhere.”

—

The room fills with students; you say your How are you?’s and What are you working on?’s and when the clock shows 9:37, you brace yourself for the session getting cancelled. Just then, the door opens and your teacher hurries down the stairs.

“Good morning everybody. Sorry for the delay, our model got lost in our hallways. Let’s hear: anybody working on something particular and has some requests for poses?”

You crane your neck up to the back of the room towards the overflowing coat rack while your teacher keeps going through the usual procedure.

The model’s back is turned and you see a long black coat being shrugged off of lean shoulders and underneath: more black. Black lines of ink meandering out of the sleeves of a black shirt; a harsh contrast against pale skin. Ringed hands come up to the back of his head to put the long dark wavy hair into a bun.

No! you plead internally, surprised by that strong reaction.

He chooses the far left aisle down, almost disappearing behind the rows of students but your eyes follow him with a burning curiosity as if you wouldn’t get the chance to look at him for hours in a moment. You shake your head and open your sketchbook to do just anything but stare. There was a difference between observing and staring and the latter wasn’t fucking appropriate inside this room.

“Everybody,” your teacher announces, “this is Eddie. Eddie has never done this before so be patient and just let him know if he’s moving too much.”

You look up and grind your teeth. This Eddie is fucking gorgeous.

“Uhm, hi!” he smiles into the room then looks back at your teacher. “So, uh, I just get naked or what?”

Everybody laughs, but you don’t. You’re taking a long slow breath.

“That’s the general idea,” your teacher grins. “You can put your things on that table in the corner and then just come back to this spot.”

But Eddie does not move to the mentioned corner, he simply pulls off his shirt and throws it the distance to the table. More tattoos come to light; all black, no color. He then kicks off his shoes and you watch his fingers as they open his belt and his fly, how they lodge into the hem of his black, frayed jeans and pull them down in one swoop. There are giggles as he throws the bundle, aiming at the table like he’s at the bowling alley, completely naked.

And then you realize, Eddie didn’t wear any underwear.

“The rings too, please.”

“Oh, sure.” He picks them off his fingers; one two three from one hand and one more from the other. Eddie looks at them on his palm for a moment and grins. “Nah, not gonna throw those.”

The class giggles again as Eddie takes two three long strides to the table to put his rings down carefully and prances back, taking his spot in the middle of the small platform surrounded by space heaters.

There is a soft crack coming from your lap and you look down to see that you had pushed your pencil to the paper so hard that you’d broken the tip.

—

It’s as always: a series of short poses to warm up. One minute, then three and up from there.

Except it is not like always. You're flustered, you’re hot and you spend way too long staring, not finishing any of the one-minute poses.

This has never happened to you before and you had been presented with a lot of good-looking people over the years but this guy was something else.

Three-minute poses and Eddie is slouched back in a chair, long legs spread, left arm resting on top of his head, the right one on his thigh. This was sinful. You just corrected the angle of his left thigh for the third time when you look up and find him looking right back at you. No lost glance into the distance over your shoulder, no: your eyes meet. And those eyes are big and dark and curious and he holds the gaze for several seconds before the timer beeps and announces the change of poses.

He’s not only beautiful and scorching hot but also incredibly adorable. He’s giddy between poses, shaking his arms and legs - and with that his cute little ass - bouncing on his toes and you start to think that holding still normally isn’t his forte. When he lies on his belly, soft gaze on the floor, he tries to stifle a yawn once, twice and only lets it out when he’s allowed to move again. You like his dedication.

Five-minute poses and you finally get into the flow; things start to make sense on the paper until you find him looking at you again. And not only that: he mouthes a small 'Hi'. You bite your lip and look down, feeling the looks of some of the students on you.

He’s cross-legged, leaning back, hands braced on the ground behind him. The angle is weird and it doesn’t help that the way his lean, inked chest moves every time he takes a breath makes you want to bite down on those sharp collarbones. You hold your sketchpad in your outstretched arms doing those quick back-and-forth glances to find out where to correct the mess when his eyes move back to you. Every time you meet his gaze makes your spine tingle more and more and you have to bite down on your lip again to not let a fucking noise slip from your mouth.

