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msgexymunson · 5 months

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Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.”

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”

Is he flirting with me?

“I-I was at work this morning.”

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

“I was, well…”

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.”

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”

“Surgery? Oh God.”

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?”

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.

“And what should we do with suckers next time?”

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.

“I should… suck?”

“Yeah you should.”

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.

“It's not the surgery, its-”

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”

You blush, thinking about the other day.

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”

“Shut up!”

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…”

********************

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.

“She's awake! You OK?”

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?”

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”

“Eddie!”

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”

Alex pipes up.

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

********************

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”

“Huh?”

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.”

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”

I'll say.

“I can- I can see that.”

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”

Hell no.

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

********************

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.”

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.”

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.

“You're not my patient anymore?”

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”

“You're not my patient anymore.”

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.

“You wanna come upstairs?”

“Hell yes.”

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?”

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”

You huff dramatically, folding your arms.

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.

“I don't see a lady here.”

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.

“I see a very good girl.”

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.

“Milady.”

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”

“Just, put it on the floor.”

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”

“You have a very good point.”

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.

“Eddie.”

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.

“Hmm?”

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”

“No.”

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.

“Check what?”

“How wet my words made you.”

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.

“Y-yes.”

“Atta girl.”

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.

“No,” you whisper.

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.

“Stay right there, I'll be back.”

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?”

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.

“I was going to return the favour.”

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.

“What can I say, I'm a giver.”

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.

“Yes.”

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.

“Eddie, holy- fuck.”

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.

“God you really do like my words don't you?”

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.

“How many times?”

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.

“How many times do you want to come?”

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.

“What's the most you've managed?”

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.”

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.

“That a no, sweetheart?”

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“You OK sweetheart?”

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.

“Hang on a sec.”

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.

“You're not leaving, are you?”

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”

He pouts, looking much younger than he is.

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.

“Really?”

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“C'mere.”

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”

“I know.”

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”

“Thief.”

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.

“So you gonna stay?”

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.

“Good.”

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it.

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost.

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out.

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard.

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it.

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text.

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet.

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you.

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings.

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?”

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin.

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.”

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile.

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.”

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?”

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding.

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?”

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall.

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.”

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles.

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

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greenorangevioletgrass · 5 months

Text

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour.

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!”

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone.

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen.

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?”

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment.

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

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ph4ngz · 1 year

Text

BACKSEAT LOVE || mechanic!bkg x anxious!reader

PART 1

A/N : ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED YOU GUYS *HAPPY DANCE* :D

It's been two days since your last encounter with that gorgeous mechanic.

You'd be lying if you said he hadn't been the subject of your dreams, daydreams, wet dreams… all you can think about is him. Him and that perfect face, you still remember every splatter of grease and oil laid out on his features, you think you may have burnt the image into your brain.

His card is right there in the pocket of your denim shorts, just begging you to pull it out and stare at it for the nth time this Sunday morning. Your legs kick up and down on the bed as you lay on your tummy, doing nothing to help your friends pack up and get ready to leave the motel. Glancing back up at them, your eyes only seem to lose focus and any thoughts of packing your bags are, surprise, replaced by a certain blonde.

You wanted to call him, you really did. Would it be odd to show up at his garage again after two days without contact? It's possible you've missed your chance with him now that you've basically been ignoring the guy. You could pretend something is wrong with your car as an excuse to apologise! Nah, because then he'd check it out...

"Whatcha thinkin' about babe?" A mischievous, high pitched voice and a bounce of your mattress breaks you out of your inner struggle.

"I wanna see him…" you admit, realising too late that you hadn’t told your friends about Katsuki.

"See who?" Another voice, much more softer than Mina's, pipes up. Not many things can grasp Jiro's attention, but regarding you and boys…

Oh god, here we go. You and your stupid brain. There's no escaping this nonsense now. You can already hear the giggling and terrible impressions and they haven't even started yet.

But really, should you tell them about him? There'd be nothing wrong with that! However, something is telling you to keep him all to yourself. Jealousy? Panic? Perhaps he's so perfect that you're wary of other better girls stealing him away from you?

"Oh, just this guyyy, y'know… just this guy who gave her his number? And he’s a mechanic by the looks of things." Mina reads off the card he had given you that day, you having been completely unaware that she'd swiped it from your pockets until now.

"Hey!" You squirm under her weight, an elbow leaning on you as if you were an armchair as she carries on.

"Is he hot? What does he look like?" Jiro grins and leaps onto the mattress beside Mina, and before too long Uraraka is straddling your lower back, keeping you pinned down.

"Is he like one of those guys in the movies? Like, all sweaty and dirty and dreamy with a nice smile…" Uraraka's eyes trail upward to the spinning ceiling fan as she describes your mechanic with deadly accuracy.

Your eyes widen involuntarily.

"AH! Ochaco's right! You've gotta go see him again! Did he ask you out? Have you called him?" Mina squeals beside you, but then her face falls into a state of great suspense.

You know what's coming now. Sigh.

"Don't tell me you pulled one of your specials…" she guesses ominously, referring to your notorious moments of Boy Anxiety™.

Jiro smiles menacingly from behind her, "D-D-Did you?"

You find a smidge of respect for Uraraka for not joining in although you know she wants to. Rolling your eyes, you respond with a muffled "almost" after throwing your head into the covers out of embarrassment.

The hyperactive trio share a quick, knowing glance and simultaneously drown out the click-clacking of the old fan airing the motel room with a loud "AAHHH", Uraraka shaking your shoulders and Mina slapping the bed sheets.

"Where did you even find that anyways?" Jiro asks softly amidst the noise.

"It was hiding in one of her ass pockets." The pink haired thief replies proudly, jokingly smacking your asscheek and making it jiggle as your face heats up, still concealed by the covers.

The girls gossip about you as if you're not even there, and you decide you're perfectly fine with that if it means nobody is nagging you, so you let them talk. A few minutes pass by without a single word leaving your mouth until a finger messily taps on your bare shoulder.

Craning your head around to rest atop of your crossed arms, you shamefully eye the cutie straddling your back, internally smiling at the way her fringe is tied back on top of her head.

"Mm?" you hum groggily, awaiting her next words.

"I can always ask 'Zuku to give us all a ride home...?"

Your grumpy pout swiftly fades into a light and appreciative curl of your lips at her suggestion...

"...We aren't the only ones goin' for a ride today-"

...But soon enough the grumpy pout returns.

Excited cackling, thumping of dancing feet upon the floor and a group rendition of "tryna' catch me ridin' dirty" that is least to be desired fill the small room.

"UGHHughhhUGhhhhh," You exhale a tired groan into the back of your forearm, a wavering one at that, courtesy of Uraraka twirling an imaginary lasso in her hand and rocking back and forth on you like she's at a rodeo.

Eventually, an amused grin makes its way onto your face, with their antics (Mina's horrific excuse for dancing) too hilarious to even attempt keeping a straight face.

|| || || ||

"Oh, so you know Kacchan?" Izuku Midoriya's question almost has you jump as you open the car door to your driver's seat, curse him from coming up behind you like that.

"Who?" you furrow your brows innocently, your back pocket feeling particularly empty for some odd reason. You subtly glance behind the mess of green hair partially blocking your view at the three of your friends singing along to the radio in the backseat of his car.

"Whoops, sorry! I meant Katsuki." The thick fingers suddenly shoved in your confused face hold and point at a certain card you'd only just pried from someones grabby hands. God, this guy too!? Is everybody here a damn pickpocket?

Hastily snatching the card from Izuku's hand, you stutter an unnerved answer, "U-Uh! Yeah! No! I mean, we only met the other day, that's all..."

No way this bastard is going back in my pocket, you think.

"No need to freak out, promise I'm not being nosy or anything. I was just wondering, seeing as me and him are... I guess you could say childhood friends! He's actually doing some work on my Jeep, hence the basic rent-out. I knowww, I don't look like a Ford guy." He drawls on cheerfully, ignoring how you stuff the card inside your bra. You smirk at his choice to disregard your actions, and force down the invasive questions you so badly want to ask concerning your beloved mechanic.

"You better go before the girls set up a makeshift concert venue in the trunk." Beaming, you gesture to his bouncing vehicle.

"Shit, you're right. Ah, it was nice seeing you again!" Izuku waves whilst stumbling backwards, making you stifle a giggle whilst lowering into your own car.

|| || || ||

Pesky butterflies erupt within your chest when you finally pull over, the garage you so thankfully came across on your way to the motel stood conspicuously along the deserted highway. The garage door is shut this time around, the worn metal glinting under the aureate setting sun. However, the smaller door located at the side of the run-down building displays a twisted 'open' sign hanging behind the chalky window.

You've done it before, you can do it again. That's what you repeat to yourself inside your head as you hesitantly exit your car and approach the door. After a two minute standoff between your nervousness and the handle, you decide "fuck it!" and let yourself inside. You peer out from behind a brick wall separating the entrance from the main garage and it's nice, just like last time. Slow guitar and heavy bass emitting from what sounds like a vintage cassette boombox, the strong scent of gasoline and copper, fake potted plants hung up in every empty wall space unoccupied by shelves and posters, a huge dusty jeep... you can't see him though.

He's still here, you can hear a few faint grunts and the clanking of metal from beyond your place leant against the doorframe. You wonder, is he fixing some other girl's car? What if he isn't groaning for the reasons you think? The garage door is closed. Is somebody here with him? You're probably stupid for coming here after two days with no contact, he's most likely fallen for someone else thinking you would never come back. Subconscious curiosity leads you into the main room, fretful thoughts diminishing with no wall allowing your train of thought to stray from its tracks.

"Katsuki?-"

Your meek call of his name dies out on your tongue when the man himself emerges from behind the raised hood of the jeep with a "hm?". He's still as breathtaking as you remember, you reminisce about your last encounter whilst he's approaching you, his heavy booted feet seeming to send vibrations to your racing heart.

Your knees weaken when you realise the mechanic threw off putting a shirt on this time, specks of splattered oil glistening on his hard abs underneath the warm sunset rays filtering through the blinds. Forcing yourself to pay attention to his face instead of rudely ogling at his body, you come to find that he's secured his scruffy hair back with a clip, just like Uraraka, allowing you to view all of his features. He's been observing you for about a minute now, silently enjoying the way you're studying him as if he were a stone sculpture. Just give him a second, he'll say something eventually.

"Voice disappear or somethin'?" He asks cheekily, the sudden movement of a smirk emerging on his face breaking you out of whatever pesky trance you fell into.

"Oh! Uh, no! No, it's here! I can speak… yeah…" You spew a panicked sentence that would've been incoherent if you'd forced it out any harder. The anxious smile you’re wearing slowly fades as you start to chew on the inside of your cheek, nostrils flaring at how self aware you've become. Gosh, you're so stupid. Why can't you just speak like a normal person!? Stuttering and stumbling all over your words like this must look really sad. You hurl a mental slap at your face, scolding yourself for being so pathetic. Bakugo chuckles through his nose at your timid state and lightly scratches his bare stomach, deciding his next move. A big hand impulsively moves to your bare upper arm, mindlessly stroking your soft skin with his thumb for a short moment.

"Chill, it's just me. Stop acting like 'm gonna turn around and kill you." The man says casually with his usually downturned brows raised in amusement, removing his arm from you to take a few steps back and continue his work behind the jeep's hood. It's just him? JUST HIM? Being killed doesn't seem to be at the top of your list of worries right now, but the possibility increases as you're starting to picture your heart failing on the spot purely because of his existence. How are you supposed to "chill" when the sight of his broad, shiny, tanned, firm chest is enough to coax your eyes to roll back?!

You're thinking so damn hard about what to say as he's working, but nothing is good enough. Maybe you should leave and apologise, save your last ounce of self confidence. Maybe you should tell him the truth about your little anxiety issue. Nah, he wouldn't get it. Would he? Before you can stop yourself, a few words come tumbling out of your mouth to form the most unexpected question that leaves yourself dumbfounded.

"C-Can I kiss you?"

You stop breathing once Bakugo peers at you from behind the metal, mildly surprised and overwhelmed by your sudden request. That was fuckin' quick, he muses. Amidst a moment of fleeting courage, you will yourself to continue even if it's dizzying due to your heart beating a million miles per second.

"I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. Or at least— text you! I got so nervous and my friends all make fun of me whenever I talk to a guy so—"

"C'mere." The blonde gestures with his free hand while the other supports his leaning weight by pressing his palm upon the edge of the hood, spanner held tightly between his fingers. Now or never, you chant to occupy your brain. Head hanging low, you do as he says and come to a halt when only a few inches are left between your bare arm and his. Without another word to spare, Bakugo takes hold of your waist and veers your body to the tight space in front of him, caging you in. You fit underneath the metal canopy, the jeep's ginormous wheels providing some serious height. You're still staring intently at the dirty concrete area uncovered by either of your feet, unknowing of how to react.

The boombox in the corner of the room provides the only sound other than your ragged breathing, the music doing its best job to calm your nerves. You want this. You want this so bad, so don't fuck it up. Just move your damn head, that's it! Tears eventually cloud your vision, but before they can drip to the ground your chin is nudged upwards, letting the salty droplets slide down your heated cheeks. You're forced to look him in the eye whilst his heavy touch travels to the top of your muddled head, narrowed crimson gaze boring into your own, guilty and utterly captivated.

When he gently pulls you in by the nape of your neck, and his surprisingly soft lips make contact with yours... it's like all energy is drained from your body. As you kiss, you find your weakening form melting into his broad and hard chest, gradually tipping closer and closer until your bodies are pressed against one another's. Any thoughts previously occupying your mind have vanished without a trace, brain completely blank and depending entirely on the feeling of instinct. You're both sighing contently through your noses, each noise emitted from one has the other deepen the slanting of their mouth until a tinge of ferocity is thrown into the mix.

Your knees buckle abruptly at one point and breaks the kiss in a way that's too depriving of elation to bear, although Bakugo doesn't appear to care that much as he urgently hoists you up by your thighs to recklessly brush all the nuts and bolts strewn across his desk and replace them with your ass instead. A smile appears on the man's face when he catches your shoulders jerk at the reverberating clangour of metal hitting the floor. He situates himself further between your legs after making sure to shield the back of your head from the wall, worried that he'll hurt you with his ungentlemanly tendencies. His heavy breathing is causing your brows to bow in a state of pure bliss, the occasional grunt he sounds causing your jaw to go slack.

The amorous mechanic takes advantage of this and hungrily slips his tongue past your plumped lips to slither in tandem with yours for a while, evoking a muffled and greatly pleasured sob to escape into his mouth more than once, all of which he gladly engraves deep within his memory before yanking you forward by the waist once again, this time positioning your lower half close-packed and pressed to his hips. Bakugo is panting once he separates his face from yours, directing an avid ruby-red glance your way before lowering his head beside your neck.

The summer air is so hot, laced with the scent of diesel and unrivalled desire. Everything is surreal. The moody, crackly guitar in the background, the setting sun decorating the paint-splattered walls with strips of gold, the mess of blonde untamed locks you're tugging on brushing along the line of your jaw. His eagerness is evident with how rushed and sloppily his tongue glides across your skin, teeth providing harsh nibbles just under your ear and his lips hurriedly ghosting over any areas left untouched so he can suck on them hard enough to leave an instant bruise.

He's got his hands beneath your loose tank top, thick and skilled fingers splayed out and exploring every inch of your arching back. The hefty, warm touch backtracks to run over the goosebumps that had formed in its wake, sending intense shivers all throughout your limp form that have the muscles in his arms vibrate with your shaky movements. Venturing lower, Bakugo drags his palms all the way to your hips, almost drooling at how your soft flesh juts out the slightest bit above the hem of your denim shorts. He's acting hastily, like he's been set a deadline, moving to skim his thumbs over your ribs to the ticklish area below the cups of your bra.

Both of your bodies are rolling into each other now, sweat glazing the skin left uncovered by your clothes. The dim lamp and other miscellaneous items rocking back and forth on the desk struggle to stay upright or in place when every brusque, heedless motion of the mechanic's hips comes paired with the sheer power of desperation. Before you know it, he's fervently sucking on your tongue once more with a steel grip cupping the back of your bent knees, blunt nails digging in and making you uncontrollably exhale breathy whimpers that have his ears almost twitching to hear more.

Mixed saliva is coating your lips, an outcome of paying less attention to the kiss when your abdomen started to clench with anticipation. Confidence still a bit on the wobbly side, you take his bottom lip in your teeth and lightly tug on it as you pull away for breath, earning a pleased, sexy open-mouthed groan from Bakugo. Neither of you have opened your eyes in a while, much too focused on experiencing every overwhelmingly delectable feeling as they come. Jaws too tired to close your mouths, the taller man decides to give a harder thrust of his lower half and revels in the little gasps you reward him with, the growing bulge filling the space between your plush thighs gyrating into your pulsing core just right.

