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ludicdoll · 7 months

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𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐔𝐏 — farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

warnings: farleigh being a little bitch, cussing, smut, eating u out like chinese takeout, a little banter, lowkey enemies to lovers type of thing

synopsis: you spend your first few days of summer at the saltburn estate. luckily for you, farleigh doesn’t seem to like you that much.

a/n: working on a few requests rnnn send in some moree!! this is for my stinkabutt @uch3na

you spread out on the lounge chair, silently sun bathing as you ponder at a magazine. you watch as felix and farleigh swim around in the vast pond. you turn your head over to venetia, smoking in front of you. she’s laid out with a towel underneath her, looking very intrigued with what she’s reading. you had been friends with her for a while now, and to your surprise, she had invited you to spend the summer at the saltburn estate. she had to convince you for weeks until you said finally said yes. you close your eyes, breathing in the fresh summer air. suddenly, you feel a giant wave of water drenching you. you yelp, immediately sitting up to see venetia quickly running back.

“what the fuck?” venetia yells out. the two boys laugh to themselves, a satisfied look on farleigh’s face. “you’re such an ass!” she grabs her stuff hastily as she sets her stuff back down elsewhere. you roll your eyes when you see farleigh waving his fingers at you mockingly.

you flip over your towel, placing on your shades before laying back down. after a while, you hear the sound of water sloshing around. farleigh gets out of the water, grabbing his towel from the grass. you watch as he pats himself down before joining you on the lounge chair next to you. he reaches over to the table, lighting up a cigarette. you hear him sigh in relief as he adjusts himself in the chair. “slutty bikini,” he mumbles under his breath. you turn, lifting your sunglasses up to get a better view of his face, “excuse you?” he turns back, his hand reaching out to you, another cigar between his fingers. he’s offering you one. you shake your head roughly, “i don’t smoke.” you reply. he scoffs, you can tell he’s rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. “of course you don’t,” he murmured as he places the cigarette back in the pack.

“it’s harmful,” you start, “i’m trying to keep my body clean.” he almost laughs in your face when you finish your sentence. “yea, well you drink like a sailor.” you turn to him, scowling. “you run through ten packs of cigs each day.” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “so? you’re the one that drinks away all of your problems.” he grumbled. you sit up, almost offended at his snarky remark. “oh c’mon, farleigh calm down.” felix intervenes. you lean back into your chair, crossing your arms. felix gets off the floatie in the water, walking over to you two. he stops abruptly, taking a sip from the cold lemonade on the table before placing his hands on his hips. felix turns his head back and forth to you and farleigh, a frown on his face. “this doesn’t sound like harmless banter anymore.” he says. farleigh shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “let it rest.” felix directs to farleigh before jumping back into the water. you huff in frustration, ignoring farleigh muttering quiet insults towards you.

you stir your soup with your spoon, glancing around occasionally to everyone else at the dinner table. you were surprised to see that everyone was almost halfway finished with their food, venetia on the other hand was just staring down at her bowl. “dear, aren’t you going to eat?” elspeth asks with a motherly smile on her face, you look over to her end of the table, nervously biting your bottom lip. to be frank, the soup was disgusting. you didn’t know what it was, but it was gross. “i happen to have an upset stomach tonight, im sorry.” you reply. “really?” farleigh buds in. “you seemed to be perfectly fine during brunch.” he says while slurping the soup into his mouth. you see venetia roll her eyes at him. elspeth turns back at you, almost like she was waiting for an answer. you furrow your brows at farleigh, pissed with his childish behavior.

“maybe i’ve gotten a stomach bug.” you say to elspeth with a smile. she nods before going back to her food. felix stares at farleigh, almost like he was communicating with his eyes. whatever it was, farleigh had stayed quiet for the entirety of the meal. after dinner — everyone said goodnight, then went their separate ways to their bedrooms. you walk up to your guest bedroom, undressing yourself from the fancy dress you were forced to put on for dinner into your night gown. you make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth. coincidentally, your bedroom was right next to farleigh’s. due to your rooms being so close, you could hear farleigh blasting music. you groan, spitting out your toothpaste and jumping back in bed.

you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore farleigh’s music through the walls. after a few minutes, you turn to your side, covering your ears with the pillow — still, nothing worked to muffle the sounds. you sit up, throwing your legs over the bed and walking down the hall to farleigh’s room. you don’t bother knocking, just barging in. farleigh’s in bed, an arm behind his head while the other was flipping through a magazine. you turn a knob on his radio, the volume lowers. you clear your throat, arms crossed. annoyed, farleigh drops his magazine into his lap, looking over at you in his doorway. he sits up, leaning back on the palm of his hands. he tilts his head to the side, raising a brow.

“what the fuck is your problem, why are you still up at this hour?” you whisper-yell. he rolls his eyes, looking into his lap. “are you trying to piss me off?” you push again, “you know, people are trying to sleep.” farleigh scoffs, lulling his head back. “and? this isn’t your home.” he snaps back. you stretch out your arms before they fall to your side. “this isn’t yours either, more like a personal fucking playground.” you reply. “you keep trying to start shit with me ever since i got here.” he straightens up, acting intrigued in what you had to say. “you know, i don’t understand why venetia likes you so much. i can see right through you.”

you widen your eyes, almost laughing at his response. “yea? i’m just trying to have a good summer, and i don’t give a shit what you think. you need to lay off, it’s getting annoying.” your hands settle on your hips. he glares at you in silence, an irritated look on his face. “if you don’t give a shit, why are you in my room?” he says with an arrogant smirk on his face. you stutter, trying to think of something to say. “because you’re blasting your music at twelve in the fucking morning.” you point to his radio, crossing your arms back in front of your chest. “keep it down, and maybe i won’t bother you.”

“i find that hard to believe.” farleigh breathes out as he picks up the magazine again. he start flipping through the pages like he’s reading, occasionally looking over at you with that same smug look. you stomp closer to the end of his bed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “i swear, if you keep pulling this bullshit with me, i’m gonna make sure the remainder of your summer goes to shit.” you threaten, he doesn’t react, only looking up at you with an amused expression. he closes the magazine before sliding off the bed and walking towards you. you step back as he gets closer, his height towering over you. you swallow, a nervous knot forming in your stomach. “you’re not gonna do anything.” he breathes out.

your only a few inches away from his face when you feel a hand travel up to the back of your neck, his lips grazing over yours. the sudden movement causes you to whimper. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with passion. his hands find their way to your waist. he pushes you against the closed door — kissing your neck. you moan, rolling your head back. “i fucking hate you,” you whisper. “i know,” he says while his hand gropes your breasts. the ache between your legs spreads throughout your body like a fever, and farleigh could sense it. he plays around with the lace hem of your panties, his breath brushing up against your ear.

you groan, grabbing at his hand. “stop doing that.” you whimper, “stop doing what?” he asks smugly. you stay quiet — realizing he’s amused by your slight whining. he flashes a smirk at you, his fingers making their way to your pussy. farleigh kisses down your chest, you feel himself grind against your stomach while his fingers spread you out. you bite back a moan when farleigh ghosts past your clit, teasing you. he watches your face closely as he slides his fingers inside of you slowly. your knees feel weak, trembling under his touch. “if you hate me so much, why are you soaked?” he questions. you avoid his question while looking away. he tilts his head the to side to kiss you, his fingers sliding in and out of you.

“fuck, farleigh.” you moan softly trying to keep your voice down so the whole family doesn’t hear you. farleigh rubs circles over your clit, his eyes locked onto you. he keeps his pace slow and deliberate — almost like he was mocking you. he liked keeping you on your toes, constantly needing all of him. “how long have you pretended to hate me, huh?” he groans out as you squirm. you roll your eyes from the pleasure, but also from his conceited question. “shut up.” he laughs, shrugging before going in to kiss your parted lips. he pulls his fingers out, the wet squelching sounds making you slightly embarrassed. he ghosts his thumb over your clit again, smirking. “c’mere,” he mutters as he softly tugs you close to the bed.

you lay down on the comforter, your legs handing off the edge of the bed. you watch as he kneels down, kissing up from your calves to your thighs carefully. the tension in the room is heavy, thick with desire and lust. he kisses the inner part of your thigh before moving his lips closer to your clothed pussy. you feel him press a kiss on the fabric before he slides them off to your ankles. his face is hidden under your silk dress, but you don’t need to see him to vision his pretty brown eyes looking up at you. he licks at your dripping cunt, lifting your legs up to rest atop his broad shoulders.

his sharp teeth grazes your sensitive flesh, nipping and kissing your thighs until his bite marks sinks into your skin. he’s sloppy, burying his face deep between your legs, and lapping at your clit repeatedly, drooling all over it and groping at your thighs. he clings onto your figure, suffocating himself with your legs and your pretty pussy. “mhm, mmm..” he hums out. farleigh doesn’t wanna breathe, just wants to continue fucking you with his mouth until he makes a mess out of you. he wants you to feel embarrassed and ashamed of letting him do this to you.

farleigh groans under the dress, his cruel tongue swirling over your swollen clit. you curl your toes, biting down on your bottom lip to hide your lewd sighs. he licks a long stripe down your pussy, savoring your taste on his tongue. you tense up when you feel his tongue seeping inside of you. his soft hands come up to grip your skin, his nails digging into the plush of your soft thighs. “just like that,” you arch your back, gripping onto the blanket for dear life. one of his hands come back down to your pussy, his thumb playing around with your clit. you whine at the sensitivity as you start tearing up. you were pissed at yourself for enjoying this moment so much, farleigh was never going to let this night go. he would use this against you in every argument, maybe even blackmail you with this.