Ten-minute poses and your teacher has made it to you to give you some feedback. Nothing you hadn’t expected: you go about it too complicated, want to do too much in too little time, too much detail. Eddie is stretched out on his back and smirks towards the ceiling.

On the next round of feedback, he tells you to really look at Eddie’s hips. You get the angle wrong, it throws off the stance, and you know why all your stupid drawings look a little wonky: you try to avoid looking at his cock for too long. You never thought about a penis as a cock before in this class and it drives you up the walls seeing it twitch slightly while your teacher keeps explaining things you already know and you’re forced to stare at Eddie's crotch, knowing he's side-eying you and your flustered expression the whole. Damn. Time.

Eddie gets a brief pause to stretch and have some water and you want revenge. While his back is turned to you - shoulder blades rippling deliciously under his skin - you open the top two buttons of your blouse, sliding the collar off your shoulder.

One final five-minute pose before the session ends with a twenty-fiver and Eddie is crouched down with his knees pulled under his chin. He shuffles a little before he really settles, tilting his head slightly in a way that forces him to look in your direction unless he wants to lower his eyes to the floor for five minutes.

When he finally looks up, you’re waiting for him, head titled yourself exposing the side of your neck down to your shoulder where your bra strap is barely holding onto your skin.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you smile, tongue poking out just a little to lick your bottom lip before you focus on the paper in your lap to roughly map out the pose. You don’t linger on him while you draw, quick glances only, but you can feel his gaze heavy on you.

This sketch is turning out to be the best so far. You lean back a little, biting down on the back of your pencil and start rolling your shoulders. One gets stiff sitting like that for so long, so people stretch all the time and nobody will notice that you’re giving Eddie a little show. You tilt your head to the right and run a hand over the muscles in your neck, massaging the achy spot right beyond your skull for a moment. When you give in to look down at him, you do it from under your lashes, taking the pencil stuck in your mouth between two fingers and let your tongue play with it ever so slightly.

Eddie takes a deep breath; you can see it in the way his shoulders rise and his knees are pressed forward. You grin and he pulls up his brows and you can’t tell if he begs you to stop or go on.

Twenty-five-minute pose and the crowd demands him to stand.

“Twenty-five minutes of standing is ok?” your teacher asks Eddie, who hasn’t jumped up like a spring toy after the timer rang.

“Uhm, yeah,” he says, legs still drawn to his torso. “Sure thing, uh-hn.”

It takes him another beat to push himself up and come to a stand. Your eyes wander from the top of his cheeks, tinted in a pretty pink, down to those hips to find him not exactly half hard, but on a good way to it. You feel your eyes roll up.

Shit.

Your teacher instructs him how to stand, feet wider apart - a little more, perfect - arms crossed over his chest which too is now slightly pink. His biceps’ flex a few times as he waits for more instructions.

“Can you turn a little, to the left?” a guy in the top row asks and Eddie does.

“Like this?”

Like this you get him in a three-quarter-view and your heart is racing; will he look at you again or did you push it too far?

“Anything else?” your teacher asks and you want to bite down on your tongue but instead it’s moving and forming words.

“Can we have the hair down for this last one?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, catching you in the middle of your request. He pinches his eyes shut at the approval of your fellow students. Below the waist, he’s twitching again.

Loosening his hair tie, Eddie musses around in his dark waves with practised fingers until he seems satisfied with what he sees in the mirror across the room. You suppress a moan, breaking the tip of your pencil again. He’s not looking at you, this time choosing to turn down his eyes while his face points in your general direction again. You curse at yourself internally; you should have just gone to him after the session and slipped him your number or asked him if he was busy after this while the both of you were still flooded with whatever this was and—

Shit!

Whatever Eddie is thinking while not looking at you did not help with what was going on in his loins. That pretty cock was getting bigger: half-hard-hello! And judging by his current state, he was big. You involuntarily grind your hips on your chair and drop your pencil in the process. A groan escapes you, sounding much too pleasant for a case of dropped art supplies and you bend down to get it back. When you come up, brown eyes are waiting for you. There is a smile playing around them while his pretty pink lips are slightly pressed together. Thank god he doesn’t look mad or annoyed, only the blush giving away that something was going on.