Long fingers abruptly spread out over your bra, opting for a quick squeeze before eagerly unhooking the clasp and greedily taking a handful of your bare tits from underneath the loosened cups. It seems he can't be bothered to seductively throw it to the ground like in the movie scenes Uraraka forced you to watch on YouTube earlier. And yet I prefer that, you smile to yourself and let out an erotic moan when your excited mechanic's huge palms rub your nipples. The sudden stimulation coaxes your inner walls to aimlessly contract, as if they're yearning to clench around the hardening, clothed length relentlessly grinding on you. His teeth return to the marked surface of your neck.

The steady speed and strength Bakugo infuses his thrusts with is impressive and you would probably be wondering how he hasn't wasted all of his energy if his hard-on wasn't consistently nudging the thick material of your shorts into your clit, the pressure so perfect it's dangerously close to maddening. The swollen bud throbs urgently at the sensation, a warning which you take notice of a mere second too late. The loud, repetitive knocking of wood swiftly being forced into solid bricks only serves to pull on the knot within your abdomen until only a single fraying thread remains intact. Not for long though, all it takes is simply a short and gruff "fuck" from the focused mans chest to snap it.

"Nnnguh!" your muscles tense instantly as you abruptly cry out, barely managing to yank him in further with the heels of your sneakers pushing at his ass. Bakugo hurriedly opens his eyes, vision blurred a bit when he moves to watch your features scrunch up under the control of absolute ecstasy. Although he's pleasantly surprised by your sudden release, his hips keep moving under the greedy pressure of your feet. Soon enough, your facial expression morphs into one of wide glossy eyes and quivering lips following the slow disappearance of your orgasm. He's smitten, without a doubt. Looking down at you like you're the one he's been looking for all his life, almost melancholic with the unmistakeable glint of rapture prominent in the pretty red rings of his gaze.

"Jesus, what brought that on?" he teases with raised, bushy brows. Ready for an embarrassed excuse, one that he'll remember forever. You’re out of breath already, one orgasm enough to render you far gone, too far gone to watch your words. You see the way he’s looking at you all expectantly, waiting for a reason to pick on you and make you burn up. If he wants an answer, he can have one.

"You, you did." your response has the mechanic blushing like a mad man, the three words prompting a sudden few drops of pre-cum to leak into the fabric of his underwear. Acting as nonchalantly as possible, Bakugo clears his throat and straightens his slumped posture with a try hard grin.

"That so." His voice is a smidge softer than before as he contemplates ripping off your clothes and going at you right then and there. The soggy feeling of his boxers rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock serves as a reminder. A reminder that he's not the type to hold back when he's inside. ...Alright, he'll wait for you, just let him wash away the oily mess painting his hands first. Hastily propping you up so that you don’t fall, he orders you a quick "sit" then rushes to the sink stationed opposite from you.

You scoff at your own impatience whilst you're unbuttoning the shorts hugging your waist, something that Bakugo catches on his way back to you. "Someone's excited," he murmurs like it's second nature and gestures to you with dripping hands. "Take em' off for me."

Choosing to let his attitude slide, you obey willingly. You hardly get to finish removing the denim before your mechanic is pouncing on you akin to a wildcat, bared fangs hovering just below your navel then hungrily clamping down on the lacy material of your panties. It's fucking delicious, the manner in which the man prises the lace waistband away to release it unexpectedly, letting it snap upon the hypersensitive skin with an addictive sting. A devilish smile plays on the man's lips, the adorable sounds you bless him with doing nothing to lessen the discomfort between his legs.

Taking your underwear in his teeth again, he repeats his last actions. However, the stretching fabric doesn’t make contact with your abdomen this time around, instead they're being dragged just below your knees. Ah, you see. Your restricting panties leave enough space for his head to fit between your thighs, but they don't allow you to spread them any further. Swollen clit pulsing, you grip the edge of the desk tighter with anticipation as Bakugo lifts your legs to situate himself underneath and rests them on his broad shoulders.

"Hngh, please please please~" you whine for him whilst twirling strands of his hair with antsy hands. A genuine laugh from the mechanic blows a few puffs of cool air directly over your pussy and the abrupt change in temperature has your body rolling closer in hopes that his mouth will bring more heat. His fingers are still wet with water as they refrain from touching the top of your thighs, the droplets cooling your skin when they land.

"Gah—!" a pathetic, surprised gasp evoked from you makes the blonde's heart melt into a puddle. Did you think he was going to warn you with a sweet kitten lick? Who do you think he is? Of course he'd start with a harsh suck on your clit. Your grip loosens in Bakugo's locks when he opts to suck and flick his tongue simultaneously, the seemingly endless flow of pleasure sending your body into an exhausted state almost straight away. "K-Katsuki, Katsuki— mnnghWAit!"

Finally, his skilled mouth detaches from your overwhelmed bud with a muted pop and you can take a deep breath. So it looks like having your legs forced to remain in a relaxed position heightens the effects. You're mind-blown, nobody's ever done something so confidently, so assertively to you before. If he had continued whatever that was then you might've…

"Too much f'you? Shorry shweetheart," the muscular fiend muffling apologies beneath you is still gliding his tongue over your saturated entrance, swallowing greedily and peering into your fucking soul with those ruby eyes. "Mnnbut you shoulda known, m'nothing like anything you've ever had before…"

Without a second's notice, Bakugo easily slides his dripping middle finger inside of you, a hot and amused laugh vibrating through you due to his face still being pressed into your throbbing cunt. "Sho eashily…" you hear him comment. You're squirming with every movement he makes, the digit creating pressure within your contracting walls coaxing animalistic moans from your chest that even you don't recognise. It's when his eager tongue begins to lap relentlessly at your clit too that your focus wavers, poor brain trying to acknowledge everything at once. Eventually, the euphoria has you doubled over with your mind seeing nothing but crimson stars studying you from between a pair of weak legs.

"Good girl, yeah yeah yeah," the blonde praises whilst savouring the view above, his jolting cock demanding for him to push three fingers inside just to hurry things up. "So f’ckin tasty and wet for me, think you can take three fingers?" he asks lowly, almost states it. You nod rapidly, barely in the know of what you're agreeing to but you get the gist. It's slightly embarrassing how his thick fingers slide in without an issue, though it doesn't look as if Bakugo has anything to say. Instead, he's elated. If only you could see how rock hard he is right now in this moment, how much of an effect you have on his body. If his dick could get any bigger it would tear a damn hole in his clothes!

"Like you were goddamn made for it." he confirms to himself and nuzzles his face further.

Twisting, turning, tapping, your horny mechanic bullies your narrowing inner walls with his heavy touch. You're holding your breath again, you can't even help it with how insanely good he's making you feel and he's not even inside you yet. The mere thought of his cock draws a long, somewhat frustrated groan from your throat, voice cracking softly when his plumped lips close over your heated pussy to suck on your overstimulated clit once more. On cue, your mouth opens in a silent scream before the words can come out prepared.

"Katsuki! Too, huh, good! I-I think—" you try to warn him as best as you can in such a state but Bakugo proceeds to dart his tongue, coated heavily with your sweet arousal, back and forth over the sore bud until you're clenching on his fingers so much that he can't move them. "Hhhhhoh my god! Again-n! M'cumming!"

And with that, the man between your thighs swiftly withdrawals to stick his tongue out and carelessly skim the convulsing bundle of nerves by shaking his head. Somehow the mechanic expected the clear liquid to come spraying from your sopping cunt, he'd just prepared himself and you saw it. Your body is tensing in ways you've never experienced in your entire life as your juices hit the concrete with an obscene splat. The fact that you're squirting everywhere is shocking enough, but the fact that the man who's face you're currently cumming on already knew exactly how to make it happen...

Your walls are vicelike around nothing as Bakugo savours the flavour present on the tip of his tongue, the fading end of your release enhancing the emptines within. Did he do that on purpose too? To keep you wanting more? Your widened eyes immediately search to be met with his own narrowed and lust-tainted leer, and then you realise something. This guy really does know what he's doing, so much so that you're almost scared by how good you feel. His head certainly would've been crushed if you hadn't tried to keep your legs open. After retreating from his spot in front of you, the mechanic mutters a "let's get these fuckin' things outta my way" breathlessly and proceeds to rid of your cute panties. Your cunt drools arousal as he dangles them in your face, giving his wrist a little twirl before pretending to throw them to the ground. Little do you know, they're actually stuffed nice and cozy in his pocket. How sneaky.

"Need you…" whispering sweetly once he's stood before you again, you reach over slightly to cup his clothed and ever-hardening length. The low-key gasp that's sucked past the burly man’s lips is then exhaled as a deep "ah", the forceful back and forth motion of your palm causing him to feel as if his spirit is about to ascend to fucking cloud nine and beyond.

"Need me, hah?" he asks rhetorically. You don't stop as he's soon hurrying to unbuckle the belt looped around his waist, in fact his visible determination has your blood sparking with newfound energy. A kind of energy that influences the muscles in your legs to feel unused, begging you to ride him until they give out. Bakugo is moments away from letting his leaky cock breathe, finally able to free himself from the painfully claustrophobic material that is his underwear after removing the first layer—

"Wait, wait, in the car... can we? In the back sea-"

The sound of a car door opening hardly registers and you're being thrown playfully into the velvety backseat of a spacious jeep before you can even finish your question. Luckily, you're given a mere few seconds to reposition yourself until the unruly blonde sits beside you, bare legs spread to make room for one hand lazily grabbing and shaking the base of his hard-on beneath damp fabric. Observing his current state, your half lidded eyes are drawn to his shiny pink tip poking out from under the soaked cotton briefs you so badly wish to yank down. It's swollen, trying to jolt whilst being pressed into his abdomen and causing even more cloudy, sticky pre to droop in a string of small beads. The desperate mechanic is also watching with bowed brows, eventually turning his head to you as if to silently plead, simultaneously lifting his ass up to fidget halfway out of his underwear.

Holy shit, he's big. You knew he was big, but… he's big. And veiny. His huge fingers wrap around his bare member for a second time, influencing him to throw his head back and toy with himself. You’re stunned for a good moment, zero thoughts as you play witness to Bakugo’s solo pleasure. You hadn't seen his features contort in such a manner before, as his face had been hidden from your eyes whenever they were open. He's got this look about him right now, like he's totally losing himself in rapture for you. Mesmerising, truly. Those rock solid abs rise and fall at quite a fast pace, you shouldn't keep him waiting but… This guy is fucking delicious, you could just lick him right now. You bet even the sweat coating his face in a pretty shine tastes like salted caramel. You want a taste. Without hesitation, you straddle the man's lap, a firm grip stationed on his shoulders with his cock bobbing involuntarily into your puffy clit. Daringly, you grab him by the chin to lick a clean, wet stripe along his pink cheek.

Such a salacious action offers no small reward, you realise this when a clenched fist in your hair pulls you back just enough to have your noses bumping into one another, a dangerous growl fleeing from behind gritted teeth, straight from the tasty mechanic's dick rather than his brain. You're rather puzzled as he slowly ghosts his mouth over your own, until he speaks.

"M'I okay to rough you up a little? Hm?" Voice gravelly and deeply smooth enough to have your head spinning, he asks impatiently and narrow-eyed. You're most likely getting yourself into some kind of trouble judging by the sheer size of him, but how can you say no to something so utterly passion stoked? Answering with a simple nod and another teasing lick over those talented, wetted lips of his, you lower your already bucking hips. It burns, it fucking burns. Yet it's intoxicating. How odd for such a searing pain to have you wishing time would stop. Whimpering and grimacing, you've just about managed to fit half of his length past your soaking entrance.

"Want me t' rough my pretty baby up in the backseat?" He's asking you rhetorically, almost tauntingly, though somehow there's more than a hint of soothing behind his words. "Take it easy, baby. That's it…" he's being so gentle with his tone, breathing shaky as he memorises every damn detail of the view in front of him.

Fuck, it's stretching you out so much! The slippery, warm tip is squished between your succulent inner walls, gradually nudging them further apart to accommodate more with the shallow rise and dip of your body. "Hngh... fuck— nngh!" your pained grunts and contracting around him both have Bakugo digging his front teeth into his tender lower lip, ruby gaze tracking a lone drop of sweat trickling down your temple. Hyper-aware of your existence, of the velvety soft ridges massaging his length, a subtle smile enhances the shamefully mushy blonde's features and a thumb swipes the rolling droplet from your face.

With every inch nearly a struggle to slide past your tender, wet entrance, the longer and less frequent your trepidatious gasps for air grow. It's the pure fervour dancing in the depths of your abdomen to blame for your lack of air intake, for this overwhelming lightheadedness that makes you feel as if you might just pass out on your mechanic's fat dick. Then it becomes apparent, you've been so focused on easing the pain that the rapturous inferno spreading within yourself has been stealing your breath away. A flustered giggle is pulled from you when Bakugo cracks a stupid joke regarding your breathing pattern.

"Damn, I knew- ah, shit..." he shudders when the sensitive head of his cock reaches deeper parts of you, canines chattering together with a moan before carrying on. "I knew I was hot, but fucking breathe, heheh..."

However, your embarrassed grin flickers in the presence of intense enjoyment as you sense your frame succumbing to the man's increasing touch located at your sides. Rough hands are guiding your hips from their ongoing gentle bob to a faster, shorter and heavier bounce. This new movement finally drives the remaining inches of the mechanic's length inside of you, the harsh impact producing a pornographic splurt to sound as your arousal caves into the building pressure and escapes from your throbbing, stretching entrance.

"GAH—!"

"Oh-hohoooooh, baby..."

He doesn't stop there, either. The back of your thighs smack upon the top of his own, the lewd noises increasing in volume every time Bakugo lifts himself up to brutally slam you back down simultaneously. Strings of your slick connect to his sticky skin, linking the both of you together like some filthy double meaning in a movie. Your insides experience a sinfully pleasing ache with the continuous and vigorous moving, the way he's ramming in and out so fucking fast and rough and perfectly— God, there's absolutely no way that you can delay another orgasm like this, no chance in hell. How are you even supposed to function right now when his cock is so amazingly able to stimulate your over-sensitive clit from the inside?

"Ka-a-at'ski-i~" your near sing-song-ish moan of his name is prolonged by the drag and drop of your weight. It's the whiniest shit he's ever heard, the wavering of your wobbly voice positively addictive to the unruly mechanic.

"I can't stop, can't stop it!" a hurried, raspy whisper into his pink-tinged ear indicates the unstoppable approach of another brain-melting orgasm on your end, and Bakugo really can't help himself from pistoning his long dick as deep as your spasming cunt will allow before the involuntary push of the juicy walls clamping over him can render you empty again. This is the hardest one yet, this time causing your form to lock up as soon as your palms caress the prickly stubble on the blonde's jaw. He's fucking delighted, peeking up at your distressed features from beneath your weak hold. It's so adorable, how you can barely handle the pleasure he's gladly supplying you with, slutty little body already so drunk on sex.

"Ugh-huh! Plea—easeeee," you cry out and impulsively bring the mechanic's head forward to bury your sobs and babbles into his natural, soft spikes. "Mmnn- please, so good..."

He notices that you're not fidgeting anymore. Instead, you've been ultimately paralysed by ecstasy. Your back arched and your trembling thighs raised, needy body in prime position to just fucking take it. You're doing exactly that, perky tits jolting into his chin whilst you let him pound your sweet pussy however he wants. Narrow eyes rolling back, a husky moan breaks the hold of his lips. There's no need to see your face to know how far gone you are, but just in case, Bakugo checks in with a dirty laugh and an utterly sexual "don't even know whatcha' beggin' for, do ya?"

Hardly capable of a simple yes or no, you can only respond with a long, broken hum into his tear-dampened hair. Fuuuuck, the car is rocking with the man's thrusts and it has the act of jutting his hips upward becoming so much easier. After a short moment of sucking on one of your pebbled nipples to have you squeezing his length, he decides a slight change needs to be made before he can cum. Without warning, Bakugo hastily manhandles you so that you're facing away from him with your lolling head leaning upon the headrest in front of you, arms around the seat and gripping on for dear life.

The musky, intimate scent of sex has an incredibly intoxicating effect, neither of you able to get enough of the lusty, hot air filling the vehicle. It influences the mechanic to ram his cock in you once again, but this time he doesn't pull back, choosing to drag you into his broad, glistening chest and guide your tired hips to gyrate in his lap. You're absolutely fucking destroyed down there, he notes pridefully when he lets his fingers slip back and forth over your numbing clit. At this point, you can only feel the pleasure his fingers are bringing you, rather than his actual digits themselves. Your mind is completely de-railed, train of thought tipped over onto its damn side. This guy is literally going to fuck your brains out!

"Keep goin', gorgeous. M' almost there," Bakugo groans whilst one of his hands trails to your throat. He can feel his dick stirring within your tight cunt, he can feel your entrance squeezing the base as your walls attempt to milk him for all he's worth. To be honest, hes lost count of your orgasms. You have, that's for sure. In fact, he doesn't think you could count to 3 right now, even if you tried your hardest. Let's make that 2, he muses to himself just as your clit starts to pulse beneath his dangerously intense touch.