his nose presses up against your pussy as he eats you out like a desperate starved man. “farleigh, please, please let me cum — oh fuck!” you moan loudly when his circular motions on your clit intensifies, causing you to beg and cry for that sweet release you wanted so badly. farleigh continues to flick his tongue deep inside of you, your wetness all over his face. you hear him groaning as you realize you’re reaching your peak. your dripping cunt is throbbing in arousal, your hair is a disheveled mess, your night gown has now completely fallen down your shoulders. you arch your back, feeling the sudden ecstasy run through your body like electricity. you sob when you feel yourself squirting all over farleigh’s face, your body jolting up from the sudden pleasure. you shiver, realizing you’re too weak to get up.

farleigh peaks his head up from under your nightgown, his eyes glued onto your pussy dripping with his saliva and your cum. he has a light playful smirk on his face, not too noticeable in the dim atmosphere in his room. you see his spit and your wetness dripping down his chin. he pulls your legs up to your chest, watching as his fingers slide down the folds of your pussy one last time before licking his hands off. your tears are dried on your face, glossy eyes looking up at his large towering figure. farleigh leans down just inches away from your face. “you still hate me now?” he asks.

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh catton x reader

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

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A Broken Sort of Normal Part 10

WC: 1382, Masterpost CW: past cannon typical violence, past off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death, dissociation

The golden softening of the light across his face woke Danny. Well, it brought him to consciousness. Danny still didn’t feel entirely awake. He felt floaty, like the world was steps away from him. If he tried to wake up, to think to hard, it felt like there was a scream boiling up in his chest.

His breath stuttered.

“It’s okay,” a sleepy voice murmured behind him. The arms wrapped around him tightened in a gentle squeeze.

Danny ran his hand over the arms, trailing down to link his fingers with the hand. He knew that hand, it was Flash’s.

“It’s okay, I have you,” Flash assured him, the words followed up by a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

Danny gave a hum and let himself drift away again.

The next time Danny woke, he was alone and in a bedroom he very much did not recognize. There wasn’t much personality in the room. It was painted in on a soothing blue that the sheets matched. A few pops of yellow brightened the whole color scheme up.

It didn’t give him any clue where he was.

Or why he felt like a bus had hit him.

It took him a few tries to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

He wasn’t even in clothing that he recognized, though the sweat pants and t-shirt fit well enough, if a little long. The pants pooled around his feet, catching under his heels, as he shuffled down the cheerfully green hall.

“Oh! You’re up!”

Danny spun towards the voice. The bright red hair pulled back in a loose pony tail made him ache for Jazz.

“Wally, honey!” She— whoever this was— shouted over her shoulder before she focused back on Danny. “Hi, I bet this is all really weird, isn’t it? You were a little out of it when you arrived so you might not remember much? I’m Iris. I’m the older Flash’s wife and the younger Flash’s aunt.”

Automatically, Danny shook the offered hand. It was warm from the coffee cup she was carrying. “I, Danny, I guess you know that?”

She had a kind smile. “Sure do, W—”

There was a rush of air and there was a guy standing in front of him, watching him with big, concerned eyes. “Babe! You’re awake! Of course when I go and get breakfast you wake up! How are you feeling? Did you rest? Oh right, um, this is Iris but she said I’m sure and she’s my aunt—”

The blur of words cut off when Danny reached up to brush his finger tips over the bridge of Flash’s nose. The freckles did go all the way across.

“Danny? Babe?”

Danny glanced up into pale blue eyes. “I…”

Oh. Right. There had been…

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Flash said. He reached out and wiped away tears.

Danny didn’t even know he had started crying, but now that he was aware he was outright sobbing. His whole body shuddered with it. Carefully, more carefully than Danny thought he deserved, Flash wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

They ended up on the couch. Danny didn’t know how long had passed, it was all a bit of a blur, but when his tears finally dried up and his chest had stopped catching with grief, him and Flash were wrapped up each other on a couch in what was obviously the living room.

“Sorry,” Danny chocked out. He felt gross. His skin was sticky from the dried tears. His nose was running. His throat felt like he had swallowed a desert. Everything still hurt.

“Don’t apologize. You needed to cry. I mean of course you needed to cry. You will again too, I bet, but it’s okay. It will always be okay. Being a hero… it… yeah, there are days like this.”

“I’m not a hero,” Danny said. Insisted.

He wasn’t. If he had still be an hero he could have phased people out of the rubble and saved more of them. He could of contained some of the blasts. He could have fought. He could have—

“Danny, hey, come on babe, breathe, please?” Flash begged, fingers rubbing over Danny’s cheek. “Come on, follow my breathing.”

Flash took exaggerate breaths, making Danny’s whole head rise and fall from where it was buried against Flash’s chest. Slowly the shuddering breaths got back under control and Danny stopped feeling like his whole… everything was breaking apart.

“You still with me?” Flash sounded absolutely wrecked.

And it was Danny’s fault.

“I’m with you,” Danny said, before he felt the need to be truthful and add, “I think.”

“Things feeling a little floaty?” Flash asked, rubbing his hand up and down Danny’s back.

Danny just nodded.

“That’s okay. I’ll be here with you to keep you safe,” Flash promised. “I’m sorry I was away when you woke up. I was just getting some food. Iris was worried about me getting ill if I didn’t.”

“Hummingbird.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Did you eat enough?” Danny really didn’t want Flash worried and sick on top of that because of him.

Flash’s little noise said everything.

“You should eat more.”

“Think you can eat something too? Maybe like oatmeal?” Flash asked.

Danny’s stomach did uneasy little flip, but he could also feel the gnawing hunger on the edge of it all. “I’ll try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Flash said and started to untangle them. “After we can go back to being a mass of limbs here or in my, er, the guest room again.”

“You used to live here?” Danny asked. He still felt more than a little boneless, but even standing Flash didn’t seem to want to let go of him, so Danny let himself be maneuvered as needed.

The kitchen was yellow with white cabinets. The brightness of it all was actually soothing. Iris was leaning against the counter, sipping at her coffee.

Danny felt embarrassed all over again. “Sorry about…”

“It’s nothing, really,” she said with another one of her kind smiles. “It’s not the first time in this house someone needed to have a good cry and it sure won’t be the last. Are you hungry?”

Danny just shrugged as Flash explained, “We’re going to try some oatmeal.”

“I can get that going, you get back to your hash, Wally. I stuck the skillet in the oven to stay warm,” Iris said, setting her mug down.

Danny watched Flash move over to the oven. “Your name is Wally?”

He almost fumbled the cast iron skillet. “I, um, yes? I mean, yes. That’s not a question, I know my name. Well, it’s really, you know, Wallace, but…”

“I like Wally,” Danny said, a little softly, but it had an effect. Flash, Wally really did blush all the way up to his hairline. Despite everything, it made Danny smile slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s… is all this okay?” Danny said with a little wave to the home around him. “I know you probably weren’t planning to tell me…”

Danny’s head shot up as Iris snorted. She finished putting the oatmeal in the microwave before turning around.

“Sorry, it’s just that you haven’t heard Wally for the last few weeks agonizing over if it was too soon to tell you his secret identity. Did it put too much pressure on your relationship to tell you, what if you didn’t want to move as fast, what if it freaked you out? I don’t think him bringing you here was a hard choice at all,” she explained.

“Iris,” Wally whined, hiding his face.

“Barry— the other Flash— and I are both glad he brought you here and you’re allowed to stay as long as you don’t want to be alone,” Iris continued, ignoring her nephew.

Danny didn’t really know what to say to that kindness, so he settled for a bashful ‘thank you’.

“Besides, I’ve got baby pictures and stories of Wally first trying to figure out his powers—”

“Aunt Iris! No,” Wally squeaked.

Danny’s laughter was as surprising to him as the others, but there in the bright yellow kitchen with people who seemed to care… it was easier to laugh than Danny thought it would be. Maybe it would be alright.

-----

AN: He may have been having a terrible time, but things will get better! (Shhhh ignore how this whole fic started. You don't remember that.) And now he knows a bit more about how much skin Wally's freckles cover~

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the Masterpost!

#dp x dc #quick death ship #quick death #danny fenton/wally west #abson

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soullumii · 1 year

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masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock.

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back.

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same.

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them.

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of.

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time.

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength.

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest.

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both.

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask.

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.”

“What look?”

“The sex look.”

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.”

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.”

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?"

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly.

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says.

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.”

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.”

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.”

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.”��

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?”

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you.

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs.

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans.

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand.

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins.

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper.

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs.

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age.

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan.

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh.

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.”

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan.

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map.

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs.

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.”

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly.

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.”

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.”

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.”

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down.

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness.

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you.

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife.

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much.

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?”

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do.

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips.

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.”

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release.

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo joel miller

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manicplank · 3 months

Text

BEACH HEADCANONS!!!

Peppino: Beach bum. Sits in the sun and has a tropical drink of some sort. Pretends he's on vacation far away. Doesn't like to get wet. Thinks beach water is gross.

Gustavo: Loves the beach. Thinks it's very peaceful, even when there's tons of people. Might get his feet wet, but doesn't go swimming. Usually brings a book and reads the entire thing.