You can’t help it, you’re biting your lip, eyes wandering between his face and his cock and his brows draw slightly together before he averts his eyes again, breathing a few times: deep and slow.

Deep and slow.

Holy shit you are throbbing and wet and all you can do is fake another stretch and while shuffling around, press your thighs together for a little bit of friction. You tilt your hips down slightly and the sensation is so good and welcome that your eyes pinch close and your back arches. The movement is jerkily and you stretch your arms over your head to conceal it, slowly opening your eyes again.

Eddie is watching. Eddie is hard.

You grab your pencil and start drawing the spectacle in front of you; concentration isn’t the right word for the sharp focus that settles over you. It’s fucking lust.

It’s not the first hard-on you’ve seen in this class, not by any means. It happens now and then and usually a slight blush from the model was the only reaction. But this wasn’t any hard dick: you did this. You did this to this gorgeous man and you wanted to capture this with your own hands. In case he just bolted right after the session, you would have something to remember this.

You’re leaning in, literally, sketch pad balancing on your knees and bent over your thighs you almost forget the additional loosened buttons on your blouse until you catch those eyes directed at your chest. Seems like Eddie figured the damage was done anyway so why hold back now?

And fucking hell was that precum glistening at the tip?

This is when the timer starts announcing the end of class.

Eddie shoots you one final look, a sharp grin, a slight shake of the head, tips of his hair tickling his shoulders and hops off his little platform to get dressed.

“Holy shit,” says the guy next to you, leaning over. “Have you seen that dick?”

You huff a laugh that throbs in your pussy. “Hard to overlook.”

“Exactly,” he groans and picks up his things.

—

You look at drawings of Eddie of all kinds. They are all beautiful, even the bad ones. You rub your forehead catching that corny thought and look across the room where Eddie is talking to two people, gesturing to the drawings on the floor, laughing. The two of you are slowly moving towards each other. The journey consists of looking, talking: This is a good one! and That one is crap, right? and glancing to your right. You reach the row with your own stuff, groaning internally at how very off everything looks, everything but two.

Suddenly, a chest presses to your back and an arm sneaks past you to point at a drawing.

“That’s amazing.”

The explosion in your insides barely travels to your voice and you’re impressed with yourself. He even smells amazing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s one of yours then?”

You turn to face him. The smile on his face is obscene.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Eddie.”

The smile shrinks a little and his nostrils flare with the air he pulls in. His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “You… uh, made that a very hard job to do.”

“I’m almost sorry,” you croon. His face is way too close; one uptilt of your head and you could bite his plush bottom lip.

“Don’t be,” he licks the spot you just imagined nibbling on. “I didn’t start it for nothing.”

You both jump when someone hijacks your moment. “Those detailed studies are really nice.”

“Yeah, right?” Eddie says with genuine enthusiasm. “Almost the only ones who got some of my tattoos…”

“Uhg, tattoos are hard in that short time, man and you know, not really anatomy.”

The exchange goes back and forth a little longer until Eddie loops his arm under yours and not so causally pulls you in the direction you’d come from under the disguise of looking at sketches.

“So, uh, what are you doing, like, right after this?”

“You, I hope.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “You’re killing me already… where do you want to go?”

You think about this for a moment, greedy and soaking through your panties you’re in no mood to wait much longer to have him naked again.

“I have a studio two corridors down…”

His brows shoot up. “You ahm…” he blurts out, then lowers his voice, “want to do me here at school?”

“Yes, Eddie… like the pretty little muse you are.”

—

His hand is warm in yours as you pull him along behind you through the hallway past your fellow students who throw curious glances over their shoulders.

Eddie catches up to your side and leans close to your ear, “Are you already wet for me? The way you moved on that chair…”

“Drenched,” you breathe against his neck and almost stumble over your own feet. Eddie sneaks his arm around you, keeping you steady.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let me be the one to bruise you, ok? I’ll do it in aaall the nice places.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“Promise,” he adds, tapping the tip of your nose, a devilish smile spreading on his face.