"Ka... Kat'ski..." you mumble through the pressure situated under your jawbone, unable to keep your head from falling back into the crook of his neck with a silent scream. The contracting of your mellow insides circling his blunt tip has the tense mechanic blurting:

"Cum for me, baby. C-cum f'me, m'gonna cum for you too, n'kay?"

Another splash of clear liquid is sprayed from between your legs as soon as Bakugo's words register, his endless rocking and thick fingers creating gaps in stream which only makes everything that much messier. You're still in the end throes of your release when the man behind you loses control of the curses previously sat at the tip of his tongue, all of them falling from his quivering mouth within a matter of seconds.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— cuh—! Cumming!" he strains into your tangled hair, the hold around your throat gradually tightening with each forceful spurt of white from his jumping cock. Hips bucking lightly during the fading continuation of his orgasm, the brawny man removes his hand from your neck, allowing you to inhale a deep breath.

Then.

Reality kicks in.

Full throttle.

"Oh my fucking god. We need to fuckin' get out."

Slowly coming to your senses, you angle your tired head to peer at your mechanic who seems to be troubled.

"Why's that?" you question and kiss his flushed cheek, face plastered with cute curiosity. However, that cute curiosity is quickly replaced with utmost panic when Bakugo doesn't reply, instead observing the mess surrounding the two of you. "Shit! This is..."

Izuku's fucking jeep.

|| || || ||

Hours pass, all spent scrubbing the entirety of the jeep's backseat area. You'd prefer not to remember the chosen method of exiting the vehicle whilst being impaled and full of cum, although it was pretty hilarious at the time. Oh, right now? Right now you're on a stealth mission, currently waiting for Bakugo to signal your leave with obvious hand gestures whilst Izuku asks about his car. Hm... you feel like you're forgetting something— Woah, shit! He's signalling, okay. Refraining from letting a giggle escape at the blonde's tight-lipped and wide eyed expression, you sneak out from behind his childhood friend and quietly leave the building.

"So it's all good now?" Izuku pats the hood of his jeep, emerald eyes eager for his answer.

"Mm, yup. Stay there a sec while I go get your keys, loser."

You're on your way to your own car, still wondering if maybe you'd left something back there when Bakugo appears from behind the door in the corner of your vision. Spinning on your heels, you tilt your head at the cocky smirk he's blessing you with. You're confused, until you clock him dangling your lacy panties on one finger.

'Wh— HEY!' you mouth at him with a frown of disbelief. So that's what you were forgetting! You're about to storm right back over there, but the manner in which the blonde peers over his shoulder with an awkward face tells you that Izuku's waiting patiently. He doesn't mouth anything back to you, just opts to blow you a mischievous kiss, a kiss that he plants on the fabric of your panties, before cheekily shutting the door on you.

"Unbelievable." your hands flail around as you murmur with an amused smile. Guess you'll have to come back for those.

|| || || ||

Taglist :

@artdumpsstuff @endlessfreaky @passionateuchiha

#bakugou smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #mha smut #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #my hero acedamia

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carolmunson · 9 months

Text

must be a kind of blind love

(older!modern!eddie - interlude blurbie) orange colored sky setlist

a/n: wrote this little older!eddie blurbie in honor of me needing glasses. my birthday is tomorrow so consider this an early present from me. this doesn't have to fit in order of any time line, it's just cute and fluffy. however, there are some exciting revelations in here.

tw: references to smut, foul language, otherwise pretty tame. idiots in love.

"Yyyyell-o." "You gotta stop answering the phone like that, Ed."

"It's how I always answer the phone, baby -- it's like a muscle memory."

"Ooh, muscle memory, big word for you," you chuckle, you can hear him click clacking against his keyboard on the other end, "You busy?"

"Not too busy, you okay?" he asks, the click clacking slows down to a stop, you hear the roll of his desk chair and some shuffling, the sound of an iPhone being unplugged from his computer.

"So um, I just left the doctors..."

"Okay before you finish what you're saying, I need you to never start a phone call with 'I just left the doctors...' fours days after we had sex," he interrupts, "We clear on that?"

You laugh, it's hearty and bubbly, enough to calm him from the heart racing 'what ifs' running through his head, "Yes, we're clear -- but you knew I had this doctor's appointment!"

"I know, but still -- how'd it go? Everything good?"

"Well..." you start, "It was an eye doctor appointment, like, an optometrist."

"I know what an optomestrist is, baby girl," he says sweetly, "But thank you for clarifying."

"Anyway I went and got my eyes check and uh..." you trail off, not wanting to say it. You can hear the low giggle coming from his throat, practically see the smile in his next sentence.

"Aw, you need glasses, don't you, peach?" he smirks into his question, heading down the metal staircase into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup.

"Yeah," you say poutily, "And now my eyes hurt cause they did dialysis on my eyes I mean -- dialated my eyes, whoops."

"I would hope they didn't perform dialysis on your eyes, jesus," he still can't hold back his gruff giggle, "Is it bad? What's your perscription?"

"I think it's honestly just an astigmatism? But better safe than sorry," you explain, "Don't make fun of me."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna make fun of you," Eddie pops the mug into the microwave, "Now you know how I feel every time you tell me to put my glasses on. Not fun gettin' old, is it?"

"You make it look pretty fun," you shrug, walking over to the train. The printed out paper with your perscription on it is blinding outside, the white glaring into your dilated pupils, "Fuck that's bright."

"I'm almost done with work for today, you wanna just come to mine?" he asks, "We can go look for frames for you."

"You're gonna be mean," you complain, "I don't like when you're mean."

"I won't be mean, I promise."

"Do you want me to come over?" you ask.

He bites his tongue, wanting to reply with a snappy 'Would I have invited you if I didn't?' but he can tell you just need the reassurance.

"I'd love to see you," his voice warm honey while it drips into the receiver, "Of course I want you to come over. You getting on the train?"

"Yeah I'm like, maybe twenty minutes way," you smile.

"Well then I'll see you in twenty, okay?" "Okay."

He spends the first couple minutes teasing you when you get in to get it out of his system, peppering you with kisses when your fake pout gets too cute for him. Eddie gives you his glasses to try on but you squint.

"These are too blurry," you shake your head, scrunching your nose in a way that has him melting.

"Well that's cause my visions a little worse than yours," he shrugs, plucking them off your face by the bridge and popping them onto his own.

"I think your glasses are nice," you shrug, "They make you look handsome."

"Handsome, huh?" he quirks a brow, "I think they make me look like my uncle. He's like, 74."

"You don't look 74," you roll your eyes.

"No?"

"No, babe," you say sweetly, tilting your head when you look at him, "You look at least 72."

He clicks his tongue and puffs out a breath, "How did I know?"

"You love it," you smirk, kissing his cheek and then the tip of his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I love it," he nods along, tilting his head up to kiss your lips. He pulls you in close to him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island where you stand between his thighs.

Yeah, yeah, I love it. I love you. I think I love you.

"When your eyes feel a little less blurry you wanna look for some frames?" he asks, noses touching. You nod, feeling safe in his hold, eyes fluttering closed when he kisses your cheek. Eddie's full lips kiss from your cheek to your jaw, to the top of your neck -- implying all the ideas he has in mind to pass the time.

"We can fool around if you want," he asks against your skin, "That sound good to you, four eyes?"

You groan into a laugh, shoving him lightly off you, "Fuck you."

Laughing in the kitchen together is his new favorite past time.

Cat-eye, round, square, wire-rimmed, low brow -- there's too many options. You chew on your lower lip looking at the walls of frames, trying to not get in the way of other people while they grab pairs to try on in the brightly lit mirrors.

"Where do I even start?" you ask yourself, feeling Eddie close behind you. His hand presses against your mid back, leading you over to a wall that doesn't have people crowded around it. It gives you a moment to breathe, he rubs your shoulder as it relaxes.

"What types of sunglasses to you normally wear?" he asks, "That's a good place to start."

You had a few fake pairs of Raybans, a couple cat-eye frames from when you were in your early twenties. One pair of rimless glasses from a 90s party that you don't totally hate. You reach for the Wayferer shaped ones, wire rim bottom and flat top -- you find it accentuates your brows in a way that isn't quite right. They sit uneven on your face.

"These are awful," you mumble, taking them off.

"No they're not," he assures. He grabs a few pairs that are sort of ridiculous just to get you laughing -- big wild pairs with bright colors, a pair of transition lens aviators that look straight out of a serial killer movie, exaggerated cat eye lenses that he said his great aunt would've worn in the 80s. He heals every tease with a gentle kiss to your temple or forehead just over the bridge of your nose.

Eventually he starts looking at sunglasses for himself while you gain the confidence to go for it on your own. It's not lost on him when some of the ladies who work there come over to see if he needs help that they're flirting, and to be fair, he's never one to not indulge. You catch his eye in an opposite mirror where he gives you a wink -- he blushes when you roll your eyes in return.

You finally think you've settled on a pair you like, one that surprises you. Thin wire rimmed, brushed gold, they sit slightly round over your face, dipping a bit onto the tops of your cheeks. They don't accentuate whatever is happening with your brow line, they almost feel like they're supposed to be there. Your next thought sounds like your mom in your ear -- They go with everything!

You push your hair back, seeing if you'll still like them with your hair out of the way and down again. You snap a picture -- well, you snap a few. You don't hate it.

"Hey," you call out, tapping on his shoulder when you get behind him, "What do you think?"

Eddie turns, smoothly taking off the new sunglasses he was considering, "Lemme see."

"Oh honey," he coos, "Oh my god you look like a sweet little secretary."

"Stop," you laugh, heat hitting your cheeks at his praise. "Gotta get you a type writer so you can come work for me," he eggs on playfully, "You can screen all my calls. Maybe earn some over time..."

"Don't be annoying," you chide, slapping at his arm when he snakes it around you.

"No, peach you look so sweet," he gushes, "Really."

"I don't look like a nerd?" you ask, looking into the mirror again.

"Of course you do," he confirms, "But that's what I like about them. Plus, they go with everything."

"We'll be like twins," you say with a nudge, "Yours are sort of like this but silver."

"You're right," he nods, "Look at that, nerds in love."

He gives you a quick kiss -- but both of your hearts sink when the weight of what he says hits both your ears. Nerds in love.

In love.

You hear him swallow and you do the same. There's a jitter to both of you after, like both of you are pretending to not have heard that sentence. Like it didn't happen.

"So you like these ones?" he asks, voice cracking like a teenager. He clears his throat before flagging over one of the women who offered to help him before, "Can we uh, can we get these set up with her prescription?"

The woman's smile is dazzling, perfect for retail -- you'd buy anything she told you to buy. She takes the pair in your hand and goes to work, calling you both over to the iPads by the check out desk to get the order in. Your heart hammers while you make your way over.

"Ed, I don't even know how much those cost," you say under your breath.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles back, "You're not paying for 'em."

"Ed," you protest, "No." You shake your head, the serious look on your face makes his chest hot with embarrassment.

But he's quick, he's a loverboy for a reason, "Just think of it as insurance for all the jokes I get to make at your expense. I'm earning my right to bully you by buying them."

"You're so dumb," you huff, taking his hand while he reaches out to you to place your order.

"You love it."

"Yeah, yeah, I love it."

I love it, you think, I think I love you.

prev | next

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #older!eddie #older!eddiemunson

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lovelaetter · 1 month

Note

continue my previous ask, miss julie gotta be in mean girl line i can feel it. she is the regina georgia version of herself being a shady bitch to everyone, when in the closet she begging for cock in her mouth.

wait, hold on, holD ON-

the type that even ones who despise her agree she’s like, perfection. walks around with her three minions behind her, master at condescension, saying the meanest things in a soft, velvet-y tone and with a smile on her pretty red lips.

catches her boyfriend with someone else at a party and drags the first person that crosses her path, that happens to be you, to the nearest closet and of course at the moment she was a bit out of her mind because she would never ever think about having something with you— thinks of you as some kind of loser even if you’re just… a normal person— but she wasn’t expecting you to be that good and it plagues her head because how dare you in minutes make her feel so many things and after you make her cum she stares at you for some good seconds then pushes you away with a scoff and leaves you there like “….okay.”

sorts things out with her boyfriend and doesn’t look in your face since then— never really did— but the truth is that she is avoiding you because you haven’t left her head since and she simply doesn’t accept it?! she’s too stubborn. until one day you’re by your own somewhere and there’s the click-clack of heels and when you look up she’s furiously walking to you and once again dragging you somewhere, locking the door and pointing at your face, telling you that whatever is about to happen stays inside the room and between you two and doesn’t wait for you to answer, just drops her bag and attacks you with kisses, like, girl is desperate desperate. high chances that she doesn’t know your name, never cared, but eyes you while fixing her clothes and asks because she needs to know what she should call her new toy… but honestly, who is the real toy here because yeah, she ignores you and acts like she doesn’t know you but at the end of the day she’s the one meowing and sucking your fingers and looking at you with pleading eyes.

sigh, julie han cheats on her boyfriend with you every thursday on the projection room above the auditorium.

i like to think she catches feelings

#asks #kiss of life smut #julie smut #julie han smut #simi kiss of life era?

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starsomens · 2 months

Text

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7 • 𝓦𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓻𝔂 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷…

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

warnings: language, kitchen sex, oral sex (female receiving), apology sex,

"Y/N? Dear you've been in here for days, at least come out for Cheri's party!" Your mother stood at the end of your bed. You had been at your parents house for about 3 days already, and each day that passed you've only come out for a shower and maybe some water. You felt awful about not getting Cheri a gift so you made sure to order whatever she had in her shopping cart online as a gift.

"Mmmmmm" you groan into your pillow "can't I just rot here?"

"All because of a break up?" she clicks her tongue and rests her hands on her hips

"It wasn't just a break up!" you sit up "It was...was...ugh!......I just...don't want to see him or another man for the next 10 years" you flop on to your back staring at your dark ceiling.

"Well Cheri is asking for you, so get up," she yanks the covers off your body "Get dressed and come downstairs." she said as she opened the curtains to brighten your dark rooms. Your mother loved and cared for you but at times when you were low she became strict to give you a backbone. But she could have at least been gentle with the lighting.

You sit up in bed and walk over to your dresser as you stretch your arms above your head. Letting them fall to your sides with a deep sigh you stop at your dresser and stare at your reflection. Running your hands over your face and through your messy hair. You looked tired…because you were. You tap the screen of your phone to see another 5 missed calls and of course another 10 messages.

Nah had been trying to get you to come back or at least talk to for consistently.

“Please come back flower” "Let me fix this shit please," “Y/N, I swear to you the contract means nothing” “I didn’t mean what I said to you”

“Come home…please”

Should you hear him out? Some would say yes, but you felt too hurt to do so. You married this man, hated him, talked to him more, some forced proximity, shopping and some great sex and it felt as if it was going good. You would even recall those morning where you’d talk to each other before getting out of bed

“So if you weren’t in all of…this” you gestured to the room as a whole “what would you have done?”

“I’m not sure if I’m honest. Maybe just be a regular ceo of a company…maybe a nice little music store”

“A music store?” You giggled

“Mhm, you meet some great people when you’re there. Besides, I hear pretty girls like guys who can play” he smirks coming closer to your lips

“Would you still have married me in that universe?”

“Well first I gotta get your attention and take you a nice date then meet your parents and find the right ring but yeah….i think I would….”

You brush your hair as you thought back on that morning. That blissful month that felt like a dream. You felt as though you were feeling for someone who didn’t even exist. Worst was it was someone pretending to be them….on top of that what he had said honestly hurt. You walk over to your closet and pull out a casual little back dress with some white trimming and detail. Nothing too flashy, you did some light make up and let your hair fall loose instead.

You grab some of your old earrings that were still left in your room and head for the door. You could hear the music and voices that came from the gardens of your family home. Your heels clack down the steps of the marble staircase. You walk outside and it was a perfect fall day. It was sunny and there was just enough of a cool breeze to keep a nice neutral temperature. You look out into the party and see you sisters enjoying themselves and it made your heart happy to see after so long. Cheri was already 15 and you watched as he smiled and hugged everyone that graced her with a gift. Being the baby of the family of course she was spoiled and was the little princess in the home.

Before you could go out to get into the party you hear the doorbell ring. One of the maids had gone to answer the door before you could offer to go and get it. You walk down the steps into the garden and put on your happy mask to not bring down the mood of the celebration. You walk over to Cheri and lean down to her shoulder

"Is little miss Cherry 5 or 15?" you asked with a smile making her spin around. You would always call her Cherry as a child and you still do, you also have her contact info as Cherry.

"Y/N! You came!" she turned to you and clung to your neck "Laura said you forgot about me and wouldn't come" she gave a slight pout dreading for you to miss her birthday

"Me? Miss your birthday? Not even when you're old and wrinkly" you smile at her causing a laugh to erupt from her chest. Her eyes trail form yours to something behind you. You look over your shoulder and see Noah of all people. He was in casual but still dressy attire. Black slacks, button down white shirt with the first two buttons undone and his black blazer to go with his pants. You whirl around ready to rip him a new one for being there until you brother spoke

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he was trying to hold back on language for the sake of family and friends there. Noah has his hands up as sign of complacency

"Just here for the birthday girl, brought my gift for her alright? Is that so wrong, Matthew" he used his name as if they were on the best of terms

"You know why the fuck you're here you bastard," he said coming closer but you put yourself between them. Noah keeping sharp and cold eye contact with your brother. Matthew looked like he was ready to rip him apart. The day he picked you up, you were in emotional shambles, seeing you so down and out because of him!