Mr. Stick: Brings his chair and drinks something fancy or tropical. Doesn't want to get full of sand despite being on the beach. Doesn't get wet at all. Might bring a book or do tax fraud. Or both. Kind of a buzz kill.

Pepperman: Thinks the beach is beautiful, but doesn't like the sun or the heat very much. He burns up and dries out too easily. Usually doesn't go, but if he does, he's building something (a statue of himself) in the sand.

The Vigilante: Doesn't like the beach. AT ALL. He hates getting too sandy, he doesn't care much for water. Overall, just not a fan of the beach.

The Noise: LOVES THE BEACH! Once he's at the beach, you have to drag him home. He is not leaving. He brings a floaty and a snorkel. He isn't the best at swimming (and is sort of afraid of drowning), but he still likes to do it. Will occasionally surf. Loves laying in the sun and getting tan. Likes playing in the sand. He's like a damn toddler.

Noisette: Same as Noise, but she gets sunburned too easily, so she brings a big umbrella to stay under for a bit. She loves riding the waves with a floaty. She always wears the cutest bikini. She likes bringing snacks, too. Builds sand castles with Noise. Might bury him in the sand so she doesn't have to deal with him for a bit.

Fake Peppino: Has never been to the beach, but would absolutely LOVE it. He would love swimming in the cool water, he would love basking in the hot sand. He would look for fish (but never see any). He would have a blast.

Pizzahead: Has a love/hate relationship with the beach. While he loves the warmth, sometimes it can be too much, and he starts to melt. Despite this, he loves going out and showing off his bikini (one of many in his collection). He will only go in the water if it's relatively warm.

Pillar John: LOVES the beach. Loves the hot sand. Loves the warmth of the sun against him. Likes to heat up in the sun then cool down in the water. He would love to try surfing, but he's unfortunately too heavy. Brings lots of snacks. Might grab some food at the concessions stand, too.

Gerome: Likes the beach, but wishes it wasn't so messy. He likes the warmth of the sand and sun, but isn't the biggest fan of the water. Might go there just to clear his mind and watch the waves.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #pizzahead #the vigilante #fake peppino #pepperman #pillar john #mr. stick #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

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hotluncheddie · 7 months

Text

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 3.3k | cw: alcohol, weed | rated: E | part: 2/2 | tags: pre/post s4 au, handjob, hurt/comfort, raised catholic steve harrington

part 1 | ao3

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00:20 January 4th: Basement

It’s nice, Steve thinks, down here in the basement. Where theres a hazy cloud of smoke from a group in the other corner, cigarettes and weed mixing. Where Steve can relax, let his mind wander to how it smells the same down here as Eddie’s hair had when he leaned towards him on the staircase.

His mind floats there. In the pews, thinking about Eddie. It makes Steve’s knees itch.

He slipped down to the basement because he had to. Too many people up there with solid plans of how to get out. Too many who already made it, visiting Hawkins like a novelty, a little trip to some place you can associate with the past, separate from the present.

They kept trying to draw him in, upstairs, wanted to get to know the guy with the good aim. Some of them don’t even know about King Steve. He’s just some guy, too some, up there. Steve doesn’t know what’s worse.

It all made Steve start to fidget, uncomfortable. He doesn’t have a plan to get out, doesn’t think he could even if he did. Hawkins isn’t a novelty, not to Steve, it holds his leash. He knows he’s tethered to the place, anxious and afraid to step too far over the thresholds. Knows it’s a little pathetic. But he can’t escape the fear that it’ll all fall apart, crack open and gape and he’ll be locked out. Fail those people who he can’t. Loose the barely there grasp he has on their attention already.

But, even in the muddy swamp of his thoughts, he’s enjoying his spot in the corner, on an empty sofa.

He’s definitely feeling the beers now, feels floaty and heavy at the same time. But he also downed a cup of water before sneaking away. So, it’s not taken him too far, not lowered his inhibitions enough to remind him of flower faces and underground fortresses.

It’s more, just, suburban wallowing. A familiar tipsy sort of buzz. A burning in the back of his throat as his brain jumps from brown eyes to varsity hoodies and back to long dark curls.

He does the breathing exercise a nurse taught him. Breaths in, holds it, breaths out, sinks into the couch.

He’s okay. Robins okay. She’s having fun. He’s here and it’s okay.

‘What was that about not liking attention Stevie, hm?’ Eddie asks as he sits down next to him, handing over a plastic cup and knocking their knees together.

Steve starts, tries not to show how his heart rates gone up. How Eddie’s fingers brushing his own makes his blood fizz. ‘What’s this?’ He asks, clearing his throat, blinking to clear his head.

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, all drama and mischief. ‘Eggnog.’ Then he taps his nose. ‘Special eggnog.’

Steve raises his, takes a sniff. He almost asks Eddie why he’s down here but that would be stupid, and make Eddie leave. He’s not drunk enough to do the first and, also not drunk enough to admit how his chest caves in a little at the thought of the second. ‘Where’d you even get this?’ He settles on.

‘Fridge. Said it goes off tomorrow so, figured I’m kinda doing them a favour.’ Eddie smiles. He speaks so easily, deep and lilting and musical, drawing Steve in with every breath.

Steve shifts on the couch. Lets their knees touch, slide together. It’s heady, and viscose, like swimming through stained glass. Steve wants more. Steve decided to take, wants to take. Can kneel and see what he gets given. Smooth wooden pews. A basement at a party.

Steve downs some, it’s sickly. It’s strong. That buzz seems to double.

He steps into the robes of who he used to be, who kissed Nancy in the girls bathroom. Who’d whisper in girls ears at parties, make them moan. Blow a kiss up at the stands at baseball games. Did it all, like it was nothing.

He sucks air in through his teeth, wincing at the taste. ‘This is gross Munson.’ he says, laughing. He reaches over and pours the rest of his cup into Eddie’s, pushing their shoulders together and feeling the heat radiating off of Eddie’s bare neck. ‘Plus, if I drink any more my dick won’t work.’ He doesn’t think, just says, low and murmured.

The rosary beads are back, circling his throat, Steve thinks he likes the way they bite.

‘Is that so?’ Eddie ask, smile obvious in his voice, gleeful and surprised. Speaking almost in Steve’s ear.

‘Yup.’ Steve turns his head fully to the side, so close to Eddie’s face. Lets his eyelids droop, licks his lips. ‘What about you, King Freak, that never happen to you?’ He’s pushing, treading from shallows into deep muddy depths.

‘Do not fucking call me that dude.’ Eddie shoves him lightly, the way girls used to, push just so they can pull him back in. ‘But yeah, obviously I do know, it’s science man.’

Steve slouches back next to Eddie on the sofa. Still close, still sharing body heat. ‘Dude, man, what’s up with that, bro?’ Steve teases, set alight.

‘What’s up with that, bro?’ Eddie slides a hand down his face with a groan. But Steve can see he’s fighting a smile, hiding it behind his palm. Eddie’s rings glint in the lamplight.

Steve thinks he could get used to this, being so close to Eddie. Watching his face split in half with his grin. Wide open, pink and white. Steve wants to taste.

Eddie looks at him, incredulous, but his eyes are sparkling. ‘For a smart guy, you’re kinda dumb when you drink.’

Steve smirks, but something in him feels porcelain and breakable. ‘Dunno how I fooled ya into thinking ‘m smart. But ok.’ He says, smirk falling, he swallows, remembers again who he is, who he is now.

‘Well you’re the only person on this sofa with a diploma.’ Eddie says, something hard in his eyes, but eggshell thin.

‘Technicalities.’ Steve moves in closer again. As if reaching out.

Steve sees it now, they’re hard-soft. Church wafers before the spit. So similar in their differences. And Eddie knows.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He stands slightly to pull at the legs of his jeans and put his cup on the floor. When he sits back down Steve notes that they’re definitely closer than before. Hip too hip, shoulder to shoulder. He can feel Eddies bony elbow and the muscle on his thigh, weed-cigarette filling his nose, along with something warm, something Eddie. His eyelashes are long and thick. Steve swallows. Fiddles with his empty cup.

‘Your question before, about attention?’ Steve starts, shifts so he can look up at Eddie’s profile better, take in the line of his nose. ‘I still like it, attention. Just, only when it’s from, certain people.’ And Eddie turns to look at Steve, eyes a little guarded, but Steve takes a chance, glancing at eddies mouth, for just a second, licks his lips. Watches as eddies lips curl up at the corners.

Eddie stands and Steve feels sticky, hot and cold. But Eddie turns towards him, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a perfectly rolled joint.

‘You wanna come outside? Help me smoke this?’ Eddie asks.

Steve looks at it, looks up at Eddie. ‘No.’ Steve looks at Eddie’s handcuff belt buckle. ‘But I’ll come outside with you.’

Steve looks back up through his eyelashes and Eddies eyes are hungry.

00:59 January 4th: Eddies Van

‘Shut. Up. Harrington.’ Eddie says into Steves lips, tugs at the back of his hair and Steve feels his eyes roll back on a moan.

Nancy used to do that to him sometimes. He doesn’t want to think about Nancy. Eddies hands are bigger, stronger. Nancy seemed to get flighty if Steve ever let go too much, unmoored and untethered, she didn’t like to swim in the deep end.