You drag him on and he laughs behind you until he catches up again. There is a brief moment where you leave him in the middle of the empty foyer to get your key from the doorman, interrupting his lunch break, praying to whoever deity will listen to your horny call that none of your studio mates is in there already. You almost moan when the guy hands the key to you and you bump into Eddie’s chest face first when you turn around in a hurry.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he rasps, takes your face in his large hands and bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fists close around the lapel of his coat as he licks along your teeth until your tongue finds him. The world around you feels vague and unimportant until the doorman behind you knocks against the glass of his booth.

“I don’t need to see this, folks.”

This time Eddie takes your hand and walks on. “Show me the way, babe, or I’ll have to hoist you up one of those windowsills… you people are doing performance art here, right?”

Eddie is mumbling filthy things at you the whole way down the empty corridor where your shared studio is the last room on the left. You try to fumble the key into the lock and drop it because Eddie is already busy bruising your neck. Pressed flat to your back he brushed your hair to the side and started sucking at the spot just below your ear, his hands sneaking around you, cupping your tits through your blouse. As you bend down to pick up the key, Eddie grabs your hips and rolls his own against you, almost pushing you into the door. You both laugh and he pulls you up by your waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles as you finally unlock the door. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You let him inside and lock the door behind you.

“What’s your workspace?” he asks, already poking his nose into things. “No! Don’t tell me… it’s… this one.”

“How did you know?” you ask surprised, taking off your coat and fully unbuttoning your blouse while he looks at your work lined up on the wall, hand on his chin like a proper little art critic.

“Well, I saw your drawings and this stuff here… it has the same… Duktus?”

“Christ,” you moan and he looks at you. “That was so sexy.”

“Hey, you’re starting without me?”

Eddie rushes to you, hands instantly sliding inside your open blouse against your bare skin. His hands are rough, calloused in some places and the slight scratch is making you shiver in his arms. He pulls the fabric off of you and drops it to the ground. His coat falls next, then his shirt. Eddie hisses as you sink your teeth into his collarbone as soon as you have access to them.

“Too much?”

His eyes are lidded and so very dark as he shakes his head. “Just start pulling my hair too and you’ll never get rid of me again…”

“That a threat or another promise?” you purr as you open his belt and fly over the impressive bulge in his pants.

“Which one turns you on more?” You hook your fingers into his waistband and drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you, making his breath hitch. “Oh, s-shit…”

This is the close-up you've been yearning for all morning. Fully hard and flushed a deep pink already; you wonder if it will feel as heavy on your tongue as it looks. You run a finger along the underside and it twitches again, bobbing up and down in front of your face. You lean in, stick out your tongue and give the swollen tip a lick that makes Eddie whimper above you.

Again you meet his eyes and the expression in them is so unexpectedly soft that you almost whimper too. Your cunt is clenching around horrible nothingness as you lick him again, flat tongue sliding along the underside, feeling a vein, tasting salt, watching those big brown eyes roll up and close as a moan escapes him.

“You’re gorgeous, holy shit.” You firmly grip his cock around the base and stroke him a few times, your mouth watering, before you close your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling in lazy circles around it. Eddie’s breath is uneven and laced with soft moans from his glistening parted lips while you softly play around with his cock. Every twitch of his face is a delight, the way his abdomen tenses when you press small kisses to the length of his shaft makes you swoon with adoration. You reach up one hand to trace up the lines of a tattoo on his ribcage and he catches it, pressing it flat against his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat pounds against your palm and you moan around his cock.

“Holy… fuck… I wanna watch you so bad but I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, big boy,” you say in a low voice. “Look at me.”

It takes him a few more seconds until he opens his eyes and looks down at you; the moment you lock eyes you take him down as far as you can. A string of loud but mostly intangible curses echoes through the large room as you suck him down again and again in long leisurely motions. Your lips stretched around his girth curl up into a smile when his hands look for something to hold onto in your hair and you place your index finger at the corner of your mouth without stopping your onslaught to signal him to keep the volume down.

“Sorry, ah fuck fuck FUCK… I’ll try… shit I’m balls deep in your mouth and still don’t know your name—”

You don’t want to stop, not even for the moment to tell him your name. There’s a big portfolio folder leaning against the wall and you point in the general direction before running your fingers through the dark curls around his base and up the trail to his stomach while he’s trying to figure out what you’re showing him, failing at his attempt to stay quiet.