"Stop it you two!" you whisper yell at them "Take this inside, and no fighting!" you give them a stern look as the party starts to quiet down

"I think your sister’s right. Let's talk like men" you shoot, Noah a glare, knowing that tone better than anyone in that room. You didn’t have to say anything to him, but he turned on his heel and made his way back into the kitchen. He looked at your brother and asked him to calm down before you both went inside and join Noah. You made sure to close the door behind you as I have some privacy to your conversation. Noah leaned against, a part of the counter as you were on the opposite end doing the same. With your brother standing in the middle, looking as if he was a mediator for you both.

“ first things first. What are you doing here?” You asked straight away.

“you know I wanted to come to you Cheri’s birthday with you, flower-“

“Y/N.” You interrupted and corrected him.

Ouch “…Y/N… I brought the gift for her and it’s right over there. But I also came to talk to you.” Stared deeply into your eyes. Peering into the darkest depths of your soul and heart. It was as if Matthew wasn’t even in the room with you both, but you didn’t want to crack just under his gaze.

“do you know what you did? Will you caused her? The amount of tears I’ve seen her cry because of you… and you just wanna walk in here like some big shot?” Your brother leans on the table, staring at Noah if he was ready to pound over the furniture and strangle him.

“ I know what I did Matthew. But with all respect this is our marriage, not yours. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to my wife alone.”

“I’m not gonna leave her alone with you asshole…” he said, as he strides over to Noah. Despite Noah towering over him by a good couple of inches, he still stood tall with his chest, puffed out, ready to tussle if need be.

You come over and stand between them both once again. You weren’t defending Noah and you weren’t defending your brother but at the same time you couldn’t just let a fire break out in the middle of your kitchen at a birthday party

“ Matthew just go. I’ll talk with him and will be out in a second okay?”

“I am Not gonna leave you alone with some asshole who hurt you. Who knows what he can fucking do while I’m not here!” he argues against your decision

“Some genius you are thinking I’d actually hurt my wife” he scuffs with a shit eating smirk not caring that he may send Matthew into a burning rage

“I’ll if anything happens I’ll call you okay? I’ll be fine…” Matthew squeezes your shoulder with his hand to give you reassurance that if you needed anything, he was just a call away before he turned to leave he made sure to give Noah a look up and down his body ready to rip him a new one. No wait until he was completely out of the kitchen to speak to you. As soon as the door shut, and he was out of say no, it turned to you and it’s as if you were talking to a whole new person.

“You haven’t been home for 3 days and it’s felt like an eternity….” He starts

“ I am home.” You answer as you cross your arms and look out of the “ you know these type of marriages are common. All you needed was an heir, you could have gotten it over with it, and we would have gotten over that hurdle much quicker.”

Noah shakes his head out of your remark

“That’s because it’s not what I want. Don’t you think that if I wanted an heir that badly you would’ve been pregnant by now?” He said stepping closer to you “do you think I would have jumped on that chance the first night we stepped foot into our house?”

He walks closer to you causing you to back up until your butt hits the table. Stopping you in your tracks. Noah stood over you studying your face intently and precisely.

“Come back home with me…” Your eyes broke from his own as if the answer was in writing on the tiled floor. “ What do you want from me? Do you want me on my knees?”

“No i-“ before you can get your whole answer out. Noah is on his knees on your kitchen floor. This feared mafia boss was at your mercy. All you did was leave he could’ve gotten any woman he wanted in the snap of a finger. Yet here he was practically begging you for forgiveness because you weren’t home for three days.

“Noah….. you don’t care about me. You don’t care about a pawn that was part of your contract. And I won’t be any more than just a-“

“No. You’re not just a pawn. You’re not just the contract. You are my wife…” you could feel his hand tracing up the back of your ankle and glide of your calf into the back of your knees. He lives your right knee just a bit. Enough to bring the skin up to his lips and kisses the skin "I really did show up for Cheri's birthday...but I also need you back home Y/N...." he looks up at you from the floor, holding you close him by your legs. His lips kissing your thigh starting from the front and slowly moving tot he inner thigh

“Noah please not here stop,”

“Fuck….i missed your skin so much” he was nearly savoring the flavor along with each kiss “please say you’ll come home with me princess,”

This man was relentless…

“I…..I have conditions…” he looks up at you and rises to his feet

“Any,” he’s already agreeing before you spoke

“1, I need you to explain and explain detail by detail our contract and catches,”

“Done.”

“2….i want transparency of people trying to harm me.” Noah was iffy about that one. He wanted to shield you from the situation completely and totally

“I’m only doing it for your own wellbeing flower,” he said stuffing his hands into his pockets

“I want to know what’s going on when it comes to my life.” Noah think on it for a moment and nods

“Well work on it,”

“And 3…I want another wedding.” Well that one was off from the others

“Why another,” he asks half intrigued

“Our wedding was staged. I didn’t even pick my own dress, or location or venue,” you said beginning to pace up and down the room and stopping at the window “I didn’t even have my friends or extended family there….it didn’t feel special. So if what you say is true,” you turn to him “maybe the wedding can be forgiven with another.”

“Those are your conditions?” He asks coming closer to you

“Yes. And….if they are not met. All of them…I will be back here, permanently” he stops in front of you and takes a hold of your hand

“Whatever my little flower asks for, she shall receive” he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your fingers. He brings it down to slip in your wedding ring again

“You look better with this on you know,” he smirks at you “so what time do you want to leave?”

“You can come and get me tomorrow morning at 10 AM,”

“Not today? Am I still being punished?” He holds a hand over his heart as if you had stabbed him

You simply shrug and smirk. How he missed that smirk, he missed your sassy attitude, the way his clothes would suddenly be mixed with yours, the way you'd ask him to change his outfit so he'd match you.....he missed everything about you

"alright, 10 am it is," he softly smiles at you

"so, what genius gift did you get Cheri? She's very particular so I'm curious of what you cam u-"

"Boquet of lily of the valley, baby's breath and peonies, and the newest release from Gucci in dresses, one in white, pink and blue"

you were speechless. You had mentioned she had a taste for Gucci once and he went ahead and bought he dreses worth thousands of dollars.

"Noah you-"

"Ah," he holds a hand up "I have a gift to deliver to the birthday girl but we are not done" he said walking over to the large birthday bag and starts to walk back to you, his other arm wrapping around your waist quickly kissing your lips with a chuckle and goes back to the party. You stay behind for a while and watch him through the window.

You watch him walk to Cherri and tap her shoulder, he hands her the flowers and the bag. She smiles at him and sets the bag down to sift through it's contents. You watch as her eyes lit up and she pulled the dresses out. She jumps up and down clearly over the moon about her gift. She turns back to Noah and hugs him tightly, you felt your heart warm at the sight. Remembering such a small detail like a brand she likes made her day completely, hell it probably made her year.

In a way you hated how much you loved seeing Cherri get along with Noah. Maybe if this didn't happen, you would like the sight more. You eventually make it back into the party, but kept your distance. You could also feel Mathews eyes burning into the back of your head, but mostly focused on Noah. As the day went on to the sunset Noah had to make his leave.

"I'll walk you to the door" you told him

"Usually it's the-"

"Will you just come Noah?" you turn to him with your arms crossed and a raised eyebrow as you cut him off

"Yes Ma'am," he enjoyed that much more than you expected him to

You walk him to the door and lean against it's frame as you look up at him

"I'll be here, 10 am sharp, princess" he said putting his hands into the pockets of his pants "are you sure you don't want to come home tonight?"

"Very. I can still sleep on my answer you know," you said titling your head at him

"I guess you can, but I hope you don't," as he turns to walk down the steps he turns as if he had forgotten something "Oh an uh, this is yours" he opens his hand expecting yours to land in it. You put your hand in his palm upwards to which he flips and you feel something cold on your finger. It was your ring

"Much better, you look better with the ring on," he smirks as he slyly inches closer to you "I didn't take mine off at all.....since the beginning"

"Oh sure you-"

"I'm serious. Taking it off felt strange and even now I would keep your ring with me at all times. If it wasn't on your hand, I wouldn't want it to be anywhere else." he raised your hand up to his lips and kisses yours fingers longingly "sweet dreams, flower"

The warmth of his hand slips away from yours, and you unfortunately miss the way his hand felt in yours. Your heart, even as you watched him walk away from your home. You were fighting every instinct to run after him and go home.

Home………

Did Noah feel like home to you now? Your arms wrap around your body as you make your way back inside and up to your room again to your solitude. And of course, to think over the decision you had just made. As you walk upstairs, you hear a voice pop up from top step.

“ I thought you would’ve gone with him,” It was your younger sister, sister, Lauren, the third daughter/child in the family “ after everything I just saw, I thought you would’ve jumped in his arms. He would’ve taken you away again.” She chuckles with her arms crossed.

Lauren was always in her own way pick a fight with you. But she was also known as adding wood to the already blazing fire.

“ I am exhausted we can do this another time.” You answer her as you walk past her start walking down the hallway to your room for the night.

“ how do you feel about him?” She suddenly stopping you in your tracks.

“ what do you mean how I feel about him? I don’t feel anything. It’s just a contract, it’s business.” The statement Leaving your lips, hurt to hear and say. although Lauren did find it amusing to pester you at times she did help you to see some clarity by asking you some really annoying questions. Which is why you urged her to be a lawyer.

“Not with the way he was looking at you,” she defends as she walks to you down the hall stopping right in front of you “… same thing goes for the way you were looking at him. If you ask me, I think this might be a little more than just business, maybe even more than just a crush” she had shit to do she pinned.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as your heart, started to pick up against your rib cage.

“Ugh please, today was tiring enough. I don’t need any of your theories in my head.” You said, waving her off as you walk to your bedroom door.

“All I have to say is that I have never seen someone look at another person the way that he looks at you….. just think of your feelings and emotions,” she says quickly before you have a chance to close the door “…. I just want to see you smile again….”

That really did make your heart ache and you stopped at your as he close the door your hiding behind it you give your strong “thank you….goodnight Lauren….”

As soon as the door closed, you could feel your chest ache and way heavy in your body. Your head was spinning in you didn’t know what was happening or how you could solve it. He was a Venus flytrap who had made you comfortable in his sweet nectar, thinking that you were saying. And once you were comfortable enough, he closed his mouth and swallowed you whole.

“I can’t….i don’t……” you couldn’t have possibly felt that way. But Lauren’s words weighed heavy in your head as you think of all those times when you were just look into each other eyes. And your heart and soul longed for it again.

“Oh god…..” you whisper to yourself as you can feel your stomach drop low, and the tears finally cascade down your cheeks “…..I…..I….”

…..

The next morning, you wake up early at around 8 o’clock to hop into the shower and stay there for at least an hour. Both for in everything shower, to kill some time, and to relax from the previous night. You thought long and hard about what Lauren has said, and what you had felt last night. You weren’t willing to give him that soon. Everyone feels lonely at some point, and everyone with a break up in their own way and maybe you were just feeling lonely….right?

You went downstairs into the kitchen to find your mother with a cuppa coffee, sitting alone in the kitchen, asking in the quietness of the morning. She looked at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning honey, do you want some coffee?” You sound down in the chair across from her with a sigh

“Yes please,”

“okay let me hear it,” she says very monotone way as she poured your coffee prepared the way you liked.

“ what do you mean? I-“

“Y/N, I’m your mother. I know when something is wrong and when something is on your mind. You also have the same exact contemplating face as your father. Now, come on tell mommy,”

You sigh as she sits the mug of hot coffee in front of you. You watch as the steam dances into the air in front of you. Thinking on how you'd phrase the words in your head.

"You....you were arranged to dad, right?" you asked already knowing the answer "Did...do you guys love each other? Like....I just don't understand how things could go from being absolute strangers to being in love with.....kids!"

"Well, there are times your father can REALLY push me to the edge. But then I remember the day when we were very young," she sighs looking out into the distance as if the memory was playing right in front of her "It was....about 7 months after our wedding and he had sat me down with him and we discussed some things. First was children,"

You nearly chocked on your coffee hearing her say that

"Children?" you clear your throat and she nods her head

"He asked how I felt about them. I knew I wanted kids and he did as well. Even though we were arranged he said, and I will never forget, 'No matter where you and I stand, whatever children we may have, they will never feel unprotected, unwanted or unloved and if you allow me neither will you'....."

"wow...you...you never spoke about that. And after that what happened?" you asked

"Well, we went on our first date as a couple and a couple months later your brother was on the way" she giggled into her hand "we have been through a lot but there wasn't anything that couldn't be compromised or figured out as long as we talked to one another and listened." she reaches for your hand and could feel them start to become clammy

"I......I felt my heart break the day you left fearing that you'd be miserable for the rest of your life until we somehow got you out but....the day you came back, something was different about you Y/N. I know that look in your eyes, I know what your thoughts are in that head of yours."

You squeeze her hand back "I'm scared mom.....just tell me what I'm supposed to do,"

"You know the answer sweetheart, you just need to figure out and understand it. I know you can do it Y/N, I'm your mother after all" she smiles softly at you. You stand up and so does she as you both embrace in the quietness of the kitchen. His hand rubbing up and down your back bringing back memories of when you were a child after scraping your knee and patching you up. Her scent never changing all these years as you felt like a baby soothed by the mere scent and feel of her mother.

"thank you mom....I love you," you whisper to her

"And I love you mi amor,"

After another hour of just catching up there was a ring of the doorbell. Your mother walks you to the door and bids her goodbyes to you. After she closes the door, you turn to Noah and simply stare at him

"Do I look that bad or good that you're staring?" he asked

"Mmmm like shit, you look like you haven't slept in-"

"I haven't." he cuts you off "I was too excited to bring you home," he offers his hand for you to take. You hesitate at first but soon take it as he takes your bags and walks you down the steps to his car. Helping you into the vehicle, he puts your bags in the trunk and rolls away from your old home soon after.

The drive was calm and quiet, the smell of Noah had crept around you. It was familiar smell, one that would take you back to when you'd be wrapped in his arms as he held you threw the night.

"so how did you sleep?" he asked trying to lighten the energy in the car

"Um fine, kinda weird, a little restless honestly." you admited

"awh, you miss me wrapping around you?" he asked with a soft smile

"with your cold feet? Not even a bit"

"ouch, that hurt to hear princess, I know I would miss your cold feet, because I do" he carefully reached for your hand, inch by inch slipping his own into yours. Once he realized you would let him hold your hand he relaxed and held your hand tighter. As you pull into the driveway you see Vilma outside and she looked SO happy to see you, she had a huge smile on her face. You get out of the car and she pulls you into a hug

"Oh Y/N, please if you ever leave again please take me with you!" she said coming out of the hug

"Was Noah that bad to deal with?" You giggle hugging her back feeling warm by the embrace of an old friend.

"Bad? He'd empty bottles every time he he thought about you. He hadn't played his sad records in years and don't get me started on his moaning,” she went on and you just looked at Noah with an amused look

"Vilma, *ahem* if you don't mind could you please take these upstairs while I show Y/N around?"

"I'll be sure to fill you in later," she winks going to do her task that was asked of her

"Around? I know my way in the house Noah unless, you've got some kind of secret interrogation chamber." you smirk following him up the stairs

"well, not necessarily, just some new decorations is all," he opens the door and let's you step in first, you were greeted by vases of flowers at the entrance. Filled with pale pink roses, Spring crocus and some accents of lily of the valley. The bouquet was beautiful

"Noah these are gorgeous, they give the door a nice touch,"

"oh these? These are just for here, keep going little flower," he nods ahead of you. As you walk further into the home you see every table, and surface possible. You could only gawk at every vase your eye fell upon

“Noah….they’re beautiful I….why?” You ask turning to face him again to find him with a bouquet of roses. They were all white, except for a single red rose that laid in the middle as he stepped closer he said in a hushed but strong voice

“Because you deserve it. Everything you ask of me you deserve. Every woman I’ve come across every person that’s come in my path has NEVER, compared to the person you are Y/N…” hence the single red rose “…I’m sorry. I fucked up, I hurt you and betrayed your trust and I’m sorry…please princess,”

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles breathing in your scent

“You’ve infatuated and hypnotized me completely. Do you…accept my apology?” He asks looking deeply into your eyes

“Noah…I still stand by what I said” you say firmly

“And I’m willing to meet your conditions when you ask. But for right now….i just want to apologize to you….my wife.”