They’re in the back of Eddie’s van, Steve leaning against the side, legs sprawled out in front of him, Eddie in his lap.

He can just hear the the music coming from the house still, its muffled but, they’re not that far, Eddie’s right, Steve supposes.

He also doesn’t really care. He just wants. Smells varnished wood, and incense.

‘Make me.’ He goads and his insides light up at the dark fire enveloping Eddie’s eyes.

‘I knew you’d be dangerous.’ Eddie murmurs to himself.

Steve desperately wants to know what the fuck that means. But Eddie just stubs his blunt out and pinches the end to save it for later. ‘Hold this’ he taps it against Steve’s bottom lip and Steve opens immediately. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, taste Eddie on them. ‘Don’t let it fall, okay Stevie?’

Steve nods, rock hard. An intense, soul crushing need to be good has him clamping his lips tightly around the joint, ear ringing.

The clack of his belt being undone makes Steve close his eyes and breathe deep through his nose. Eddie palms Steve’s cock over his jeans, eyes hooded and dark.

Eddies nimble fingers go for his fly, he lifts one of Steve hands to rest on his shoulder. Gets his cock out of his boxers so fast Steve feels himself sink, the van melting away until it’s just Eddie. Just Eddie in his lap and the smell of smoke and ash. Steve holds on for dear life.

He lets his other hand come to Eddie’s hip, thumb stroking where his t-shirt sits at his waistband, dipping to feel skin. Eddie’s hand on his cock is making him feel desperate, but he doesn’t make a noise, just feels his eyes wet.

‘That’s it, staying so quiet, take what you need.’ And Steve’s lets his hand roam. He wants to feel, touch skin. He strokes Eddie’s neck, fingers trailing over his torso, searching up under his shirt. Slips his hand around to Eddie’s back pocket and squeezes. Eyes rolling in his head again over Eddie’s lean lines, his sharp edges and soft parts. The hand twisting his dick so perfectly. He’s not gonna last.

He opens his eyes again and Eddie’s bore into him. Dark and big and eating him whole. His mouth is open, slack, relishing in taking Steve apart. Steve whines weakly in his throat, Eddie’s hand comes up and grabs that handful of hair again, tugging once.

Steve tips over the edge, spilling into Eddie’s hand. Shuddering through his orgasm with a muffled groan, his hands still squeezing what they can reach of Eddie. One hand under his t-shirt, fingers in ribs, Steve wants to crack Eddie open, reach inside.

Eddie tucks him back in his boxers. Takes the joint from his lips and places it behind his ear. Steve’s breathing still not back to normal but he leans in for another kiss. Needs to feel tongue and heat and know that this is really real. Really happening.

That it’s not Steve of ’84 or ’85, that he made it to ’86. That he survived, that he didn’t nail himself on a cross and leave the rest up to fate. That he chose, he offered and took.

Eddie kisses back holding his jaw with a clean hand and sucking on Steve’s lower lip. Steve goes for Eddie’s fly but his mouth gets pulled off, Eddie pinching him at the chin.

‘S’all good sweet thing. Can’t cum when I’m crossfaded, mind gets all muddled and I can’t focus enough.’ And he says it with a smile, like it’s no big deal, just a fact. Steve feels his insides churn with need.

He needs to repay the favour. That’s how, how he can show it. Show how he needs, how he wants. How his hearts is just begging to be ripped out, bloody and still beating. And he can give that over, he can. He wants to.

Eddie pecks his lips again and moves off of Steve’s lap, tossing the hanky into a corner.

‘I gotta find Rob first but, uh, you wanna come to mine? Hang out? My parents aren’t home.’ Steve asks, maybe he can still fix this, keep it. His voice is higher than normal, still breathy. He clears his throat, swallows, tries to feel the van under his feet.

Eddie’s settles across from him, holding his lighter. He looks over with a little lazy smile. ‘Ah, sorry toots, that’s a little too close to romance for me.’

Steve tries not to let his cracks show, but he knows his valleys can open, sometimes the maw in his chest can’t be close quick enough. ‘What’s wrong with romance?’ He asks, his bandaged up heart lodged in his throat.

‘Just not something I do, it’s no stress, I’ll just see you around Harrington, yeah?’ And it’s so casual. So final.

Steve swallows and nods and checks his fly is done and slips out the back door. Hopes his cracks weren’t too blatant, too ugly.

He aches. He needs to confess.

6:15 July 15th: Hawkins General, Room 136

Eddie was finally healing. His blood had been drawn and his skin had been grafted, he’d taken his meds and even attended a couple government mandated therapy sessions.

He’d admitted in them that yeah, he didn’t trust easy. But no one other than Wayne had shown him they cared with such consistent acts of kindness. Everyone else left him in the dirt. So no, he doesn’t trust easy.

They’d said you have to give people a chance to be kind to you, and if they do fuck up you’re always within your power to leave. But that sometimes kindness goes both ways.

Eddie knew that. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying.

Even more terrifying because Eddie had a face for the kindness. A place he aches to send his own, packaged and pretty and waiting to be unwrapped.

See, Steve Harrington was kind. Steve Harrington gave Eddie some of his blood, he’d helped the nurses change his bandages once or twice when the staff numbers were too sparse during a shift. Filled his water cup and cut his ugly but actually pretty good hospital meatloaf for him.

He’d kept Eddie squeaky clean, no chance of being kicked in the dirt, left dead in a ditch, whatever metaphors works best.

Steve was good. Eddie knew it. He did. But that doesn’t mean he’s not scared.

Because Eddie wanted to be kind back. He hoped holding Steve’s hand though getting his blood drawn, and letting him nap half curled on Eddie’s bed were enough for now. To let Steve see. See that he always wants to stroke his hair if a nightmare hits, not just when they’re fresh from hell. That he always wants to hold his hand, not just when there’s needles involved.

It’s actually, like, all the time that he wants to hold it, it’s really bad. Terminal.

The first time Steve filled his water unprompted Eddie honestly thought he heard a church bell ring, like, how can someone be so good?

And, even worse maybe, is that Steve Harrington was also a dork.

A genuinely silly guy. Cracking jokes unprompted just to get someone to laugh, someone to groan which makes someone else laugh. And he sits amongst it, this happy little chaos he’s created, and he beams.

Eddie thinks about it sometimes. That night in his van, at that random house party he can’t remember. He only remembers Steve, where Steve was, what he was doing, how he looked. Eddie thinks about that.

Thinks about his face when Eddie said he couldn’t hang out, how he seemed to masking tape himself back together, disappointed and fragile. But Eddie just couldn’t take anything further. Couldn’t risk letting Steve see him.

Sometimes Steve follows Wayne to the hospital chapel. He doesn’t ask, but he wants to. Wants to know who Steve prays to, what about, why his knuckles are still bruised when most of his other injuries are healing. Why he never talks about his parents. Why he hates the colour red. Where he goes when he zoned out and his whole face mangles into a frown, into an aching maw, Eddie wants to know, if just to help a little, ease his pain.

Eddie thinks about Steve, as he knew him and as he knows him now. About people being kind, about a therapist saying it goes both ways. And Eddie thinks he wants to be brave.

For Steve Harrington, Eddie can be brave.

‘Look what I snuck in for you today, fit for a king, no?’ Steve slips two Yoo Hoo’s from the inside of his jacket. Coming to sit in the plastic chair by Eddie’s bedside.

(Covered in crochet blankets that Robin brought over the moment she clocked that Steve fell asleep here sometimes. Steve likes to stick his fingers through the holes while they watch tv. Eddie likes to watch Steve’s fingers.)

He looks tired, Steve, deep purple stains under his eyes. But Robin said he’s brighter when he’s here, knowing Eddie and Max are alive, getting to see them. She said it was like he forgets when he’s not here, ghosts clouding his vision. Maybe it’s just more distracting here. Eddie doesn’t know. He just knows Steve’s here now. That he brought him chocolate milk and that he’s smiling.

Eddie holds the drink up to the light with two hands, opening his eyes wide, like it’s something holy. ‘Ah, the stuff of angels.’

Steve snorts and reaches up to open it for him. Eddie’s heart clenches.

Steve is kind, and good and brave. Eddie can try and be half that, for Steve.

He takes a sip, watching Steve do the same. ‘This kinda reminds me of eggnog.’ He muses, heart rate picking up.

‘I’m not putting whisky in it Eddie, Wayne would skin me alive.’ Steve says, flat. Beaming when Eddie snorts. He’s so wide open, so eager, and bright.

‘I know that.’ Eddie says. ‘Just, I guess it’s you then, reminding me, of eggnog.’ He tries, hiding behind his riddles.

Steve looks confused, glancing between their drinks and Eddie’s face.

He needs to spell it out, Steve deserves his plain honesty, Eddie takes a deep breath.

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Eddie starts.

‘Dangerous’

‘Shhh!’ Eddie fights down a grin. This is serious. He, ugh.

‘I’ve been thinking about uh, changing opinions’ Eddie tries again, folding his hands in his lap and squeezing the pads of his fingers with his nails.

‘Oh yeah?’ Steve’s still wide open, still pleased and bright.

‘Yeah, first is that maybe, ah, maybe I do want to try romance. Now, actually.’ Eddie forces. Holding his breath.

Something flickers across Steve’s eyes. half hopeful, half guarded. He turns his head, but his eyes stay trained on Eddie.