Then he says it: your name, no, he moans it. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

Suddenly your abdomen is on fire and you have to pull back to catch your breath. But you can’t, not really, because Eddie has kicked off his pants the rest of the way, dropped to the floor and pushed you to your back to peel you out of your clothes.

The floor is cold under your ass and back and you thump your head a little as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “keep manhandling me.”

Eddie grins like the devil himself and goes to work. He’s everywhere: kissing, lapping biting at your mouth, your jaw your neck your tits, his fingers pushed into your thighs and you know it will bruise. He’s keeping his promise, leaving wet tingling marks all over you, a purple trail of small galaxies. His fingers find your cunt, finally, and Eddie eats the moan out of your mouth.

“Shh,” he says with a cocky laugh, his forehead pressed to yours, two fingers circling your clit in dragging motions. “You’re loud, beautiful. You don’t want us to get caught before I had a chance to fuck you.”

“N-no… ahhh.” Two thick fingers slide into you and your muscles grip down hard at the sudden intrusion.

“Hi,” he grins down at you as if he wasn’t just pounding your g-spot out of nowhere and making you see stars.

You hold on to his face, grappling for purchase and finally wind your fingers into this wild tickling hair and pull.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I— I’m so close.”

“Keep holding on,” he groans and moves down your body, fingers stilling for a moment.

You keep your hands in his hair, pulling in frustration from the ebbing pleasure.

“Of course, you have the prettiest fucking pussy, you—“ he doesn’t finish his thought, diving in with his tongue to lap at your clit like he’d been starving for you his whole life.

You bite the back of your hand to keep from yelling out at the sight alone. His eyes meet yours, of course they do and he sucks one of your lips into his mouth.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie… what’s your last name?”

“Munson,” he mumbles against your core and keeps on feasting.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie Munson… ahhh don’t stop please.”

And he doesn’t. He gives you his fingers and his mouth, his eyes fixed on you— well, most of the time, he keeps looking to a spot behind you but you have no time to inquire as your legs start to tremble and everything inside you starts to tense and pulse and you’re coming apart under his mouth before you’ve really seen it coming.

Yeah, that guy was something else.

When you’ve come down he gently pulls his fingers from you and litters your thighs and belly with kisses. His fingers are sticky against your skin but a slight roughness remains.

Your head lolls against the floor while you’re still blissed out and Eddie still puts those feathery kisses to your skin.

“You… you’re a musician…” you drawl out.

He looks up. “Yeah! How do you know?”

You take his hand from your chest and lick your wetness from his fingers before you turn his palm to him, sliding a fingertip over the calloused skin.

“You like that?” he grins.

You let go of his hand and nod. “Something with strings?”

“Guitar. And vocals.”

“Fuck you, you’re way too hot as it is…” you squeeze him with your thighs and his eyes go to that spot behind you again before he kisses your chest.

“What do you keep looking at?” you wiggle and crane your neck. It’s that painting. The one that has been haunting you for weeks.

“Sorry,” he scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know, draws me in somehow… it’s… weird… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be…” you say and pull him up to you, kissing him. “You’re right.”

“Yeah?” he glances over again. “Well, fuck… yeah… m’ not gonna lie to you it’s kinda terrifying.” You both laugh. The warmth in your chest only expands more.

“Want to slather me in paint and fuck me against it?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances between your face and the canvas. “Yes? Fuck yes!”

He pulls you up and into a hungry kiss, his thick cock hard against your belly.

“Is that stuff safe to use?” he points his chin to some paint tubes on the trolley in the corner.

“No, oh god, no. But…” you leave him to look for a large bottle of black paint letting out a triumphant ha when you find it. You turn around beaming. “This here is… and will wash out of hair with no problem.”

“Come here…” he curls his finger to beckon you to him. “And hand that over.”

“Is that turning you on?” you ask as you join him.

“You have no idea.” Eddie takes the paint from you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest. “You’re so pretty already with all my marks on you.” He walks you over to the canvas that way, his lips pressed close to your ear.

You turn in his arm and reach for his cock, stroking him softly. “How do you want me?”