“…..” you take the bouquet from his hand and set it on one of the tables and wrap your arms around him “….i forgive you Noah…” as soon as the words left your lips Noah’s arms encircle you. Holding you tight and close to his body. Afraid that if he let go, you’d leave again. He breathed you in deeply and oh how his heart raced and ached to smell you again. The way you fit in his arms and body like a perfect mold. The way the weight of body seemed to ground him and settle his troubles

“I’ve missed you….” He admits in a low whisper. You didn’t say it back….but you felt the same way. He sets you back down and kisses your forehead.

“Let me put these in water before I forget.” You said grabbing the bouquet and walking into the kitchen. Start looking for vases in the cupboards and find one that was long enough to support the stems of the flowers. As you fill up the vase with water, Noah watches you from behind. The way you moved so naturally in the kitchen, as if it were a home you had been in for years. That’s what he always wants to see and what he never wanted to let go of again. The way you smiled when you sniffed the flowers was reason enough for him to change his ways. Hell, he would even give up his entire organization if you asked him to.

However, he thinks he would rethink that because he would want to spoil you beyond belief. You smile as you finally situate the flowers in a proper vase and set them in the middle of the dining table and you look back at Noah.

He takes slow strides to you where he keeps you near the table. You hit the edge of the table with Noah leaning in to your, mere inches from your face

"Flower, tell me something," his breath brushing your lips. You hands holding some of your weight behind you on the table

"what..." you whisper back

"did you miss me?" maybe....he said kissing your cheek "dream of me?" at times.....a kiss just in front of your ear and you can't help the chill that runs through your body "Did you reach for me when you slept alone?" yes..

"I...." you swallow hard and gasp as his hand suddenly finds your waist and pulls you close to him, you chest rising and falling as his lips graze your cheek and come back to your lips, Your noses bumping each other

"noah...."

"Y/N....." he closes the aching inches between you in a heated kiss. It was long, hard and full of emotion. His other hand tangles into your hair bringing you even closer than before. His single hand nudges you and helps you to hop on to the table. He slots himself between your legs as he finally parts for a breath of air.

"If you leave me again, I would surely die..." he said against your forehead, planting another kiss

"You're so dramatic," you smile, your eyes half lidded still drunk on his kiss

"Only for you, my little flower" he picks your lips and moves across your cheek down your neck into your shoulder. He kisses along the length of your arm and down to your hand, to kiss each finger. He then leaves a kiss in the center of your palm as he gazes into your eyes.

He never breaks eye contact as he lowers himself onto his knees and kisses the side of your knee. His hands pulling you to the edge, hiking your skirt up to about your waist to expose your panties. He practically burrows his nose in your pussy and takes in a deep Breath.

He growls into the fabric of your panties “fffuck,” he sounded like a beast that was finally feeding for the first time in months. He lays his tongue flat on your pussy shaking his head no, his saliva and your juices soaking the material

“Oh god!” You gasp it had been some time since Noah had even touched you, much less since he had kissed you or "Ah!" the cool wind hits your wet fold as he moves your wet panties to the side. The tip of his nose brushed your swollen clit as his tongue slowly trails his tongue from your entrance, up between your folds and up to bring your clit into his mouth and gently suck on it

"O-oh...shit," you gasp as your hand rakes through his hair bringing him in closer and all he did was let out a muffled chuckle as he ate with more passion

"Mmmmm fuck," he mumbled against you as he lapped and sucked at your heated core

"N-Noah....f-fuck!" you moan feeling your pussy ache and pulse at him

"Mhm....that's right....say my name” he said between laps as you could feel a knot building in your lower stomach

“Mmm….do you…forgive me?….use your words…baby…” he said as he aggressively ate your pussy. A starved man on his knees with his meal being devoured in mere seconds

“Y-yes! Yes Noah! Oh!” You moan out as your voice cracked. This was definitely his way of saying sorry, on his knees, face buried and covered in your juices. Giving you the pleasure you deserved. His tongue swiping over your entrance as you clenched around nothing from his work on your pussy. He know you were close

“cum for me baby......cum...for...me" he said between lap as he sucks on your clit harder. Your moans and pants filling the space of the kitchen as your hips start to buck into his mouth slightly. Your vision goes blurry as your eyes roll back feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you like a wave. With a cry your thigh snap against his head as you lean back on the table, his mouth still helping you to ride out your high. He made sure to lick you clean, swallowing and enjoying every lick that he took

After he was down he kissed your left thigh and looked up at your chest as you try and catch your breath. You sit up on your elbows and look at him, your hair now a mess, giving you the signature "I just had sex look"

"I missed the way you taste," he smiled coming up to your face and kissing your lips, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulls you close to him once again and holds you close

"I'm sorry baby, how about you go and wash up, and we can sit down and talk?" he asked "Or..whatever you wanna do,"

"Yeah...that sounds good," he fixes your skirt and bring you off the table and kisses the side of your head. He lads you upstairs and to the bathroom as if you didn't know where it was. It was as if you had never left. All the things you left in there were still in it's place. If anything it seems as if he had stocked up on some of the things you buy. The lotion you liked, the air freshener, even your preferred size of pads/tampons. He had even kept and replaced your scrub with a new one. It was easy to say the shower was relaxing and enjoyable, you just felt so...at home, so natural.

After your shower, you hoped into your PJs and head outside. There Noah sat in his signature shorts and no shirt. His tattoos on full display. Damn, you forgot how much you loved those.

"Ready?" he asks patting the space next to him

"yeah....I'm ready," you had felt so welcomed and comfortable you nearly forgot what you had agreed to, You sit down and face him read to receive his information

"First and for more, the contract," he really wasn't wasting time here "Yes, it does state we must have a child within the first year. Yes this can get me kicked from the organization, possibly putting us both in danger. On top of that, I knew you wouldn't want kids right away or how you felt about it at all. Which is why I was trying to fight it, and why I sounded so pissed that day you heard the conversation" oh...maybe you should have heard him out that day

"Oh....oh okay, well then I'm sorry for blowing up on you and leave-"

"I'm not done, princess," he interrupts and you shut up and continue to listen

"When you had brought it up and you were packing you had done something to me that no one has. You scared me...." he admits taking a hold of your hand "I don't know what the fuck you did. Maybe you put something in my drink, my food, maybe you just manipulated me. Or maybe you just have a lot of charm" he smirked "...whatever you did, you have made me into someone I didn't recognize. I....I didn't want you to leave, I didn't want you to think I was hurting you when I wasn't and I just snapped that day...."

When he called you so many things, he saw the look on your face and immediately regretted even having a tongue to speak with. This was the woman he had begun to think of constantly when making choices, who prompted him to enhance security, who motivated him to work harder to provide her with everything…

"I never meant a single word that day princess. Not one. I....I...." he held his tongue and scooted closer to you. He looked like he was holding a deep secret that he deeply wanted to tell you but didn't "you.... mean so much more than just a piece of paper with our names on it. I want you here...with me....and I apologize for any tears that eyes shed because of me…."

"You do? You don't mind sharing the bed with a pawn?"

"A princess. I'm sharing my bed, with MY princess." he corrects you.

“So were you really crying like a teenager since I was gone?” You tease him with a smile

“You know I thought I wouldn’t miss that smart ass mouth of yours but, I really did,” he admits

“Good to know,” you said making a mental note. You were glad you got the biggest hurdle dealt with but now came the other matter

"And the people wanting to hurt me?" you asked knowing this was a sensitive and important topic. After all it triggered you leaving for a couple of days

"I'll arrange for Nick and Jolly to stop by to give us a briefing in what's going on and what we've got so far" he offered “for now I just wanted to clear up our fight. Is that alright?”

You nod your head "...okay sounds good," you look down into your lap and think for a moment. You scoot up on to your knees and shift into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist you rest your head into his shoulder and close your eyes as he hugs you back

“Thank you….” You whisper “I forgive you…”

“Of course my princess, anything your heart desires I’ll give.” He says “now what does my little flower want? Hm?”

“Let’s just stay here….for a little bit” you answer not wanting to move.

“Okay course princess,” he carefully lays back on his headboard keeping you in place. You back where you belonged. Not just in the home but in his arms as well.

That night Noah held you just a bit tighter the information you’ll learn tomorrow may scare you off. But for now those thoughts were pushed aside finally feeling you against him once again

“You’ve been eating fruits…” he said randomly

“Huh?”

“You tasted sweeter than usual today,” he said casually “or maybe you were just excited to have me eat you out-ow!” You pinched his back for ruining the moment with his dirty thoughts

“…well maybe I was a little” he smiles knowing it was true. And he planned on having seconds tomorrow morning.

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

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cloverstayy · 3 months

Text

𝚆𝙾𝙻𝙵𝙸𝚂𝙷 ⇢ 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡&𝘺/𝘯

First off, thank you so much Anon for suggesting this absolutely adorable idea! And if you've got an endless supply of them, go ahead and send 'em my way! I'll make a list.

That being said, I honestly had a lot of fun making this one. I have an 8-year-old little boy, so I kind of got to relive that time during my pregnancy. I hope I did your suggestion justice and you enjoy it! If you read this, thank you. Please reblog to share as it honestly makes me insanely happy when others can enjoy my work!

STORY RATING E for everyone.

TYPE husband!chan and wife!y/n, slice of life

CONTENT WARNING Brief use of explicit language at the end, otherwise absolutely NOTHING besides a ton of fluff!

W/C 2,160

“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said the item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby."

“Y/n?”

My attention bounced from the phone in my hands over to the nurse straddling the doorway directly between the main waiting area and exam rooms. She clutched a clipboard close to her chest as her eyes leveled with my own, a soft smile blooming across her face in greeting.

“Chris, babe, c’mon. That’s us.”

My fingertips grazed his bicep, having quickly traveled down to his forearm to deliver a placid squeeze.

Chris’ eyes sought mine as an shallow hum resounded from his chest; the palm of his hand asserted the gentlest of guiding pressures against my lower back as we both made our way to the waiting nurse.

———

“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have you hop up here,” The nurse gestured with a nod in the direction of the the exam chair. “How’s your first trimester been so far?”

I padded towards said chair, positioning my body so my behind was pressed flush against the chair’s edge. I planted a palm on either side of my hips and hoisted myself up the rest of the way, “Ah, well, y’know…its been an experience, I’ll say that much.”

A seasoned hum bristled from the nurse, who had already started to prepare the sonographer’s machine. The quiet click, click, clack of the mechanical keyboard filled the room as she navigated through several menus before locating the correct patient file.

“This is your first, right?” Her head moved to make eye contact, however her body maintained it’s station as her hands continued to fly across the keys.

The nurse paused, her focus dialed into me as I acknowledged with an affirmative hum.

Her head returned to it’s previous position as she flipped through several more menus, logging updated numbers for my vitals, “Well, I’d say calling it an experience is quite accurate! You both excited to find out the gender?”

Noticing Chris had become distracted on his phone, presumably answering something important, I gently nudged his elbow with my foot to capture his attention.

His eyes flitted upwards, darting between the nurse and myself as a sheepish smile painted his features. Chris readjusted in the chair directly adjacent to the exam chair, sliding his phone into his back pocket before responding, “I have been counting down the days. Between myself, Y/n and my bandmates, its an even split.”

Having completed the prep work for the sonographer, the nurse swiveled on her heels as she faced the both of us, “Well, good thing you there is a 50/50 chance someone is right. Though, I’ve gotta know, what are mom and dad hoping for?”

Sharing the same braincell and without missing a beat, Chris and I responded in tandem, “Girl.”

———

“Alright, Y/n, I’m going to take a view measurements and make sure everything is growing the way its supposed to and that everything is in its correct place. So I may get quiet for a moment, but after I’m done, the we will do the exciting part, yeah?” The sonographer clarified as she pulled a pair of latex gloves from an overhead cubby near the machine’s monitor.

Drawing in a gulp of air, I signaled my understanding with a brief nod of my head, “Take all the time you need! Baby’s health is way more important, of course.”

She flashed me a brief smile before she spun her chair back into position to face the sonogram’s display, promptly sliding her finger over the probe’s ON/OFF switch to the on position. As she held the probe in one hand, she grabbed hold of the conduction gel and tilted it upside down before giving it a few solid shakes to shift the settled gel to the open end.

“This might be cold, I’m sorry!”

Her fingers gingerly squeezed the bottle as it dispersed in a little blob near my belly button. She oriented the bottle upright and returned it back to the slot in the sonogram machine, she then touched the probe to my tummy. The probe passed over my skin from belly button to slightly below the top of my underwear before the clicks of the keyboard indicated the input of data.

Approximately 10 minutes passed, the whirring of the machine kicking up a notch anytime the sonographer captured a particular angle to get a better measurement, before she turned to face Chris and I.

“Well, good news is Baby Bahng is growing right along schedule and looks absolutely perfect. Baby's length is around the 75th percentile for gestation, but I’m not too entirely worried about that as getting super accurate measurements when they’re still this little is a bit harder, especially length. Are there any questions you have about this part?”

“Chris?” I broke eye contact with her to make my own with his, whose eyes were transfixed on the sonogram display during the duration of the sonographer’s exam, “If he doesn’t, I don’t.”

“As long as my little pumpkin is happy and healthy, I don’t have any questions.” His eyes connected with the sonographer’s as they upturned in pure pride.

She met his response with a perfunctory nod, “Alright. Let’s see if we’ve got a girl or a boy, shall we?”

“Absolutely.” Chris’s reaffixed his gaze to the monitor, his words near imperceptible, but laced with such anticipation awaiting the sonographer’s findings.

I sensed the sudden warmth of Chris’ palm, pressed firmly right above my kneecap, as his fingers compressed into the sides of my leg in a secure grasp. I untucked the hand nearest Chris, my fingertips finding the security of his free hand. Without so much as a twitch, our hands interlaced and fingers slotted together.

“Alright, let me zoom in just a bit here…” She paused, leaning towards the monitor to get a better view before clicking the mouse to magnify a bit closer, “Yep. Thought so. Congratulations to the both of you! You will be welcoming Baby Girl Bahng…in give or take about 6 months. Let me get some pictures printed for you both.”

She lifted the probe from my growing bump, wiping and sanitizing clean the probe’s transducer before slotting it back into it’s holder. While she took a moment to toss her gloves in the bin directly under the sonogram desk, she handed me a cloth to wipe up any remaining gel she missed during clean up. Her chair softly creaked as she swiftly returned to her chair and begin printing sonogram photos for Chris and I.

Upon hearing the words Baby Girl Bahng, Chris and I made eye contact. And so much was said without saying anything at all.

“A girl…” I breathed, the grip with Chris’ hand only strengthening.

“A girl.” He spoke so resolutely, and rightfully so. But it was in more ways than just having been told so. From the moment I had told him I was pregnant, he emanated this entirely new type of confidence in virtually everything from handling the ebb and flow of my emotions to the rather normal or insanely bizarre nature of my cravings. And never, not once, did he question his ability in becoming a father.

But in this moment, it was like that confidence only amplified upon itself—wholly unwavering in any capacity whatsoever after hearing the news that we were going to be having a girl. It was in moments like these I was reminded that falling in love with him was quite possibly one of the easiest things I’d ever done.

———

“Lemme get the door for you, baby.” Chris’ feet shuffled towards the car door, his hand gripped the underside of the handle as he pulled upwards so he could usher me inside.

As I situated myself in the passenger seat, I wrestled the seatbelt from behind my shoulder and adjusted the lap portion under my bump. Chris’ door opened and he begun to settle into the driver’s side just as I clicked the belt into place.

“I already know the answer to this question, but I’m going to ask it anyways,” Chris slotted the key into the ignition as he placed his hand on the gear shift, throwing it into reverse before resuming his query, “How does a strawberry cheesecake concrete sound right about now?”

“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby. Can we snag some salt and vinegar chips, too?”

Chris guffawed at the request, already knowing that any answer other than yes would be the wrong one, “Of course, baby girl, we can definitely do that. Y’know, I was talking with Jihyo the other day. The topic of your cravings came up.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, the ice cream and chips weren’t anything out of the ordinary to her at all. Those are rather timid in comparison,” Chris shifted his focus to me briefly, flashing one of his perspicacious glances in my direction, “It was the…weird and absurd ones that she honestly got a kick out of.”

“Oh god, Chris. What did you tell her?” I whinged, bringing the palm of my head to my forehead in preemptive embarrassment.

“Remember that time you sent me out at like 2am because you demanded salt and vinegar chips?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, yes I do.”

That wasn’t the only thing I demanded, though.

“Yeah, but then you demanded marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers because you absolutely required those items to make ‘salty s’mores’ and if you didn’t get those items, you were going to—and I quote—‘expire’.” Chris couldn’t help the goofy smile that surged across his face.

“Listen. Those were absolutely delicious and I’ll die on that hill.” I crossed my arms over one another as I feigned some kind of weak attempt at indignation.

“Hey! I never said they weren’t. I tried one, remember? I thought they were tasty.”

“I forgot I made you try them, now that you mention it.” I let out a soft chuckle, “What else? I know that wasn’t the only one you mentioned.”

Another boisterous giggle filled the car, “Well, I definitely mentioned the very specific ice chips you like from your favorite restaurant and the spicy buldak ramen you’ve been eating almost every day. But I think the kimchi with any kind of sour candy you can manage to get your hands on or the recent habit of putting ketchup on quite literally anything is what managed to really baffle her.”