Eddie flounders, for a second. Aware suddenly of where they are, how this is maybe not the most romantic place to talk about it. Them. But, Eddie also doesn’t want to wait any longer. He’ll be able to leave soon, he just, he wants. Needs Steve to know, before everything changes again, while he’s between worlds and mostly healed and Steve it here. Steve was smiling.

‘Maybe I’ve found someone who, who deserves it.’ Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘Who I couldn’t be there for before, but I want to be here for now.’

Steves eyes soften ‘Oh.’ he whispers, fighting down a smile, looking down at his lap. He fidgets, pulls at his jacket, takes another swig of his drink.

He moves his chair closer to Eddie. Won’t look him in the eyes but he grabs Eddie’s hand that’s sitting on top of the bedsheet, linking their fingers together.

‘Wheel of Fortune’s almost on’ Steve’s says, looking ahead, still not letting his smile fully bloom. He’s squinting. It’s ridiculous.

Eddie grins. ‘Yeah, right right, of course’ He squeezes Steve’s hand and grabs the remote. Vows to not let go unless he has to, vows to keep Steve safe, help his bruises heal. Show him romance and kindness and love.

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. it’s finished! ty again for organising!!!

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

Also tagging: @museumgiftshoperaser @kas-eddie-munson @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @i-amthepizzaman @estrellami-1

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

#it’s finished <3 #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #my fic #pre s4 au #catholic steve harrington #<3

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yoitsjay · 3 months

Note

Thank you so much for posting the list of who you do write for! I apologize if it was posted elsewhere and I didn't see.

I'll go ahead switch the request from Commander Fox to FTM Trans reader x Din Djarin/The Mandalorian smut.

Have an amazing day, and also have some flowers. 🌺💐🌹🌻🌷

It's no problem at all! All characters I write for are in my masterlist which is pinned at the top of my blog :] thanks for the request!

Di'kut (MDNI 18+)

Pairings: Din Djarin x FtM trans! Reader

Summary: while on a mission, tension grows and you trip in a bed of sex pollen. Din, unaware that you were not a man before, helps you out, and is in for a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: smut, unprotected (p in v) no bottom surgery, din is sweet at first, rough sex, manhandling, cunnalingus, sex pollen, oral, sweet aftercare

Word count: 3,184

You met Din Djarin through some ‘connections’ the both of you shared, aka Fennec Shan, who was a good friend of your mothers for the most part and started teaching you how to get into the art of bounty hunting. She was good at what she did so with her training you started getting good too. So one day you were getting desperate for credits, and this was after your mother had died so you had a bit more freedom on what you wanted to do with your body.

When your mother was alive you stole credits from her and saved up to afford a surgery you then snuck off planet to get, and it was a success and now you had a deeper voice and no boobs. YAY! You liked boobs… just not on you.

But since your mother was dead and you had no way to steal any of her credits (which is what killed her when she found out) you reached out to Fennec, and asked for a job that paid well. So that led you to now, and you had been happily working alongside The Mandalorian, Din Djarin for a few months on quite an array of jobs.

He had a weird little green child which you had to swear to also protect, but you didn’t mind, the green thing seemed to like you as much as you seemed to like it. Plus you gave it treats when Din wasn’t looking.

Every job you worked you split the credits earned, and instead of spending yours, minus when you bought your own rations or ship fuel, you had saved it all in a little safe compartment you had built into your ship.

When you met Din, his new ship was way too tiny to fit two people, plus he had the green thing in the back, who’s name you learned was grogu, so you started calling him that now. But regardless his ship wasn’t big enough so you stole your mom’s old instead.

But regardless his ship wasn't big enough for two people plus Grogu so you took an equivalent of a cab to your home planet and you found your mom's old ship, which was a small attack shuttle. You fixed it up easy enough and managed to get it up in the air and back to Tatooine to get some better repairs from Motto.

And soon you and Din were up in the air and headed to your next location that Din had the bounty for, courtesy of Fennec Shand. “So where are we headed exactly?” You questioned through the comms you and Din had established. “It's a forested planet, Fennec said the bounty there had built a hut in the middle of the dense swamp area but there are no places to land close enough, so there's gonna be a bit of a walk.” Din explained

You huffed, forestry planets were not really your thing despite having grown up on Felucia. It was always so hot and humid on those planets, so you tried to avoid them to the best of your ability…But this was the last mission you needed in order to get your final surgery. “Pulling out of Hyperspace'' Din announced, and you readied your ship, pulling out of hyperspace when Din did, following him down to the landing zone that he had found.

The area around was heavily forested with a swampy ground, which was gross and you could already smell it which made this experience a whole lot worse. You armed yourself and made sure all your weapons were loaded before you met up with Din and Grogu outside, who was safe in his floating bed. “Little bastard.” You muttered, and Grogu just cooed at you. “Ready?” Din asked, and you nodded, walking beside him as he led you through the forest with the tracking fob.

You couldn’t really remember how long you and Din were exactly walking for, but when the marshlands started getting deeper and you started wading through thick swamp water you knew that you were getting close.

The bounty target was not smart, that you knew for sure. He had obvious traps that you and Din easily disarmed, and when you got to the bounty he screamed and froze so you tied him up and handed him off to Din, who had the bounty tossed over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

The action made you blush a bit, but you and Din continued walking all the way back to your ship, taking a shortcut this time now that you understood the terrain a bit better… But as you and Din walked, you noticed some pretty exotic looking flowers and plants starting to surround you, pollen floating around in the air. “Hey din, you go on ahead and put the bounty in my ship lockup… I wanna examine these plants.” You told him.

Din tilted his head to the side, hesitating before nodding and walking off with the bounty, bringing him back to your ship to put him in lockup like you said.

In the meantime you had started taking pictures of the plants with your datapad, analyzing them for your planetary databank. You walked away from a group of red and white flowers, not watching where you were stepping as your foot was caught on a root that was in the swamp water, and you let out a surprised yelp as the datapad flew out of your hands, landing on a bit of dry land while you had landed in a bed of heavy pollinated flowers.

It was all over your face and body, probably up your nose too because when you breathed in you sneezed, and started coughing. Your clothes were now soaked too, yippe fucking do.

You slowly pushed yourself up, wiping the pollen from your face with a grunt. You looked around, smiling when you saw your data pad unharmed. You went to stand up, but a burning feeling shot up your spine, and you fell back down to your knees, a sharp mewl falling from your mouth as the unwanted body part between your legs burned with what felt like the power of the sun. It hurt, but that familiar feeling of arousal made you ache more.

You crawled towards your data pad, small whimpers escaping your lips upon every move you made. You eventually reached the datapad, grabbing it and clutching it to your chest as you quickly tried to identify the pollen that was affecting you.

Your vision started to get blurry even as you tried to blink it away. “Fuck-” You whined out, watching as your datapad scanned the pollen and began analyzing… and the results that came back made you gasp, as well as the throbbing feeling between your legs.

“Shit-” you cursed, sex pollen was not something you wanted to encounter today, knowing that the only cure was sex, hence the name sex pollen. “Di’kut-” You cursed at yourself, curling your body into a fetal position, hoping it would relieve some of the pain and aches you were experiencing.

Just then you heard your com going off, a loud groan falling from your ;ips as you struggled to grab it from your belt. It was Din, that much was obvious.. but what on earth were you going to say to him? “Hey din guess what! i landed in a bat of sex pollen can you come fuck me so i can feel better?”

No! That was not what you were going to say.

You pressed the button on your com, biting down a desperate little whine, panting out what you needed to say. “Din i-i mph- i fell into some- so- hnng- trouble… i need your help, please” You bit down on your tongue to prevent a moan from escaping your lips, as one of your hands had miraculously found its way between your thighs, and started to try and relieve the throbbing pain that was coursing through your body.

“I’m on my way, hang tight Y/n” Din replied, and you let your com slip from your hands. “Fuckfuck- fuck!” You grunted, trying to remove your hand from between your legs but it wouldn’t budge- at least your body wouldn’t let it budge.

“Y/n? where are you?” You heard Din’s voice, deep.. sultry and gravelly… You couldn’t stop the whine this time, and he managed to hear it, rounding in on your location before he paused, seeing your hands between your legs, the wet spot growing larger the more you provided friction.

You were sweating, significantly more than you should have been. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but when you opened them you stared right at them, a glossy sheen reflected across your eyes, your pupils blown wide thanks to the pollen that was affecting you.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” He muttered, and went to grab you, but you moved away, and instead grabbed his arm and pulled him on the ground with you, before climbing on top of him. You were heaving, and trying so hard to snap out of the haze you were in, and you managed to do so, for a brief moment.

“Se-sex pollen… i fell- in-into sex- fuck! pollen.” You groaned, pressing your face into the cold metal of his chestplate, trying to relieve the heat in your face. “Shit.” Din cursed, and you could only groan in agreement.

The Mandalorian wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up as he got to his knees, and then to his feet, carrying you bridal style. “I’ll take you back to your ship, and we can deal with this together.” He muttered.

You didn;t know what he meant, but every time he took one step forward a soft whine, or a light moan left your lips, and you couldn’t tell, but he was starting to get aroused, hearing every little noise you made.

You reached your ship soon enough, and Din brought you to your small bunk room, laying you down on the bed as he stared for a moment as you writhed and tried to relieve yourself through your clothes.