“Fuck if I know… gimme a second and don’t stop that.” He looks at the canvas, really thinking about this. You suddenly want to pull his hair again. “Hands above your head, babe,” he says, opening the bottle of paint and squirts a generous amount into his hand. “Keep them clean. You have to put me inside you.”

You lean against the canvas; it’s large, so large that your outstretched arms above your head just graze the wooden frame inside.

Eddie’s hands are dripping black paint as he grabs your hips, bends down and sucks your nipple into his mouth before he kisses up to the crook of your shoulder to suck on you once more. “One last one before I make a mess out of you.” The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the cool paint as he slides his hands up your sides to your ribs makes you squirm and whimper. Eddie steps back to look at his work.

“Fuck, I’m an artist.”

He grabs the bottle from the floor and gets more paint, letting it drip right to your tits before smudging with splayed fingers. You watch him, mesmerized. When he is satisfied, he spins you around and pats your thigh as a sign to widen your stance. You feel him shuffle behind you as he presses himself against you and your chest against the canvas.

“Ready?”

You reach down, fumbling in the air for a moment before you find him. “You ready?”

“Ye—ahhhh, you little minx,” he groans as you line him up and push back on him half the way. He holds you steady and slides in the rest of the way breathing out a long low fuuuuck. Then he stills. “Are you holding your breath? You ok?”

You are more than ok and you let the air out, your forehead dropping against the canvas. “It was that or letting everybody in the building know I’m getting stretched real fucking good right now…”

He angles your hips back and pushes closer. “Yeah, you are… shit, you’re unreal.”

“And you’re big. Gimme a moment.”

“All the time you want, I’m cosy here.”

While you get used to the stretch, Eddie caresses your back, rubbing small circles up the sides of your spine.

“I have a show next Tuesday,” he says kissing your shoulder. “Would love to see you in the first row.”

“Wouldn’t miss it… I assume it’s something hard?” you wiggle your ass, making you both sigh.

“You like it hard?” he laughs. “Music, I mean.”

“I do.”

“’Course you do. Can I fuck you now? Please?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Before the paint dries.”

He starts slow, pulling out almost all the way and sliding back in till he bottoms out. Your front slides against the canvas blackening out parts of it in big splotches.

“How’s this?” He’s so careful it makes your throat feel tight.

“You feel in-incredible.” You push back, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace.

“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Then you’re just getting lost in each other. His movements get rougher, more confident as he thrusts into you. You feel him deep inside you lighting little fires everywhere. A hand presses to the canvas next to your head, an arm loops around your waist and you yelp as he sharply slams into you. You beg him to do it again but he’s already on it, relentlessly fucking you into the canvas. Most of the paint is dry now, it’s prickling on your skin. Eddie moans your name into your ear, squeezing your tits and you squeeze your muscles around his cock.

“Shhh, babe…” you chuckle after he cries out.

“Fuck you,” he laughs hoarsely into your hair.

You’re so close again and you slip your hand between your legs but Eddie stops and pulls your arm to your back. “No nono, shit, not-not like that…”

“Eddie…”

“Stay like that,” he says and pulls out of you, leaving you empty and confused. There is some shuffling and then he is back behind you. “Going to be cold.”

“What— uhn!”

Paint trickles onto your arched back, sliding down your spine and making you shiver. Eddie gives your ass a little smack and turns you around, crowding you against the canvas, and hoists you up by your thighs.

“Oh my god,” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck while he balances you out.

“Can’t do that all day but you’re close ‘n I wanna see that face when you come.” He leans you back to create some space between you. “Help me out, put me back inside you…”

You do as you’re told and you clench your thighs hard around his hips as he starts up almost at the same pace he stopped. He kisses you, so sloppy so wet you feel a string of spit between your mouths when he pulls back again to hook his arms under your knees and spreads you open so wide that you’re crying out his name.

“I got you,” he assures you, pounding into you at a new angle, so deep it makes you dizzy. “I got you, you can juuust fall apart…”

The noises you two are making where you’re joined are obscene.

“Holy shit,” you moan, “li-listen… those sounds.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder, sweat dripping from his forehead onto you. “Like fucking music…”

You laugh. “Fucking music indeed.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he presses out through a laugh and really leans into you. You grab a thick strand of hair and pull as your insides begin to tense.