“You did not tell her about the kimchi and sour candy.” I winced, throwing my head back against the headrest.

“Oh hell yes I did. How could I leave that one out?” Chris’ voice dripped with a amusement, finding my reaction to be almost as funny as the craving itself.

“I cannot believe you,” I shook my head. “Hold on, what did you tell her I was putting ketchup on because I know how ridiculously you can exaggerate.”

“I left the obvious ones out, of course. That just seemed pointless. But, I told her about the scrambled eggs and macaroni and cheese,” Chris paused, his eyes taking in the lilt of my brows as he pulled into the parking lot of our favorite ice cream parlor. “But I might have mentioned you also like it on kimchi, dipping egg rolls in it…that fried rice Minho makes…I did mention tacos and sometimes, but not always, the buldak ramen. I think that was it.”

The expression that overtook my face was nothing short of deadpan, “I’m going to end you, Christopher.”

Once the car was in park, Chris erupted in laughter, “You’ll do no such thing. You love me.”

I rolled my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my pointer and index fingers, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

The laughs quickly progressed from general light-heartedness to Chris’ signature squeaking-laughs, only wavering in intensity as he continued to intake air.

“Stop laughing at me!” I shrieked, my hand unknowingly making contact with his shoulder.

“Oh baby girl,” his laughs halted as he took the hand I thumped him with in his, “Jihyo found it absolutely weird, yes, but also completely endearing. As do I. Endearing that is. You’re growing a whole damn human. You have every right in the world to eat the most eccentric food combinations you want and do so as you damn well please. And I will procure those concoctions whenever you ask.”

Once again, despite feeling a wee bit ridiculed for my rather odd pregnancy cravings and the subsequent winding up I received for it, Chris always had this proclivity for knowing just what to say when he could sense even an inkling that I might become upset. This sense only seemed to intensify since becoming pregnant. Add yet another reason why choosing to love him was the most effortless commitment I could’ve made.

“C’mon. Lets get inside and order you that ice cream, yeah?”

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sinsandsweetness · 9 months

Note

Shane. Shane’s stuck in my head. I wonder if he and Rick got up to any shenanigans late at night in the police station with a cute girl…. I know Rick probably just watched but dang. Just thinking about it 👀 and if Merle and Daryl were in the drunk tank next to the cell…..

Shane is forever stuck in my head <3 I usually don't go for the pre-apocalypse au's but damn. this one got me dreamin' and drooling....

pairing- (Shane x fem!reader)

cw- dub con? just a power imbalance more than anything, mentions of drunk driving, very suggestive but no actual smut. 1.4k wc

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You walk past the two officers, both a little shocked by your vulgar language. Reaching the bars and seeing Merle grinning like a madman. Drunk. Clearly. Smelling of bourbon and poor decisions.

“Aw, sugar-tits! I knew you’d come. Daryl says you wouldn’t n’ I says oh yesss she will,” he slurs his words. “And here you are! Our saving grace.”

You immediately turn to face Daryl. Bags under his eyes, elbows leaning on his knees while he sits on the bench. Clearly just as tired and irritated as you are.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You smack him on the shoulder with your bag. “I could barely pay rent this month. There's an eviction notice on my damn door and you think I can afford to bail your lousy, drunk of a brother out of- "

His eyes go wide at your confession, shooting up to grab your hand.

“You don’t have to keep living with that loser, you know you can come stay with me-“

You shake him off. Blood starting to boil with irritation. “That’s not the point, Dare! I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep saving his ass whenever you two need it.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Attempting to contain the flood of emotions that the week's events are summoning.

“How much is it?” you brace yourself for the worst. Subconsciously knowing that whatever disgusting number you were picturing, would still be better than whatever Daryl was about to say.

“… 500.”

“Fuckin' hell, Dare.” He gives you a look that reflects exactly how you feel. Apologetic. Angry. And so fucking tired.

With a deep breath, you tell him you’re going to try and talk to the cops that brought Merle in. To see if there's any way you can work something out.

Pulling your skirt down slightly, in an attempt to be more modest for the police than you are for the men you wait on, you make your way over to the men. The tall one, dark hair and handsome in an almost intimidating way, is standing at the counter, chewing on a toothpick. The other is just as handsome, though in a softer way. Pretty blue eyes and an unsurprising wedding band adorning his left hand. He sits behind the desk as he fills something out on the computer. The satisfying click and clack of the keyboard, times almost perfectly with that of your heels on the grey linoleum.

You approach the two with your sweetest smile, full of remorse. Your pretty eyes scream 'pity me' and you pray that the officers are kind enough to listen.

Immediately, you notice the way that the dark haired one stares down your blouse as you come to a stop. Taking a little breath for courage before starting your little spiel.

“Hi.” You can't help but blush a little at the look that Officer Handsome is giving you.

“Hey, sweetheart. What can we help you with?” He licks his lips and can't seem to contain the way they curl into a cheeky grin.

“My friend there, the uh, dumbass behind the bars…. well, you see he’s just, um…” pull yourself together, baby. “He fucked up. And I know that. He knows that. Even if it doesn't really seem like it. He really fucked up and if this were any other week, me and his brother over there, we would have more than enough money for his bail. We just.. Um, don't have it right now. So, I was wondering if there's any way we could work something out, like a payment plan or…”

“You got a boyfriend?” he asks, obviously uninterested in your proposal.

Mouth agape at the bold interruption, you respond hesitantly, glancing back at Daryl for a second.

“Uh, no but…”

“Really? Pretty boy over there… he’s what? Just a friend?” he nods towards Daryl, who can't quite hear but is obviously intrigued, and trying to assess how the conversation is going.

“Yeah, we're just friends… why?”

He ignores your question again, hand coming up to touch the cross pendant on your chest, “Cute necklace.” He smirks again, this time at the way your breath hitches at his touch. Fingers moving over to play with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger.

“Shane.” The officer at the desk scolds his partner. Unimpressed but seemingly unphased by his behaviour, not even glancing up from the document he's reading.

“Ricky, c'mon. Look at her. Ain’t she gorgeous? What the hell are you doin' hanging out with these idiots?”

Apparently Daryl could hear that remark because you hear a faint, unimpressed, “Hey!” come from the bench behind you.

“Dare, sit down.” You tell him, with a scowl on your face as he sighs and sits back down and leaned into his hands once again. Praying for the night to just be over already.

“His brother is the idiot, he’s just… too loyal for his own good.”

The officer, Shane, nods his head, continuing to inspect you. Black mini skirt and button up blouse, curly hair cascading over your shoulders. Smelling like vanilla and vodka and whatever body oil is making your long legs shimmer so beautifully in the fluorescent lights.

“What are you doin’ up this late, anyway?” he asks. Apparently intrigued by your attire.

“I'm a waitress. I was just walking home from the bar as I got their call.” The constant dreaded call to come bail Merles drunk driving ass out of jail. 2:00 am on a friday, and you should have known they'd get themselves into trouble.

“You know, this is his third time. We've already taken his license. Impounded his car. If you don't have the money then…there's really not much I can do.” Shane tells you, that wicked grin still splayed on his face.

“You can leave him 'til morning, come back when you have the money.” Rick offers, finally putting the papers down and leaning back in his chair. One boot crossed over his knee as he relaxed into the leather cushion.

“And how the hell do you propose I come up with 500 dollars overnight?” You try not to sound so rude, but you’re tired and cold and Merles drunk babbling from the cell is really starting to piss you off.

The two men share a look and you feel goosebumps raise on your bare legs.

“Pretty girl like you… shouldn't be too hard.” Shane says, flicking his toothpick into the bin.

You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, “I'm not some kind of whore, you know.” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a little exposed in the excessively cold air conditioning.

“Of course not. That’s not what I meant, sweetheart.”

“Then what'd you mean, huh?”

“Yeah, Shane, what did you mean?” Rick crosses his own arms, entertained by his friend getting himself stuck in such an awkward predicament.

“Yeah, Shane. Why don't you expand on that for us.” You lean against the counter and he shakes his head with an annoyingly attractive laugh, which you can't help but smile at. Forcing you to forgive his crude suggestion almost immediately.

“You gonna give me your number or what?” he says, leaning up beside you.

“I’ll give you a whole lot more than my number if you can get his bail waved.” You bite your lip and nod towards Merle in the holding cell.

“Thought you said you weren't a whore.”

“Shane-” Rick hisses, warning his friend to tone it down. They're supposed to be officers of the law after all. Though you aren't really offended. You would fuck the man for free if he asked.

“You got an office here or something?” Your left hand starts to play with the keys on his belt, slowly making their way to the buckle, where you tap your french tips a few times, looking up at him with a look so sickeningly sweet, his cock actually twitches.

He thinks for a moment, letting you pull at the leather band until he’s flush with your core.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, realizing you’re actually serious. Deciding to give in to your downright sinful suggestion. “Rick. Turn off the cameras in the interrogation room.” He turns to his partner. Blue eyes, all wide and dumbstruck.

“Shane, that’s illegal-”

Shane grabs your hand and starts leading you towards the room, talking over his shoulder, “Rick. Cut the fuckin’ cameras." His lips brush your ear as turns to whisper, nudging you forward, "I’d ask him to join, but I already know he won't." You smirk at his confession, looking back at Rick and silently wish the ring on his finger wasn't there.

Shane directs his attention at Rick once more, "You can watch from the glass if you’re feelin’ left out.”

You can't help but giggle as you enter the room. Empty, aside from a metal chair and table. Shane pauses at the doorway, catching the attention of Daryl from down the hall.

“You too, pretty boy. This is for your brother's sake after all.”

-continued here

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @eternalrose81 @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @grimesthinker @cl0wnb0yyy @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee

(what the hell do I name this fic??)

also I don’t know shit about jail so… don’t come for me lol

#shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut #shane walsh #shane walsh fanfiction #pre apocalypse au #voyeur!rick #voyeur!daryl #drunk tank

277 notes · View notes

mads-nixon · 6 months

Text

Meine Liebe

Dick Winters x Translator!Reader

Masterlist

Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)

A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her.

“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).

“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”

With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”

(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”

Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic.

“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”

“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”

Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army.

As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet.

The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne.

With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.

The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”

Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”

Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.

Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”

“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”

Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point.

“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth.

Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze.

After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”

Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”

“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’

“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’

As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.

Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.

(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.

She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.

Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”

(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”

Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”

A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home.

A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.

(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”

He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”

She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”

The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”

(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”

“So you’re doing this for them.”

“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.

A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.

“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.

As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA

(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.

Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.

Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”

“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.

“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her.

The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink.

“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”

(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.

Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond.

Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”

Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”

Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”

Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”

(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder.

Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”

The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”

In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.

With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”

The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long.

Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.

In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”

Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”

The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.

“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.

Will you marry me?

A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.

In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”

Will you share your life with me?

Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.

With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”

I love you.

With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.

Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer.

With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.

Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.

“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”

The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?”

“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”

Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”

(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”

“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.

“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”

“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”

He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”

Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton @ronsparky

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#band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #dick winters #band of brothers imagines #easy company #dick winters x reader #dick winters fluff #dick winters imagine #dick winters imagines #band of brothers easy company #easy company imagine #easy company x reader #bob #hbowar x reader #hbowar #hbo war x reader

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coconutdays · 2 years

Text

Computer Science major! Eren

s. i just saw an eren headcanon abt him being a nerd and thought abt him being a computer science major lol

w. fem! reader , eren jeager! x reader , fluff!

Computer Science major! Eren who’s in your Political Science class and has always been intimidating to you. He looks like he’s always high, walking into class with fired up eyes and silent as he listens to whatever’s blasting through his AirPods. You gathered he was a computer science major after getting a glimpse of his screen littered with applications upon applications of code.

Computer Science major! Eren who you learn probably always has bloodshot eyes because he’s pulling all nighters, the same coffee cup always in his hand every time he comes into class.

Computer Science major! Eren who you find hot even though he looks like he hates everyone including himself. Maybe it’s because he’s so good at looking like he could major possibly be a jerk.

Computer Science major! Eren who types incredibly fast, the rapid click-clack of his laptop keyboard always lulling you to sleep.

Computer Science major! Eren who’s presence you feel behind you while you’re struggling to get a pack of cookies from the vending machine. He’s always been intimidating but now it’s worse cause fuck he’s waiting and you can’t get these fucking cookies to fall. He's probably talking shit about you in his head cause you're an idiot that can't handle a vending machine.

Computer Science major! Eren who leans over you, raising one of his hands in a fist to bump the top of the machine. It makes your cookies finally fall.

Computer Science major! Eren who picks up your cookies and hands them to you, tired but terribly hot eyes looking into yours. “gotta hit the top a little bit cause it does that a lot.” he says.

"oh. thanks! I wouldn't have thought of that." you smile, masking how nervous he made you out of politeness

Computer Science major! Eren who gives you a tired grin, adding, "you're too short to reach it anyway." and now you're malfunctioning, cause

did he just tease you??????

"excuse me? what?" you move aside while gasping in disbelief at the fact that you've never spoken a word to each other and now his second words uttered to you were to tease you.

Computer Science major! Eren who's still looking at you as his lanky figure punches the code of his snack into the vending machine without looking, wow he really does use it often then.

"what? you're telling me you can reach the top of the vending machine?" He almost laughs

"okay, sorry we're not all skyscrapers like you." you wave your hands and arms in the air sarcastically as he leans down to pick up his snack.

Computer Science major! Eren who stands straight to his full height right in front you, sleepless half-lidded eyes peering down at you.

"oh yeah?"

Computer Science major! Eren who makes heat creep up your neck as you try to eye back at him defyingly, trying to keep down the smile forming on your lips.

"argh" you srunch your nose, turning on your heel to walk to class, "i have to get to class or else someone's gonna take my seat!"

Computer Science major! Eren who's softly smirking at you as you he follows you to class, finding the fact that you're so easy to rile up cute.

Computer Science major! Eren who looks extra hot in class now that you've interacted with him. god you feel like a five year old overthinking her crush lending her scissors, stealing subtle glances at him every chance you get. every time you look at him you can't help but think about the way it feels when his eyes are on you.

Computer Science major! Eren who the next class day is poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to stiffle a smile when he finds you cursing yourself for struggling with the vending machine yet again.

"aw, thought you were a big girl." he breathes with fake pity tinted by the slightest playful tone.

"i am." you whip your head around, squinting your eyes slightly at him feeling a small laugh creep its way up your throat.

Computer Science major! Eren who's almost pressed up against your back as he looks down at you and hits the top of the vending machine.

"sure you are."

you huff as you snatch your cookies from him away, trying your best to come up with a comeback, "at least i look like i get eight hours of sleep."

"so mean." he fake gasps, grin forming into a bright smile as he watches you stomp away, clearly upset your comeback didn't work.

Computer Science major! Eren who's really struggling to hold back his laugh when he walks into the building and spots you desperately jumping up in hopes of reaching the top of the vending machine.

The smallest snicker leaves his throat and you glare at him, "stop laughing."

"i'm not laughing!" he holds up both of his hands in defense, moving his mouth every so often to hold in the humor you've caused him.

"are you gonna hit it for me or what?" you sigh, exhasperated, eyes and mouth clearly giving away how smiley he was making you despite your attempted mean tone.

Computer Science major! Eren who laughs as he hits the vending machine, letting you stomp away yet again with your cookies in hand as you grumble a 'thanks skyscraper'

Computer Science major! Eren who you find the next class meet day leaning against the vending machine, dangling your cookies in one hand, but his eyes grow wide at the sight of you and he feels his hoodie growing annoyingly hot.

you were sporting a pretty short dress, prettier jewelry than usual, sweeter scent than usual, and cleavage annoyingly bared right in front of him.

Computer Science major! Eren who tries his best to seem unaffected, trying to tease you again with the cookies in his hand as you walk up to him, shaking your head with a pretty smile on your cute face.

"aw you know my favorite." you tease as you reach up for them, except he raises he them out of your reach

"ah ah." he leans forward, "say the magic word."

in too much of a good mood to defy him after finding his thoughtful act for you cute, you comply easily with a small grin.

"please?"

Computer Science major! Eren who doesn't think twice before uttering a proud, "good girl." except he just as quickly realizes what he just said.

Computer Science major! Eren who quickly hands you, just as taken aback, your cookies and coughs as he walks away, pulling at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to cool himself down.

Computer Science major! Eren who's tired but intrigued eyes watch as you plop yourself into the seat next to his in class shortly after he sits down

"thank you for the cookies." you softly beam as you poke him with your elbow.

Computer Science major! Eren whose cheeks are slightly tinged pink as he looks at you, "no problem."

Computer Science major! Eren who feels awkward since class is a good amount of time away from starting and you're sitting next to him, pulling up your google docs notes in silence without a single word being spoken by him.

"you look pretty. where are you heading?"

Computer Science major! Eren who's leaned a bit forward, fumbling with his pen as he tries to keep eye contact with you.

thrown off by him calling you pretty, you breathe a "nowhere. i just wanted to dress up a little more today."