He inhaled through his nose, and slowly started removing pieces of his armor until nothing but his helmet was left, and his underclothes which consisted of a thicker pair of light black trousers, and a long sleeved black tunic. Din took a step closer to you, but you didn’t look up, instead your face was buried into your pillows, muttering unintelligible words mixed in with moans.

Din gently cupped your face in his gloved hands, and you looked up into his visor, but to him you were looking directly into his eyes. “hey- hey… I'm going to undress you, okay?” He asked, and in your haze, you muttered a soft yes. You could say no anytime you wanted, but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, and you didn’t want to be in pain longer than you needed to be.

DIn was swift in removing your clothes, like he had done it hundreds of times before, and he probably has. But you trusted him, trusted him not to stick his dick inside you unless he was clean… Another thing you failed to mention to him was the fact that you were not biologically a male.

So when your pants and underwear were off and he came face to- well, vagina. He was a little surprised. “Your-”

“Trans-” You grunted out, gripping the sheets of your bed as you let your legs hang open in front of him, panting heavily. “I was- mph- saving up for surgery… this was the last job i needed.” You muttered through your haze. Din nodded, he didn’t judge, you were a fun person, you made him laugh, and smile even though you couldn’t see it.

“Can i-”

“yes! yes- please.” You whimpered. It's not like you haven't had sex before with that certain body part, and if it helped you, you were all for it. Of course anal was something you also enjoyed… for obvious reasons… probably.

You let your eyes fall closed while Din removed some articles of clothing. He removed his shirt, and undid the buckle of his pants before unbuttoning them too, before he paused. “Im- i’m gunna blindfold you.”He muttered, and you simply nodded, taking one last look at him before he took a piece of fabric and gently wrapped it around your eyes.

You heard a thunk not long after, and you assumed it was his helmet that he dropped to the floor.

You jolted when you felt his hand slide up your thigh before resting on your hip, jolting again when his second hand went in between your thighs to replace your hand. A groan fell from your lips upon contact, followed by a string of moans as he began circling your engorged clit with two fingers. Everything was heightened for you but even then he knew what he was doing…

Then he pulled his hand back, and a desperate whine fell from your lips, followed by a gasp as he grabbed your waist and flipped you around so you were on your hands and knees in front of him. “Din- what-”

You choked when you felt something wet press into your folds, and his fingers returned to your clit but this time you felt the sensation of skin, instead of fabric. Din was eating you out, licking and sucking up all the juices you created. You could already feel your orgasm building up in your gut, and Din could tell as your moans got louder, and more constant.

He was slow and articulate with his actions, not speeding up or doing anything to change what he was doing because he knew it would make you cum. And he was right as one loud moan left your lips, followed by a string of curses. He pulled his head back, and you could sense the grin on his face.

Your haze had lifted slightly with your first orgasm, but you knew you still had a ways to go… But you could think a little clearer, and it was nice to be able to form more coherent sentences.

“Fuck me.” You grumbled, turning to lay on your back, spreading your legs wide as if to entice him. “What was that cyare?” he asked you, teasing bastard.

“i said fuck me, Di’kut” You growled. Yes Din taught you mando’a, and it was fun to use, since you only called him an idiot every point of the day. “alright alright.” Din chuckled, his unmodified voice sent shivers down your spine, and straight to your core.

You let yourself relax, feeling the bed shift as Din’s weight was added to it. You felt his hands on your legs, a squeak leaving your lips when he pulled you down to him, your hips slotting against his almost perfectly. You felt his cock pressed between you, and you could tell that it was large, average in length, but thick.

perfect.

“You're clean?” You asked him, and he nodded, before realizing that he had blindfolded you so you couldn’t see. “Yes, I'm clean.” He replied, and took his cock into his hands, gliding the tip through your soaking wet folds before he pressed the tip to your awaiting entrance.

“Go ahead.” You muttered, and Din slowly pushed inside you. At first the stretch hurt, but the pollen kicked in and all that pain turned into overwhelming pleasure as he pushed inside of you, inch by inch until his hips were against yours.

You panted, and so did he as he allowed you a few moments to adjust and get comfortable before he slid out. You braced yourself, reaching up to his shoulders, feeling his broad and toned shoulders with your hands. And when he slammed into you your grip immediately tightened.

he was fucking you like- well you couldn’t even describe it. His style- the way he moved and pleased you was unlike anything you’ve felt before. He was rough, and dominant and yet all the same his touches were so gentle as he leaned forward and kissed up your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin on your jaw and collarbone, probably leaving marks all over your skin.

You moaned his name, repeatedly and it just stirred him on. He had one of your legs lifted up on his shoulder while the other he had wrapped around his hip. You started to get close again, and you tightened around his cock, hearing his own soft grunts and moans at the feeling.

“Din-” You choked out, digging your nails into the skin of his back and shoulders. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, huffing against your skin which sent more shivers down your spine. “I know… cum for me Mesh’la.” He grunted. And you did, like he commanded you too.

Another orgasm shot through you like a pod racer, and you whined and moaned his name, sliding one of your hands up to his hair, gripping it tightly, to which he moaned your name in response. So you did it again, and his thrusts got harder, and sloppier and you knew he was starting to get close too.

“Not inside.” You murmured, feeling him nod against your skin. He thrusted inside you a few more times before pulling out, and instead he replaced his cock with his fingers, rubbing his thumb against your clit while pumping his fingers inside of you. And just as he painted your stomach and chest with his cum, he brought you to yet another orgasm.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and leaned back to admire the mess that he had created. He smiled, and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before getting off the bed. You laid there, unmoving as the effects of the pollen subsided, and you felt normal… well as normal as you could have been for just getting the daylights fucked out of you.

Din returned moments later with a damp cloth, and he gently cleaned the area between your thighs, followed by wiping his cum off your body. And as soon as his helmet was back on, your blindfold was removed, however at this point your eyes were still closed, and… you were snoring?

Din chuckled, cupping your cheek gently as he admired you, before dressing you in your underclothes, pulling on his own afterwards. Din was about to leave the room, but you had stirred, and watched as he turned to leave.

“wait-” you called out, watching as he turned to look at you. “We should do this again… after my surgery… and uh- without the pollen.” You chuckled, seeing the man tilt his head before he nodded.

“I’d like that… get some rest, i'll fly us back. My ship’s already docked on yours.” He explained, leaving to go start up your ship.

You smiled, and pulled your blankets over your body, chuckling to yourself. Who knew all it took was a little bit of pollen…

➺

Tag list:

Din djarin tag:

#fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x FtM!reader #din djarin x male reader #trans male #star wars #star wars the mandalorian

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divine-misfortune · 8 months

Note

Hello! For the smut prompts:

“I need to be inside you/you to be inside me“

„In the bath“

With Dewther please?

So....I got....Carried away. This is 2.2k words of Dewther being gross and in love and also really fucking horny about finally being together again.

Mild cw for talk of knotting and the slightest mention of cumflation towards the end, and a bit of weirdly possessive Aether for spice.

Read on ao3 or below!

The atmosphere in the bathroom was heavy, made thick by the rich scents of lavender and geranium. It made his lungs feel warm. Each breath was close to intoxicating, something floral and sweet mingling with the familiar spice that was so unapologetically Dewdrop. To say it was going to his head would be an understatement, almost high off the air of intimacy alone.

Aether drew in another greedy, full-bodied breath and the little ghoul plastered against his chest stirred. Dew's tail draped over the edge of the tub flicked with a minor annoyance and he carefully wrapped both arms around his midsection, kissing the top of his head with a sympathetic sound.

Safe in the quintessence ghoul's strong embrace Dew mirrored his sigh. Content, finally.

Months of travel took its toll, Aether knew that and couldn't say he missed that part of touring. Too small bunks on a swaying tour bus, lumpy hotel beds with starchy sheets, the entire god awful experience of airports and airplanes in general - Hell, in short. Dew had always struggled with the inconsistent and uncomfortable travel, Aether's own absence surely only added to the distress. The fire ghoul hadn't let him out of arm's reach since they'd reunited that morning. Not that he was complaining, or that he himself hadn’t been equally as bad.

Clingy was one word to describe his behavior but territorial was a better, more accurate one.

He drew Dew closer, as much closer as he could manage which wasn't much. Bare skin to bare skin, back to chest, the only thing between them was the literal atoms that made them but even that wasn't close enough for Aether. It was almost enough to ease irksome yearning trying to carve itself into his bones. All those months without his pack - without Dew - had started to physically hurt and he never wanted to let him go now that they were together again. The idea was sort of nauseating.

But he tucked Dew's hair behind his ear. A gesture to prove this moment real, an act of tenderness that was as self serving as it was self soothing. Dew chirped curiously, soft enough Aether suspected he had started to nod off.

“You still with me droplet?”

“Mm…” He nods, or tries to. It proves to be too much effort for him to commit to, “haven't gone anywhere.”

There’s a sleepy, floaty quality about his voice that just about makes his heart flutter.

Aether chuffed out a laugh against his neck and Dew's ear twitched as he tried to shy away from the ticklish breath. He settled quickly though. All it took was Aether petting the flat of his hand over his belly, drawing another shallow sigh out of him. Content as he should be, as he deserved to be.

“Missed you y'know,” he mumbled into the curve of his shoulder, against the warmth of his skin. It wasn't the first time he'd said it since their reunion and it certainly wouldn't be the last but the words carried the same weight. He hoped they'd stick and linger on Dew with all the permanency of scar tissue.