“Oh… oh shit, don’t stop.”

The world tilts as he leans you back again. “Wouldn’t dare… touch yourself for me, I need to feel you come around me.”

“Come inside me, yeah?” you rasp as you circle your swollen throbbing clit.

His eyes bore into yours, the strain and pleasure all over his face. He’s a mess as much as you are. “Come on, darling… come for me… I want you to run through my fingers.”

And you swear you do: your head thumps against the wood frame as your muscles try to create a black hole or whatever happens under so much pressure, but who cares when this stupidly perfect man fucks you through the hardest orgasm anyone ever had while looking at you like he was fulfilling his fucking destiny. You can’t hear him over the blood rushing through your ears, but he looks so pretty with his nose scrunched up, a streak of black paint running over the bridge and his eyes shut tight. A few more thrusts and he collapses against your chest with stuttering hips, pinning you so hard against the wall that it drives the air out of you.

There is only breathing, hot air from his lungs against your tickling skin. You cup the back of his head and stroke his hair; he nuzzles deeper into your skin and makes a noise that sounds like fucking home.

“I need to put you down now… sorry.”

He puts you down but doesn’t let go. Kisses cover your face until you cup his cheeks and claim his mouth while he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Then you giggle together, Eddie squeezing your ass with both hands, smiling at you so silly and soft. You’re thirsty, you let him have the bottle first and he gulps the water down, spilling down his chest, creating little rivers of paint that let the ink show through. You want to study those lines up close without twenty people around you, without the blinding fire of lust, but calm, taking your time asking questions.

“What’s going on up there?” he asks, tapping a finger against your forehead.

“I wanna study you some more,” you say, taking the bottle and down what’s left.

He doesn’t ask you what you mean, only tilts his head and smiles. Then he sits down in that worn-out armchair your mate had dragged in a few months ago, still naked, it isn’t time to cover up yet and you find a clean enough rag, climb into his lap and clean the paint off his face as gently as you can.

“Stop,” he grabs your hips, “do you have a camera or something?”

You do and the timer takes too long for you two not to start fooling around before the soft click of the shutter sounds. One more and one more and the film has only two more left and he pulls you in to kiss you just before the camera rewinds.

“You want to join me when I make the prints?”

“You, red light and chemicals?” he grins. “It’s a date.”

The painting is dry already; Guache dries rather fast, you explain to him. It’s itchy, he adds and scratches his chest, small flakes of black falling down to the floor. You sit in front of both your work, your head against his shoulder and your fingers fumbling with a strand of his hair that is stiff with paint.

“You know,” he says, “it would have made a damn good record cover before…”

“You can have a picture… I document every night before I go home.”

“Really? I mean, the picture?”

You brush sweaty hair off his forehead, “I’m sure it’s in good hands with you.”

He almost shoves you over when he kisses you, the giddy streak you saw earlier during class showing when he chuckles and licks your cheek like a puppy.

“It looks really good now though, don’t you think?”

“You’re just horny,” you laugh.

“What? You don’t like our work?” he pouts and this shouldn’t pull at your heart that much.

“I do,” you kiss the pout, “I was just teasing.”

“I mean it,” he looks at the canvas, “It’s a bit crooked and dented now, but that just adds to the charm.”

“It has nothing on you though when it comes to charm.” You lean in with a sultry smile and his palm cups your breast and then—

A knock on the door. “Come on, you still fucking in there? I need to work.”

You look at each other with large eyes and break out laughing, scrambling for your clothes. Eddie hisses sharply when you slap his ass just before he pulls up his jeans and you forgo the bra because one strap did not survive Eddie’s enthusiasm. There is paint sticking out of his collar that you couldn’t clean before your photo shoot and you remember to put the film in your pocket while he kisses your temple because he seems to can’t help himself but stay close to you.

“Ready?” you ask and he grabs your hand and nods, following you out.

“Finally,” your mate says, but smiles when she sees you. “Aren’t you that new model?”

“Muse,” he grins without further explanation.

You hand her the key, mouth a small sorry and admit it when she calls you out on your lie.

His hand is warm in yours, his thumb playing with your knuckles as you walk back through the hallway.

“So,” he says, “we gonna shower at your or my place?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

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