Computer Science major! Eren who blurts, "i could take you to the art exhibit a couple blocks over after class."

he points at the art major sticker on your laptop with his pen, painfully trying to avoid your pretty eyes peering into his soul, "since you're an art major i think you'll like it. paintings to take good pictures with."

"well could we drop off my computer at the apple store real quick before we go?" you question innocently, "something about my shift key isn't working."

Computer Science major! Eren who wants to slap himself because he added without thinking, "i could look at it for you. i took digital electronics so it should be easy to fix."

Computer Science major! Eren who's flustered at the gleeful eyes you're giving him as you nod, biting your smile down a bit, " 'kay.”

Computer Science major! Eren who nods his head forward a bit as he looks at you then his pen, "cool."

hehe i wanna do a part 2.

edit: here's part 2 you incels

#eren x you #eren fluff #aot #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #attack on titan #snk #snk eren #eren yeager #eren x y/n #eren jäger #shingeki no kyoujin

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1d1195 · 7 months

Text

Protection - Extra I

Read the rest of it here: Protection

I thought you all might want to read a bit about this. This is in between their dip in the water and their trip to England that I previously skipped over. (between part 9 and 10)

Just cute stuff I think (@freedomfireflies said it was romantic 😍thank you for reading it ahead of time for me). A little angsty maybe if you read it the right way.

~4k words

“Are you alright?” She asked, it came out strong. It was important to her to say it fully, no teeth chattering. She wanted to make sure Harry was okay.

He laughed, loudly. He couldn’t help it; he nosed at her ear. “Oh, love. M’fine... s’long as you are.”

The water was freezing; it was December after all. It felt like ice on Harry’s skin, and more so like it was seeping right into his veins. It was no more than twenty seconds before he reached her. He grabbed her by the arm before she started sinking further to the bottom. With a hurt leg and her arms once more held together by a zip-tie, his supervisor was definitely planning on letting her painfully drown to death.

It made Harry sick to be associated with such a place.

Harry pulled his free arm toward the top of the sea. They crested over the surface. Harry gasped quietly, more worried about making sure she had air. Almost immediately, he cupped a hand over her mouth a bit to hide the sounds she made as she spluttered over the splash of the waves. He worried that his supervisor might come back to check that she really was gone. Harry waded the pair of them toward the bottom of the little cliff. So that if he did look down, the view would be obstructed. “Shh, shh, m’here, baby. I have you, honey; m’so sorry, kitten. But y’gotta stay quiet, love. I got you,” he promised treading hard for both of them to stay afloat. It was so fucking cold. “M’sorry,” he whispered softly. As her breath came back more evenly, he pressed his lips to her forehead. Her lips were turning bluer by the second. Just like when she was paling without enough blood. It made him nervous even though he knew it was because she was freezing. But what truly worried him most, was the look of shock on her face. Like Harry wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to find her and keep her safe.

After several seconds of silence, Harry didn’t have much choice but to risk it either way and started to swim awkwardly toward the sandy area nearby. He hauled her to shore, cradling her as best he could. They paused just at the shoreline Harry stretching his achy muscles from the stiffness of the cold. She didn’t even have a coat, the poor thing. Her jaw chattered almost violently—he could hear her teeth clacking together high heels down the hallway. Harry couldn’t feel his toes. “We gotta get warm,” he murmured, taking his pocket knife to the ties and releasing her poor, delicate wrists. Instantly, he was back on his cold feet. He scooped her up close. It was nearly second nature to hold her to his chest. He wished he could have stayed dry but what was his other option? Leave her in the water?

She looked tired, cold, and blue. “H-Harry,” she murmured, teeth clicking.

“I know, honey,” he cooed sadly; willing himself to be stronger because he had to be, he started back to his car.

“I-I hate h-him,” she reminded him sniffling a bit into his neck.

“I know. Me too, kitten.”

“How d-did you—?” There was a shake in her voice along with her teeth.

“I put a tracking device in y’scrunchie,” he admitted. He looked shy, embarrassed, his cheeks pinking at the admission. She wished she had the strength to reach up and touch them because she imagined his skin would warm her fingertips. “M’sorry, love...but I couldn’t...I don’t—"

The relief on her face was absolute. She looked at him as if he just told her that her mom was alive. “J-just p-put one in m-me,” she leaned toward him, pressing her face to his neck.

He smiled, grateful for the small reprieve of seriousness. The guilt he felt for tracking her like she was his property was abundant. But he was so grateful she was happy at the thought. “I thought ‘bout that too,” he confessed sheepishly.

“Are you alright?” She asked, it came out strong. It was important to her to say it fully, no teeth chattering. She wanted to make sure Harry was okay.

He laughed, loudly. He couldn’t help it; he nosed at her ear. “Oh, love. M’fine... s’long as you are.”

“I’m ok-kay.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, trying to nuzzle up to Harry. She wanted to shield herself from the cold sea breeze, but Harry was just as cold too. There was nothing but shivers passing through them like an electric current. Harry felt so much relief but was getting frustrated with the temperature of the air, the chill in the water, and just of course the day as a whole.

To conserve energy, they were silent. Eventually, they finally made it back to his car. Without running, it seemed like it took hours, not minutes, to get back. The poor thing looked so utterly exhausted. Harry reached below the wheel hub for his spare key—he probably could have left his whole key ring but he didn’t want to be without a phone, a car, nor his wallet in the event something worse happened. (Especially because he wanted to keep her precious handwritten notes preserved in his wallet safely. No way he was willing to risk losing those.)

He set her on her good leg, her body throbbing anyway as if it were the bad one because she was so numb with coldness; Harry kept her pressed to him. Her jaw was shaking so violently, Harry worried she would hurt her teeth. He bit his lip; now that his mind was clearer with less cold saltwater attacking him and taking over all rational thought and senses. “Honey,” he said softly, almost unsurely. Nervously. Like she was going to hate what he had to do to take care of her because he hated what he knew he had to do.

“Whatever you h-have to d-do, Mr. EMT.”

He sighed with more relief passing through him. He smirked at her, amazed she could still make jokes when her fingers looked like they were about to fall off from the chill. He coaxed her to sit on the ground—mindful of her aching leg. She frowned instantly, from the lack of contact—even if she and Harry were cold it was better to be held by him just because he made her insides feel warm.

But Harry was as speedy as he could be. He grabbed a couple blankets and the array of clothing he had in the boot originally packed for the gym. There were a few leftover sweatshirts from the change in season when he would wear sweatshirts home from the gym to keep the chill in the air from bothering him when he was all sweaty. Hurriedly, he laid one of his blankets in the backseat.

He turned back for her. She was wide-eyed. Waiting for directions, chattering, rubbing her hands up and down her arms trying to get the friction to warm her, to do something for her cold and achy skin. “Love, I gotta take your clothes off.”

She looked devastated. Immediately she regretted her words that she would do whatever he asked. She shook her head at him, her eyes pleading with him. “N-no m’cold,” she chattered again.

“I know, beautiful. M’so sorry. But we have t’get warm. M’cold too, kitten. But—”

“P-please, no,” she begged anyway.

“Honey—”

“Can’t w-we—”

“M’gonna take my clothes off too, kitten, we need body heat,” he explained. Reminding her of the science may have helped the cold slip out of her foggy mind and appeal to the part of her brain that knew the science behind what he was saying.

It seemed to do the trick. “Oh, why d-didn’t you s-say so,” she smiled as flirtatiously as she could with blue lips and icicle-looking hair.

He rolled his eyes. “Keep it in y’pants, love.” But she couldn’t help it. Really couldn’t. Because naked Harry was all she thought about for the last week and half. Before the awful terrible stuff happened. He pulled his jacket off, hurried to the driver’s door and started the car blasting the heat. “S’gonna feel awful, love,” he warned. “M’so sorry,” he kissed her forehead hating how her skin felt colder than his own chilled lips.

Sighing, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, bravely giving him the go ahead. She sighed deeply as he helped her back to stand and he started with the thin shirt she had on from the hospital. “D-did you kn-now the wa-water is warmer in December than a m-month like M-May c-cause the h-heat cap-pacity for water st-stays long-ger from the s-summer? S-so this water is ac-actually w-warmer c-cause of August?” Harry didn’t know if she was genuinely trying to make conversation or if she was trying to distract herself. Either way, he was hopelessly in love with her beautiful brain.

“So, May would’ve been a worse time for this t’have happened t’us?” She nodded as he peeled the cold, wet clothes off her body as quickly as he could. “A Christmas miracle,” he murmured.

He did leave a sports bra and her underwear on, but it was of course not nearly enough for Christmas Eve in December. She whimpered as the breeze brushed over her. He carefully helped lay her down, so she was lying on her side closer towards the back of the seat. He then wrapped a sweatshirt around her cold feet, rubbing over top of them to add to the friction. He angled the vents from the front so she would feel the warmth hopefully. Harry stripped immediately and quickly as possible. His jeans were a challenge to peel off—stiff with the saltwater soaking every little fiber. He hurried to pull a blanket halfway around his side so he could slip into the space left for him beside her. He was grateful she already felt a smidge warmer as he pressed his body as close to hers as he could and shut them both inside his backseat with a slam of his door and click of the lock. “This is s-so unf-fair,” she whispered to herself.

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Promise I’ll let y’look s’much as y’want when we’re warm again,” he wrapped her closer. God it was so nice to hold her. Even if they were both freezing. Even if he wanted to explode with anger and murder all of DSS (except Niall).

They didn’t speak again for the duration of however long it was again, to conserve energy. Harry closed his eyes feeling relief crushing him as he held her to his body. Her icy skin was still like heaven to touch. For the first time in nearly a week, he felt like he could breathe again. Despite the direness of the situation, he was certain this was some form of heaven. He listened to her breathing against his neck, her quiet sniffle every few moments as he inhaled against the side of her head basking in the warmth he felt just from knowing she was safe in his arms.

Harry didn’t look at what time they got into the car but eventually the windows began to steam, and her shivers subsided. Her hair stopped dripping onto his skin and Harry could feel his toes again. “Do you have an eight-pack?” She murmured into his chest. Her nose was still cold, but her teeth weren’t chattering anymore. He felt her hands curled right below his navel.

He smirked lazily. “Behave, m’love,” he mumbled into her hair, enjoying the ease of the moment. She was warmer. She was safe. Harry wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a second for at least a month—maybe longer.

“Am I really that ugly you’re unaffected by me being naked?”

“M’not dignifying that with a response, kitten.”

She sighed. “You’re never gonna sleep with me, are you?”

“Honey, I thought y’were dead four days ago. Y’almost drowned within the last hour. Not t’mention y’were drugged a few months back, twisted an ankle, and nearly sliced y’hand open. Jus’ wanna hold y’right now,” he murmured. “Jus’ lemme do it.”

She didn’t say anything for a few beats. “When you say it like that it sounds like I’m cursed.”

He smiled. “M’gonna sleep with you. Promise.”

She was a little skeptical, mainly because she was cold and grumpy. “Are you gonna be weird about my leg?” She asked.

He nodded decidedly. “Very.”

She released another exasperated sigh and let the silence wash over them again. Harry squeezed her every few moments hoping for extra warmth from the friction. Also, because he was so happy she was okay; alive and real. He paid special attention to her breathing, listening for signs of irregularities. “Harry?” She asked so quietly, Harry worried that she was about to faint or something.

“Yes, m’love?” He hummed.

“Are we...still going to England?”

Harry felt the smile expand on his face so warmly it was hard to imagine he was cold right now. “Of course, kitten,” he hummed. “As soon as we pack.”

“Will your mom and sister like me?”

Harry felt his heart stutter against his ribs. He wondered if she felt it against her lips. “Yes, honey. Very much. Almost s’much as I do.”

“How much is that?”

He sighed. He thought about the notes he had in his wallet. Her little heart telling her she didn’t get kidnapped while brushing her teeth. How close she really was to predicting the future. Then of course the much more recent, horrible time she said sorry so profusely and admitted she adored him. “A lot, kitten. So much.”

She nodded, deciding there wasn’t much point in arguing. Harry found her despite everything, all the heartache and all the drama anyway. It was plenty—more than enough, really for her to believe him. “Okay, good,” she said. “I want out of here so bad.”

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her temple and giving her a squeeze. “Are y’warm?”

“I can feel my toes and fingers again,” she flexed them against his body for good measure.

He nodded gratefully. “How’s your leg?”

“It hurts a lot,” she had been focused on getting warm, but she was in so much pain between the cold numbing of her limbs, the hole in her thigh already seemed like nothing in comparison. But she couldn’t help but feel the sore ache of the ripped flesh coming back with a vengeance. “Saltwater and everything.”

He kissed her forehead. “We’ll go in jus’ a few more minutes. S’it unbearable?”

She shook her head. Harry was holding her. He was bare except for a pair of cold wet boxers. He was holding her. His lips were in her hair and his breath touched her scalp. Almost drowning, getting drugged, twisting an ankle, getting shot, and slicing her hand seemed like nothing. She would even consider doing it again if Harry could hold her like this forever. “No... not unbearable,” she decided.

He nodded sullenly. “I don’t have a plan,” he admitted. “I don’t want... them t’know you’re alive,” he murmured.

“Me either.”

More silence followed. It was comfortable though. What could they possibly say right now? Harry was just so grateful she was alive he didn’t care if they spoke for the rest of their lives.

She started giggling shortly thereafter. Almost uncontrollably. Her mind was thinking about how ridiculous all of this was. How bad it was. All that happened over the last couple weeks—the last few months with Harry. The laughter shook her against Harry making the friction warm themselves faster.

“Why are y’giggling? Y’need medical attention again. We need t’get into your apartment...we...” he sighed. “S’a mess, love. Such a mess.”

She pressed her cheek to his chest trying to stifle her laughter. “Yeah, it is...”

“How can y’be so calm ‘bout this?”

“I am basking in how nice it feels to know DSS is the worst.”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Honey; s’not the time.”

“Y’know what will be really fun,” she said softly. “Telling our kids that you shot me.”

He winced trying not to picture it even though she said it so casually, as if it was an inside joke. But he liked the idea of their kids a lot. “Are y’delirious?”

She smiled into his skin with a little nod and shrug. “I have a plan. But we’re going to need some help.”

“Jesus Harry, I’m so fucking sorry,” Niall croaked the second he answered.

“Niall, stay calm; they can’t know. Especially if you’re around anyone else,” her voice was low, just in case anyone overheard his conversation. “Say so fucking sorry, Harry, again if you understand and can do this right this second or I’ll hang up and try again in a bit.”

There was a silent second as Niall theoretically composed himself. “So fucking sorry, Harry,” he repeated breathlessly.

She was taking charge again. Harry was hunched awkwardly on the inside of the seat while he worked on her leg with a kit he had from his EMT days. Most of the stuff was expired and there were a lot of materials missing, but it was better than nothing. He wrapped a dry sweatshirt around her torso, she wasn’t wearing pants while he tended to her thigh, but he had never loved her as much as he did right then. “Can you get in my apartment? Say yes this is real, if you can, or no I don’t believe it, if you can’t.”

“Yes, it’s real,” he said stiffly.

“A little more emotion, Niall. They won’t believe you. Tell Harry when the services are supposed to be.”

“Eleven in the morning. Saturday, the twenty-eighth.”

“Leave it to dad to ruin everyone’s holiday break so he can sell his suffering...” she grumbled. “We need two tickets to England at that time...can Harry text you on this line? Say yes, you’re allowed to come or no, you’re not.”

“No, you’re not allowed to come.”

She nodded, but by and large that was only a small hiccup. “Can you come to Harry’s house?” She asked. “Say I’ll send you the info or I can’t.”

“I’ll send you the info.”

“I adore you, Niall,” she smiled sweetly. “Aside from Harry you’re the only good part of DSS.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” he whispered off script; she wondered if the sorry really was meant for her or for Harry. In the end she suspected it was probably both.

“I know...we’ll see you later,” she promised. “I owe you a big hug.”

“Bye, Harry,” his voice cracked a bit. She smiled sweetly.

“Bye, Niall.”

Niall had her passport and the duffle bag that was packed in her apartment along with all of her belongings that she asked for—as well as a set of crutches to help support her injured leg. He shoved Harry out of the way when he opened the door, nearly throwing her heavy bag at him and heading over to her on the couch to cash in on the hug she owed him.

Harry rolled his eyes but completely understood Niall’s anxiety and excitement just knowing she was alive.

“How did you know you were going to make it out alive?” Niall finally asked after a thousand other questions.

She smiled at Niall. It was the first time Harry left her alone in a room for longer than a minute—even if he was just one room over and could still see her if he looked around the half wall. He was organizing his things in his own suitcase and simultaneously checking the paperwork Niall had done. He was focused intently on reading everything, making sure everything was in place. There was not a single centimeter of room for error.

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t know it was going to be this dire,” she shrugged.

Niall was looking at her like she was a ghost. Harry had her leg propped on the couch; a pillow stacked to keep it fluffed up. She swore it didn’t even hurt all that much, but they had spent the last few nights in crummy motels and after he helped her shower in his own regular-sized shower, a day before they departed the country, he wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as humanly possible.