“Course you missed your favorite fire ghoul.”

“Ifrit didn't go anywhere though.”

“Wh-” Dew’s tail slapped against the surface of the water as he sat upright, ears pinning back as he threw a glare over his shoulder. His eyes were still a touch foggy with exhaustion. “We were having a nice moment, asshole. Don't make me boil you in this tub.”

His pointed nose scrunched up with a feigned distaste as he folded his arms and Aether laughed again. Full bellied and genuine. Contempt was a mask he wore with ease but that was all it was, a mask that Aether saw clear beneath. He'd long since wormed his way under that rough exterior and made a home in his carefully guarded affections, and since then Dew couldn’t hide a thing from him.

“Oh you wouldn't,” Aether hummed with a confidence Dew scoffed at. He kissed the space under his ear, and once more under his jaw “I know my sweet boy better than that….” Wandering from his belly, his hand settled to pet over his hip, fingers dipping into the cut of it. Far enough to get Dew squirming a little, “know you missed me too baby.”

“Nn…Maybe a little bit.” His pulse jumped under the brush of lips, more truthful than the fire ghoul intended to be that's for sure. An open mouthed kiss to the side of his neck was all it took to elicit honesty in a shudder. His knees poking above the water almost knocked together, a few kisses and Aether knew he had that cute little cock starting to fatten up. “...Missed you too Aeth,” he finally confessed, much like prayer.

As much as Dew appeared to prefer a more silent variety of affection, he was impossibly weak to being loved on. Adoring whispers of I love you was all Aether needed to bring some pink to those high cheekbones. Chaste kisses and casual displays alone could get his dick twitching with interest and Aether loved that about him. Loved how sweet of a weakness it was, and how easily he could exploit such a proclivity nearly as much.

“Say it again” Aether instructed, teasing his nails through the cornsilk hair just above where Dew needed him. He'd barely brushed the base of his cock and Dew was starting to blush a proper, more fitting of a fire ghoul, red.

Somehow Dew melted further, like he was trying to meld himself entirely with his mate. His knees fell apart against either side of the tub. More than invitation.

“Missed you, fuck, Aeth I missed you every fucking second.” He choked out, head falling back against his shoulder, “need you to touch it. Touch me, remind me.”

The flowery air turns spiced, clove just starting to be exposed to heat. Faint yet growing. Aether couldn't get enough.

Still partially soft, his cock was almost engulfed in his palm. Dew exhaled shakily, he was sure his eyes fluttered but Aether wasn't looking - though he should have been - his attention was fixed below the surface of the water. Watching Dew slowly stiffen up was his favorite part. He wanted to watch the head flush to match his cheeks, enjoying the sight almost as much as the physical sensation of him filling out and twitching for him. It made it feel real, made Dew feel real.

It's not fast but it certainly wasn't slow. Teasing was the last thing on his mind, but he refused to rush. Not when they'd both gone so long without each other. He mouthed lazily at his pulse and caught himself grinning against his throat, already imagining the messy purple splotches he planned to litter his skin with. Truthfully they had nothing but time.

“Did it miss me too?” Aether purred, squeezing his cock just enough to wring a semi pained and entirely pleasured groan out of Dew.

“Uh-huh…” Dew noddled, a little dumbly. Something that happened often when he was left in Aether's hands.

Aether reveled in every twitch, every hitched breath. He wanted to commit it to memory. He kept an arm tight around his middle while twisting his free hand up and down his length. With his eyes screwed shut Dew reached blindly for him, overlapping with his unoccupied hand before naturally lacing their fingers together. It was sweet if you ignored the slight death grip Dew had on his other arm.

It was getting increasingly harder to ignore his own ache.

He thumbed over his slit a few times and Dew keened enough he nearly peeked over the water but Aether drew him back with a little hum. Shamelessly taking the opportunity to slide his cock against the cleft of his ass, Dew kicking hard in his fist.

“Easy baby boy…Don't tell me I've got you close already.”

Dew shook his head but all Aether had to do was sneak that hand down to squeeze at his overly tight balls. His jaw went slack and his thighs shook.

“Can't cum for me yet,” Dew whined sadly, a little wounded “need to be inside you.”

“Aeth…” His breath trembled, a quiver throughout his entire little body as those thick fingers moved further. Over the seam of his sack to rub the pads of two against his taint, grazing his hole.

“Shh” He knew the pleading was close behind. The pathetic breathless babbling that would usually drive him wild would only drive a sad stake into his already yearning heart. He didn't want that version of Dew tonight, he wanted him blissed and spoiled to the point of overwhelm. An entire tour worth of love and desire to pour into the space of a single bath, months of time to make up for. “You've got me, you've got all of me.”

Unwilling to waste another precious second he pressed his middle finger past the fluttering ring of muscle, the two of them groaning in unison. Always so fucking tight - something that hadn't left his thoughts since their last night together. The promise of Dew wrapped so snug around him made him lightheaded.

“Belial, you still get all slick for me like you used to.” He nosed into his pale hair, wanting to bury himself in the smoky scent. “Always gonna be my little water ghoul, aren't you?”

Squirming slightly, his flush crept damn near all the way down his chest. Despite that fidgeting Dew still moaned and tried to roll his hips. Aether gave him a second digit without warning and the biddable fire ghoul was nearly trying to fuck himself on both fingers. Doing most of the work for him, all Aether had to do was scissor him open and listen to hot puffs of breath that Dew panted out. He swore the room was getting warmer with every sigh.

“Could smell it on you all fucking day,” Aether rumbled lowly, lips grazing a particular birthmark on his shoulder blade and Dew’s body clenched around him. “My needy boy, couldn't get my cock off your mind.”

“Couldn't stop thinking about it, haven't stopped since the last show ended. Been waiting to come home to you.”

Aether nearly growled, proprietorial desire burning like a supernova at his core. It made his neglected cock throb against the small of Dew's back, fat and heavy. He licked over his fangs and withdrew from the desperate clutch of his body. Dew deflated, sagging uselessly into him.

Limp and pliable, it was almost like sliding into a doll. Easy with only the slightest bit of his resistance despite the proper lack of prep. Dew's breath caught as he nudged the head of his cock against his winking hole, unaccustomed to his girth but desperate for it, he tried to sink down onto him. Aether swore the whole bathroom tilted, maybe the entire world went sideways when the flushed red tip popped inside of him. It punched a guttural sound from him, and a high reedy cry from Dew. He grabbed a handful of his barely there ass to still him, already breathing heavily.

His body was heavenly, or hellish in how sinfully good it was. Aether should have been dubbed a saint with the sheer restraint he exhibited not throwing Dew over the edge of the tub then and there. Hot and tight hardly described it, a vise set to draw him in and never let him go. Only having taken an inch Dew was already trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“Ha - shit.” Aether swallowed thickly, dizzy. “Oh, oh you want it bad.”

“Fucking fill me.” A touch more demanding than Aether would typically allow, he chose to let it go. After so many months he couldn't fault Dew for forgetting his place or the rules.

Taking his bony hips in both hands, he was reminded of just how small the fire ghoul was - just how perfectly he fit in his palms - Aether finally gave it to him. In one less than gentle movement he sheathed himself into the unholy embrace of his velvety walls. Dew's mouth fell open in a silent cry, breath ripped from his lungs. He hadn't fared much better, Aether swore the edges of his vision went fuzzy and dark.

“Yes, yeah, Lucifer - You just fucking take it don't you?”

“So…S’big.”

“It is, huh darling?” He lifted him up an inch and immediately let him drop back down quick and unguided. Aether was sure Dew’s eyes crossed. “Been waiting for you. Saving it for you.”

“Y - You,”

“Mhm…” The quintessence ghoul licked a fat stripe up the side of his throat, reveling in the salt of his sweat on his tongue. “You wanna be filled, gonna fucking fill you.”

Dew's head tipped forward, chin to his chest, as Aether guided his hips in a slow circle.

“Gonna make you so full” he grabbed a shaking hand and guided Dew's palm to his belly, pressing. “Nn…Feel me? You feel me in there?”

The fire ghoul could barely gurgle a semblance of response.

“Here, I'm gonna cum right here and then you'll really fucking feel it. Bet I can make that belly swell with it, then ‘m gonna force you on my knot where you belong.” His head was swimming. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. “Might never let you off, keep you, claim you.”

“O-Oh fuh-”

“Hells below, you're oh - my good boy.” Aether reached for Dew's little dick, fingers curling snug around it. “Mine.”

#spicy tag #writing #answered #void writing #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost fanfic #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #sodo ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther #aether/dewdrop

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hannie-dul-set · 21 days

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Hi hi! How about jaemin? 🫣

I've been into him since he posted him wearing spec on ig 😭😭

[an untouched cooler of strawberry and vanilla]. na jaemin still remembers that your favorite popsicle flavor is vanilla strawberry swirl.

it’s just the perfect amount of sweet, you said. the fruity taste of strawberry mixed with the mild vanilla can make me eat ten popsicles in one sitting. jaemin never really shared the sentiment, going as far gracing you with a horrified expression when you forced him to taste it before. he still remembers the gross flavor on his tongue. he still remembers how much sweeter your laughter sounded— sweeter than the ice cream flavor you loved so much.

“na jaemin! why the hell is this entire cooler filled with nothing but strawberry ice cream?!”

maybe because he heard you’re finally showing up to the gathering this summer. maybe because he’s been waiting for you to finally show up after all those unreturned invitations for the past six years.

“you’re lactose intolerant! and you don’t even like strawberries!”

who cares? he’d die choking on milk and strawberries if you tell him to (maybe that’s a stretch, but the sentiment is there).

“hey, where are you going?!”

he hears the gates of his family’s vacation house rattle open. a familiar greeting, a familiar welcome. the voice of his mom, the voice of yours— all of which rapidly grow louder when he runs down the hallway, bumping into mark who’s carrying fruit trays and canned soda, runs down the staircase, breezing past chenle who has a pool floatie caught around his waist, until he finally reaches the main foyer, screeches into a quick halt, and then ah.

“oh my! i’m happy that your daughter finally found the time to join our summer gatherings together. when was the last time you’ve been here again, sweetie?”

just like how he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor, his memory of how pretty you are remains unchanged.

“now that everyone’s here, i guess we can start the barbecue!”

well. not all things can remain the same. not all things can stay still like stagnant water. the barbecue starts, and jaemin is manning the grill with haechan— who’s still pressed because he ran from him earlier— now even more pissed because, “dude, the meat is fucking burning. where the hell is your head at?’

his head is turned exactly thirty-seven degrees away from where it should be— pointed at the direction of the pool ledge where you’re sitting, dipping your feet in the water, but it’s not just you there.

jeno is there too. with matching melona bars in hand.

haechan hisses out a swear when the fire burns his side of the meat into char. you didn’t even spare him anything beyond an awkward smile at the front door earlier. the cooler of strawberry swirls remains untouched. haechan kicks him out from grilling duty until further notice, but na jaemin isn’t one to sit around and do nothing.

“hey.”

somehow, his feet lead him to the edge of the pool. you look up at him. jeno looks up at him. your half-eaten melona bars mocking him in plain sight. he feels five other eyes staring at him, but that doesn’t matter right now.

“we’re missing some plates and utensils on the table. mind helping me get them from the kitchen?”

what matters is making sure that not all things have changed.

“i missed you.”

and he gets that confirmation when the kitchen curtains draw close, your popsicle hits the tiles, and you don’t push him away when he sinks himself into your warmth, arms wrapped around you, and strawberry vanilla has never smelled sweeter than when he’s taking in the scent from your hair and neck.

“thanks,” you say— the first time he’s heard your voice again after those god awful years. it’s dry, there’s snark in your tone, and god he could die right now and say thank you to the heavens because you haven’t changed one bit. “but if you really did, why’d it take you so long for you to say it then?”

there’s knot in his throat. there’s a gap between you when jaemin pulls himself off, pulls himself together. but just when he’s about to fill you in on the past six years— why things ended, why he couldn’t say a word, why he’s never stopped missing the memory of you smiling through your teeth in between the strawberry-vanilla dessert— the kitchen doors slide open.

“hyung.”

and the smell of rusty chlorine rinses the air.

“the food is ready. time to eat.”

send me a kpop boy (txt/enha/zb1/bnd/dream) to toss into reverse harem hell!

#something about na jaemin just screams first love exes to (maybe) lovers no i cannot explain.#and no i will not take any counter arguments.#blurb games #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct scenarios

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frankenkyle19 · 1 year

Text

Taking the Evan’s to a waterpark

Tate Langdon:

•is grumpy at first

•wants to just stay at home and snuggle

•doesn’t like being around a lot of people at once

•once you convince him, he does end up having fun

•doesn’t really want to wear a swimsuit, not wanting everyone to see his scars on his arms

•ends up staying out of the water as much as he can (kinda impossible)

•he does have a fun time watching you though. Seeing you happy makes him happy too.

•he’s very clingy so he wouldn’t want to be away from you for even a second

•You go to get you both some food and he follows after you like a lost puppy dog

•holds your waist, just leaning against you as he tickles your neck with kisses

Kit Walker:

•agrees instantly

•takes the kids with you, so most of your time is spent watching them

•he is super protective over them and doesn’t take his eyes off of them for a second

•still gives you plenty of attention, not wanting you to feel left out

•gets you all ice cream

•keeps kissing you because ‘your ice cream tastes better’

•”Just have some then!”

•”I prefer it from your lips”

•cheesiest mother fucker out there. Like for real

•his kiddos shake their heads and mumble out some ‘ewwws!!’ And ‘daddy that’s gross!’

•once you’re all packed up and in the car, the kiddos fast asleep, he leans over and kisses you once more

•”Thank you for the idea, the kiddos loved it and I loved it. I hope you had fun too.”

Franken!Kyle Spencer:

•has no idea where you’re going or what it means

•is excited nonetheless because anywhere with you is fun for him

•he isn’t a huge fan of the heat or the sun, but the water helps him cool down

•doesn’t like going down the big slides, prefers keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground (same Kyle. Same)

•goes on the lazy river floaty things, wants to share one with you and gets upset when you tell him he can’t

•you let him hold your hand from his float as you two float down the river together

•wears himself out pretty quickly. Probably had asthma when he was alive and I dunno if he’d still have it after he was reanimated or not. But yeah.

•is out once you get back to the academy. Like doesn’t wake up till the next morning, super groggy but happy

Jimmy Darling:

•doesn’t want to leave the camp but you manage to convince him

•splashes you because he’s a little shit

•challenges you to go down all the big slides

•tries to get freaky with you in the pool

•”Jimmy! There’s people around!!”

•”if they watch, that’s their problem, doll”

•is super self conscious about his hands per usual, tries to wear gloves into the water :(

•”baby, don’t wear those.”

•”people will stare if I don’t”

•”Jimmy people will stare more if you wear them”

•he’d stubbornly take them off, keeping his hands behind his back unless he was in the water

•Overall, he enjoyed it, the water keeping him cool as you kept him company.

James March:

•so let’s say he can leave the hotel for more than just Halloween

•if he could, you’d find a way to get him to go to a waterpark with you

•he wouldn’t wear swim attire and wouldn’t want to get wet

•He's such a diva. It’s actually ridiculous at times

•”I will absolutely not get myself wet nor take off any article of clothing.”

•eye rolls on top of eye rolls

•stays dry while he smokes, just watching you

•he’s definitely a people watcher, just sits and examines everyone around him

•bides his time until you two leave

•doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but went through with it seeing how happy it made you

Rory Monahan:

•is totally down for the idea. Like super super excited

•wakes up super early to get ready and on the road. Wants to spend as much of the day there as possible

•total dork, pretending to ‘drown’ to see if any lifeguards would come to his rescue (they didn’t)

•He also likes to grab you and pull you under the water, which makes you mad, but he cracked up. The way you screamed when he grabbed your legs from behind.

•gets a shit ton of food for the both of you but ends up stealing yours too. Bro’s a snacker

•whines and complains when you tell him it’s time to go, begging like a child for ‘five more minutes’

Kai Anderson:

•keeps putting it off, telling you he’s too busy

•when you finally manage to get him to agree, you’re ecstatic.

•He acts all stoic and just watches as you go down the slides and swim around.

•you end up shoving him in to the pool, knowing you’ll pay for it later.

•He just kinda chills in the water after that. Just watching you, as well as other people around him, seeing if there were any potentially good cult members.

•You try to get him to just relax and enjoy the day, but he’s so in his mind that he can’t. He can’t rest, leaders didn’t rest

•You still tried your best to get him to enjoy his time there, and maybe he did, but he didn’t really show it

Mr. Gallant:

•Complains that he doesn’t want to get sunburnt, so you promise to put sunscreen on his back every half hour

•He also didn’t like wearing plain swim shorts because it was boring. He wasn’t boring.

•He sat at the water's edge for a bit and just dipped his toes into the water, eyes closed as he relaxed.

•Eventually jumps in once he gets too hot. Bobs around in the water, getting mad when kids or other adults bumped into him

•goes down the lazy river with you, trying to use his feet to flip you over out of your float

•Hates when his hair gets wet because he doesn’t like the way it looks when it dries naturally (hair stylist thingsss)

•still ends up getting sunburnt and swears he's never going outside without a shirt on ever again

Peter Maximoff:

•So excited to get you all to himself for a day just relaxing

•tries to use his mutant powers while in the water and ends up splashing water absolutely everywhere

•his powers don’t really work in water, it slows him down to an almost normal speed

•get snacks first. Food, food, food. This boy is always thinking about his twinkies. Doesn’t go an hour without eating something

•goes down the slides and absolutely cannonballs into the water.

•his hair sticks to his face and covers his eyes when he comes out of the water, making him huff.

•some people do recognize him, but luckily it doesn’t cause too much of a commotion and you’re able to enjoy the day

•such a little shit. Doesn’t matter where you take him, he will always act out.

•maturity level of an eight year old boys

•When you tell him it’s time to go, he runs away and hops back into the water, swimming away from you as fast as he can

•once he finally comes back to you, he’s still wet, fingers and toes wrinkled from the amount of time he’d been in the water.

•”look at me I’m so oldddd”

•he’d chase you back to the car

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters icons #ahs fandom #ahs kyle spencer #ahs asylum #ahs coven #kyle spencer #tate langdon #kit walker #peter maximoff #james patrick march #evan peters characters #kai anderson #kit walker imagine #kit walker ahs #kyle spencer imagine #jimmy darling ahs

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