At night, he wrapped her in his arms so tightly it was almost too hot when they woke up. But Harry couldn’t let her go—not even an inch. She didn’t protest either; the warmth was welcomed—especially after the frigid dip in the icy water. Plus, sleeping with Harry was all she wanted. Well...the most rated-G thing she wanted to do with Harry.

“I told them you’re leaving to visit home,” Niall said to Harry. “They don’t understand everything, but they won’t bother you.”

Harry nodded silently in response to triple checking again.

“Can you tell my professor I’m not dead...once I’m in England?” She asked.

Niall smiled. “Happy to.”

“Do you have a plan?” She asked.

“M’surprised y’don’t, love,” Harry muttered placing the passports and other paperwork into a folder for safekeeping through their travels.

“Oh, I do. I was just wondering if Niall did.”

Chuckling, Niall smiled. “M’all ears, darling.”

So, she explained her thoughts. Told him exactly what she thought would happen and how it should be handled in response. Apart from a few minor details, he agreed wholeheartedly. “You really like this guy?” He jerked his head in Harry’s direction with a smirk.

She nodded eagerly with a pretty smile. “Yeah...I know.”

Harry shook his head as he rolled his eyes at her. “You’re much too smart for him,” Niall reminded her.

She giggled and Harry sighed. “That I agree with,” Harry murmured.

“He saved my life, though...a lot,” she shrugged.

Niall smiled brightly. “Give Anne and Gemma a big hug from me, yeah?” Niall said, kissing the top of her head. “And don’t let him feel too guilty, y’know how he gets,” he whispered only for her as he pulled away from their embrace. “Harold, maybe don’t turn her into Swiss cheese? Enjoy the holiday?”

She giggled but worried Harry would have a breakdown if they kidded too much about it. Considering it was still so fresh. Especially since she knew Niall was right about how guilty Harry was probably feeling. The second Niall was gone she dropped her head back against the cushion. “I have no books to read while we’re there.”

“I’ll buy us some,” he promised and came back over to sit on his coffee table. He still looked exhausted—beautiful, but exhausted. It was only a little after eight in the evening.

“Can we go to bed?” She asked, yawning because she was exhausted too. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle close to Harry in a normal bed.

He smiled tiredly. “Yes, love, of course.” Harry helped her stand and held onto her to support her injured leg. “I wish you’d jus’ let me carry you,” he murmured the short walk to his bedroom. She ignored him and slipped between his soft sheets, and it felt like a cloud was holding her in comparison to the stiff motel mattresses. She moaned softly at the feeling. Harry chuckled.

“Comfy?”

She nodded. Harry slid in beside her and they were drenched in darkness. They were set to leave tomorrow and get away for a bit. A comfortable silence fell over them. It had been happening a lot since she woke up from her little medical nap. There was too much to think about. Too much to do and until they were safely away from DSS in another country. So the quietness was peaceful—after everything. They had said so much through words and actions over the last few days. There was still so much to discuss but it would have to wait. They were so very tired. Ached to the bone with injuries, chills, and bad dreams. She wanted to sleep for days. She wanted Harry to sleep for days. “Can I live here? On this mattress?” She asked.

Harry’s heart fluttered. “You can live here forever, Miss Wildflower,” he promised, making her heart melt. It was the first time she had ever felt so truly cared for since her mom died and it was overwhelming to say the least. His fingers danced along her arm making goosebumps appear on her skin, but not because she was cold. No, Harry made her so warm just by being there.

“Even with all my crazy flowers?” She whispered quietly.

“Especially with your beautiful flowers.”

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anya-anya002 · 6 months

Text

𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔲𝔪 (i) *full*

ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ! ᴀʟᴇx ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you have a biology exam and you ask your friend’s father to help you study-

𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: age gap (21 f, 37 m), cheating, corruption kink (u gotta squint-), established relationship, mentor x apprentice relationship, medical kink/anatomical words….

(Guys…..I haven’t been to a med class in almost a year bear with me and Google-)

In the back of the funeral home was a small office; that’s where Mr. Turner authored the obituaries. Although small, it has a sort of coziness to it with its darkened navy walls stained with cigarette smoke. Then, to cover them were clippings from anatomical books he published. But now, it’s a dimly lit room with the familiar stench of cigarettes. You stood in the doorway with your bag in hand.

Your eyes were already focused on the person who occupied the room, Mr. Turner. His thick, brown tortoiseshell glasses perched on the tip of his nose as his fingers typed away on the laptop. A cigarette tight between his lips while his nostrils trickled out smoke like some kind of work fiend. But yet, he somehow looked peaceful. His shoulders slouched, and his hair ruffled. The blue light from the computer clashed against his face exposing smooth yet wrinkled skin. Yet, in all this time, he managed to keep his youth; you envy it.

“Mr. Turner,” you spoke. The air was thick with silence as the keys clacked. Then it stopped, his head turned to you, a blank expression worn as you stopped dead in your tracks. The lamps above the bookshelf cast ghastly shadows against his face, making his eyes glow.

“I, I was just wondering if you were being serious when you said you didn't mind helping me with my biology course last week.” you stammer.

“My anatomy test is in like three days, and I just can't wrap my head around everything,” you finished. Your words spewed out like vomit as you gripped the strap of your bag. While you were nearly panicking, Mr. Turner frowned. His arms stuck out tall while he stretched. Long, thick fingers interlocked as he let out a soft grunt and then returned to his position.

“Yea, I told Marie to let you know after she told me you're studying to be in mortuary science,” he said, a slight smile gracing his face. You nod, enter the room, and plop on the small, gray, squeaky couch. You looked at him, then at the brass clock that hung behind him, then back at him. Your nerves scorched at knowing that your friend told her father what you wanted to do.

“So, what’s the test on?” He asked. The cigarette ash fell onto the desk as he set it in the nearby ashtray. You paused, swallowing dryly before gripping the edge of the couch cushion you sat on.

“Uh...reproduction,” you said in a low voice. He hummed and looked at you again, his eyes a lot livelier.

“Hmm, do you have flashcards or no?” he asked, you shook your head ‘no.’ His index finger tapped the top of his knee rhythmically.

“Hand me your notebook,” Mr. Turner said, you scrambled and reached into your bag for it. You stood to hand it over, your legs rickety as you stood in front of him. His eyes peered up at you, scanning you up and down as he still tapped his finger against the desk. His gold band glimmered in the soft, yellow light as he clicked something off on his desktop. Flipping through your notebook for a moment lazily before speaking.

“Y/N?”

“Yea?” you perked up as he sat your notebook in his lap.

“Do you remember the barbeque your family threw that summer?” he asked, you sat down slow, still gazing at him while you nod. Both your eyes piercing into each other like needles before you blink. You were squirming in your skin as you nodded, vividly remembering the way his hands ran up your spine. Your cheeks heated up as you tugged on your top. Your ears rang from the silence, just the two of your gazing at each other.

“Yes,” you breathed to which Mr. Turner grinned. An almost crooked, hungry grin as he ran a finger through his hair. Bringing his chair out from his desk and sliding it right in front of you.

“How about we... study in a different way hmm?” he proposed. You nodded without a second thought, and the smirk on Alex’s face turned ghoulish. His dark eyes glowed within the small, dark room as you squirmed.

“Strip,” he commanded. You blinked, your whole body sweated as he stared you down. You slowly kicked your shoes off, each layer dropped onto the floor in soft thuds.

“Point to me where the vagina is,” he deadpanned. His warm honey, deep voice within the tiny room, like a bear growling within a cave. Once your jeans were gone, there was nothing left to remove. Your nakedness made you realize how warm it actually was in here. The beating in your chest turned into banging. You pressed your lips together tight, your hands shaky as you brought your arms to your chest.

“Y/N,” Mr. Turner said. You looked at him almost like your head was filled with cotton. His legs crossed to prop your notes against his slack-cladded knee. The lenses of his glasses now blocked by golden light as he waited.

“Yes, yes sir?” you asked. Your eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Anxiety began to bubble in your chest as he repeated himself.

“Point to me where the vagina is,” he said, even while repeating himself he just stayed purely monotone. As if you weren’t sat in front of him completely bare, he propped his head in his hand.

You scooted back on the couch, your body tense as you spread your legs, exposing your two puffy lips. Your eyebrows furrowed while your left hand reached down, past your stomach. Spreading your pussy lips with your middle and pointer finger.

“Do you need a mirror?” he asked, your eyes widened as Alex just watched you unfold. The idea of your cunt being seen back to you made a slither of shame appear in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay to need help, isn’t that why you’re here?” he cooed. You blinked, everything you thought about Mr. Turner may be wrong. You looked at him blankly, his fluffy shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a little half-up ponytail as he sat the book down onto the desk.

He leaned in close, the smell of bourbon and jasmine was faint while his eyes refused to stray from yours. Should you say something? Maybe you do need a mirror, you’d never know.

“Can you move your right hand for me?” he asked. The timbre voice rumbled through the room as he rested his hand on your ankle. Reaching down, the pad of your finger poked around. Cringing at the feeling of your finger poking at your urethra, almost like taking a big inhale of car exhaust.

But then that cringing vanished as you eased inside your hole. A soft gasp left you as your cunt began to stretch at the intrusion. Mr. Turner sat there unmoved, his eyes trained on your finger curiously.

“Is that where it is darling hmm?” He asked, a smirk bloomed on his face as arousal bubbled out of your little hole.

“Yes Mr. Turner,” you breathed. He hummed in approval then gently pulled your hand away, your finger removed from your cunt. His eyes went from yours down to between your legs. Your eyes clenched tight as he leaned closer. His breath ghosted against your legs, the follicles in your skin stood up as his closeness became ‘coke-headed’ close. His head hovered above your pelvis, his eyes looked down at the view.

“What a gorgeous thing Y/N/N,” Alex said. His thumb pulled the two thick lips apart to gaze upon the hole. His peer grew once more as he continued to gaze at your pussy.

“Tell me,” he began, his hands remove themselves from between your legs and ventured toward your inner thighs. They gripped the fat of your thighs tightly as he pecked your lips. Your eyes widened at the action,

“Now,” he said. His right hand and left leg untangled themselves, unzipping the golden zip of his dark green slacks. Fuck, the last time you saw him like this your own intoxication interrupted. But now there was no coitus interruptus, just you.

“I know you guys joke about the clitoris but….” Once he unzipped the slacks, the shade of this boxers were a deep maroon, but there wasn’t enough time to fully gaze once he pulled himself out.

Thick, that’s all literally all you could think, like any girl in a porno; will that thing even fucking fit in you?

“Which is more sensitive huh, the tip of my penis…or that adorable little clit of yours?” He asked, his cock ran across your slit, heat radiated off him. Fuck, he felt so warm, warmer than the room itself. Instead of static you felt fire licking up your sides.

“The clitoris?” You said, more like asked, maybe he didn’t catch the sudden inflection. Alex’s eyebrow raised, however…fuck he caught it.

“Are you sure dearest? Do you need an example?” He asked. Grabbing the base of his member and rubbed his tip against your vulva. That fire that licked up your sides, now seared them.

“Oh,” you shivered, his tip is flushed as he rubbed it against your clitoris. Mr. Turner groaned, eyes screwed shut while he see-sawed against your soaking slit. Deep-red tip moved in a circular motion as you whined, squirming against the couch as you gasp.

“Are you sure now?” He asked.

“T,the clitoris sir,”

“Hmm,”

His rubbing became faster, as if he was consumed by pleasure. Out of your control, moans continued to slip from your mouth as his thumb eased his tip inside. Gasps filled the room. Your eyes cracked open to see Mr.Turner, his glasses now perched atop his head as he clenched his eyes shut. His smooth, pale skin pasted in a thin sheen of sweat, his crow's feet now more prominent skin wrinkles like how one ruche cloth.

“Fuck-” he cursed, your hand that held your lips spread snaked to his. A fire blazed against your cheeks at the feeling of his hand against yours. Odd, such a trivial interaction sent your heart into overdrive and your scalp all prickly.

“Mr.Turn-”

“Alex,” he groaned out, his eyes opened while he reached down and gripped the fat of your thighs.

"Alex," you gasp. Your eyebrows furrowed as he gazed down at you, almost like he's never seen you before.

"Are we still studyin'?" you asked. Then you both went silent; your heavy breaths could be heard throughout the tiny office. This silence, however, was tensionless. Like a little break.

"No," he panted. His face leaned down to your ear. He hummed and slowly began to thrust inside. The feeling of his sheer girth nearly painful, your eyes screwed shut. Your hips felt wide almost like they weren’t supposed to bend like this.

The two of you panted as Mr. Turner’s hips rocked slowly. Watching your every move as his hips rolled against yours. Your legs burned slightly, making your face ball up as a hot tear rolled down your cheek.

“Alex!” You cried. Your hands gripped at his clothed shoulders. He ran his fingers up your spine all while tangling himself into him.

“Shh, shh, I know it hurts angel…you’re so tight though,” he cooed, to which you looked away flushed. Alex’s chuckles filled the room, still praising you sweetly as his hips pulled away from yours.

“Just breathe for me,” he continued, Mr. Turner’s lips pressed against the left side of your face. The rough hairs of his beard scratched against your skin. The pain slightly dulled as soft lips press all over your face. His little whispers and coos finally subdued once he felt your hips buck against his.

If you could take a picture of the sheer pleasure that appeared on Mr.Turner’s face. His lips curled into a large grin. His large hands ran over your breasts, his palms rough, calloused as he pawed and squeezed at your flesh.

“Al-“

“You’re gonna pass the exam-“ he blurted right before pounding into your cunt. You stare at him wide, the tip of his penis nudge against the swollen, spongey spot that made your entire body shudder and a loud moan to come from your lips.

The wallpaper appeared to be peeling or it may have been your head rocking up and down from Alex’s thrusts. His hair dangled down against his forehead as his cock plunged into your wet pussy, the squelches brought your hands up to shield your face. Embarrassed if you could still feel that with your nakedness on full display and your legs spread wide giving him a full view.

“H, How?” you finally squeaked, your eyes big as you gazed up at him. You would've been actually studying for said exam if it weren't for his cock that thrusted deep inside of you, nudging against your spot once more. He moved your hand away as you whine loudly, now able to fully look at him in the dim light.

“How can you fail the easiest exam in medicine?” he chided, his hips snapped against yours, a loud slapping sound filled your ears. His tip poked at the tight ring of your cervix. Your moans grew loud, echoing throughout the tiny, dark funeral home. The couch lurched with each deep thrust he made. His tip was kissing your cervix more as your pussy gush around him.

Alex moaned at the sight, his eyes glued between your legs before he spoke once more.

“I mean- we’re ‘reproducing’ right now,” he teased, you gazed up at him. If it were anyone else who said that, you'd get up and dip out, but it's not anyone. You shivered at the words clenching around him and hearing his moans in response.

“What’s that called Y/N?” Mr. Turner asked, eyeing you with curiosity. His hips still moved as you thought of anything to say yet the way his thick cock fucked into you deep dumped out all your words like a piggy bank. Easing against your spot as you moan.

“C’mon Y/N…what’s it called when you squeeze your cute little pussy around my cock?” He asked, a brow raised on his sweaty forehead as you shiver and clench around him again. Unable of an answer you blurt,

“Contraction?” You asked meekly to which he chuckled low. His laughter rumbled against your chest as you look up at him. Your big eyes couldn’t sway him however as he grabbed your leg and placed it on his hip, forming a pressure in your lower stomach akin to someone sticking a finger deep inside your belly button.

“Wanna try again?” He teased, the golden light tickled the sides of his face, shimmering through his locks of hair as he gazed down at you. However this time, you answered him,

“Vaginismus,” you said, still unsure. Your mind occupied on your friend’s dad’s cock thats stretching your walls.

Mr.Turner, or Alex tapped his chin, now actually serious. He gazes down at you. Scanning over your body as if you’re a text book or an anatomical diagram as the silence crept back in. Your chests heaving as he searched for an answer.

During that tense, confused silence you heard footsteps. As if not even the dead that rested here wanted you to finish upon hearing the loud, slow, clicking footsteps. Mr.Turner’s eyes widened as he paled—quickly, he scrambled. Pulling out of you, to your dismay. You began to whine softly, but he simply shushed you by pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Get dressed we’ll finish at some other time,” he whispered before getting up and adjusting himself. A scowl appeared on his face as he tucked himself back in his slacks and wandering out to investigate the noise.

Leaving you all to yourself in the empty room…

“Who’s here?” Mrs. Parks-Turner’s voice filled the quiet hall, to which you tensed. Your heart stilled, scrambling to get dressed once more.

“No one Vivi, just a video in my office…”

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅: @rentsturner @harrysbestiee

*if you’d like to be tagged just message me ‘tagged’*

#anya—anya #my fics #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #funeral director! alex #mentor x mentee #arctic monkeys #full story #the bar🍸#mortuary au #Spotify #smut #𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔲𝔪🪦

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