#funny that I can write this but not a single paper

[anxiety-pickle]

Jade and Aventurine analysis pt 2

bc I have chronic can't shut the fuck up disease

I’ve been seeing a lot of rhetoric floating around that we can’t judge (or even get a good idea of) Jade’s character because she hasn’t had her character’s release yet, which I want to address, and I’m going to do so by comparing Aventurine’s 2.0 appearance and Jade’s 2.1 appearance and related context, and why I don’t think it’s going to be a ‘switch up’ situation

This might also count as a Jade + Aventurine design analysis / theory?? I’ll leave that up to the jury

For some context, I started hsr because of Aventurine in 2.0. I started maybe a week or so before 2.1 came out specifically because I was so interested in his character, and by that point I had already made my determination about his character. And let me tell you I clocked him right off the bat. Not a single part of 2.1 was actually surprising to me (as terribly awful as much of his backstory is) and here’s why:

Aventurine’s first official appearance was his debut in “White Night” which turned out to be a direct parallel to his character arc as well as 2.1’s story, with lyrics such as “you’re hosting / a magic show I cannot escape / there’s nothin’ else left for me to do / goin’ to the other side”. This directly references both Sunday’s use of Order on him as well as him traveling through the Nihility to find Dreamflux reef

More importantly for his character however are the following lyrics “There’s no one else left for me to lose / goin’ to the other side, other side / I don’t want to be alone tonight / I’ll bring to you my best disguise / ‘cause you don’t need, don’t need to know the truth”

It tells us BLATANTLY what Aventurine’s character is - we know everything about him right from the beginning, even if it wasn’t clear that the song was about him

Now let’s move onto his design: This is an even more meta discussion of his character, but Aventurine’s design does a great job of telling us everything we need to know about him. 

Let’s start with the general card motif. The first thing I noticed was the recurring Spade design which is all over his outfit (and later turned out to be the suit that he applies to himself with his shield). In the Tarot deck, Spades are associated with intellect, action, air, and death, so already we have some morbid connotations with his imagery

Next is his general outfit: it’s very extravagant and superfluous; there’s obviously an element of seduction to his design (both with the choker and the chest window), which is likely a reflection of Aventurine’s views towards using himself as a chip (which I’ll get to later). This immediately illustrates to me that he has no problem using whatever means he has at his disposal to do what he needs to, even at risk to himself (which was later confirmed by his language towards himself in 2.0)

Finally onto the choker and the bracelets. Both are inherently restrictive pieces of clothing. The choker particularly calls reference to a collar (you might notice that Topaz, an indentured servant, also has a choker in her design, whereas Jade’s neck is bare). In Aventurine’s case, the bracelets and choker were particularly noticeable to me after Ratio and Aventurine’s staged 2.0 conversation wherein he’s called a “doomed Sigonian thrall” or openly called a “slave” in the Chinese dub

All this is to say, every element of these character designs are thought out and we can glean relevant information from them

Now let’s talk about Aventurine in 2.0

Initially, he deliberately antagonizes himself by playing up his frustration at the Astral Express taking up time when correcting a room-booking issue, and establishes a point of negotiation between himself and Himeko, who he perceives to be the leader

He ends up giving the Trailblazer his room (which he went to great lengths to get) at no benefit to himself - in fact, it’s a very large inconvenience

Multiple times he emphasizes that we, the player, should feel free to “use” him, once again showing he has no regard for his own life at all

The most damning piece of evidence, however, is that Acheron straight up clocks him the second she lays eyes upon him, “There are people who possess unwavering resolution and faith, even unto death, and they do not wield such conviction for good. One who wears a blade must use it to cut eventually. And when a gambler has nothing to lose on the table, he will surely go for broke and bet it all on a final hand.” (The Youths Who Chase Dreams)

In the ten minutes we see Aventurine on screen, he’s already 1) given up his room (to his detriment), 2) used dehumanizing language towards himself and 3) someone else who’s seen him for 2 seconds went wow that bitch looks suicidal (and she was right)

My suspicions were then confirmed by the following conversation with Ratio and Aventurine (which we now know to be scripted)

When Ratio says “doomed Sigonian thrall” we see the camera pan down to the brand on his neck while also showing the discomfort on his face → and to be honest, the sheer amount of people who weren’t immediately aware that the brand represented something dehumanizing at the least was a little surprising to me, because there were no positive connotations (or even neutral ones) in that scene. It made it very clear that it was something bad, maybe something done against his will / was outside of his control

The last important scene in establishing Aventurine’s character foundation is with his conversation with Sparkle (again, the reception to that conversation made me… a little uncomfortable. The way her comments were received freaked me out a little I’m ngl)

She first makes comments about his eyes, so we immediately know that they’re uncommon

She then tells him that Sigonians belong in the sewers (which is a crazy thing to say) and essentially says all of them are liars and thieves, so now we have real in-world prejudice against the planet that Aventurine comes from. Now we can identify the even more specific prejudice that Aventurine’s ethnic group, the Avgin, experience. Sparkle makes it clear that his eyes are distinctive and can be used to identify him as Avgin, immediately thereafter telling him that he and his “thieving people” belong in the gutters

Aventurine also says that the Dreamscape is “frivolous, vain, and flashy - and that suits me just fine” (Gentleness, the Name of Nocturne)

The worst part imo was when she mocks him, “Did you strip yourself naked, apologize to him on your knees, and promise that IPC would never harm Penacony?” (Gentleness, the Name of Nocturne). This remark is exponentially worse now considering his full circumstances, but it was already bad just as it was stated. A lot of people just took this as a joke, but I can read so I didn’t. There is a very clear power dynamic being established here - between Sunday and Aventurine (which ends up becoming relevant in 2.1), but it also establishes that there’s a power imbalance between Aventurine and the rest of the world. It doesn’t help that Aventurine doesn’t say anything to that - he doesn’t even appear offended. I assume that’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever heard said about him. The backdrop of “all Sigonians being liars, thieves, and social manipulators” definitely doesn’t help that either - playing on the assumption that because he’s Sigonian he must also be a whore

So this is yet another instance of someone (Aventurine or other) making a remark about Aventurine using himself as a tool to get what he wants → so, both internal and external instances of people using dehumanizing language towards him

This informs us that both Aventurine, and the world around him, do not value him

All this is to say it should have been abundantly clear to anyone who was paying attention what Aventurine’s character would turn out to look like: he is very clearly posturing through the entirety of the quest, he is very clearly self-destructive, and his self-esteem certainly can’t be very high

And I was right! I was exactly on the money. So now, using what we’ve seen of Jade, I’ll analyze why I don’t think Jade is in a similar situation as Aventurine (or even Topaz)

Now we don’t have nearly as much Jade content as we had Aventurine content at the time I made my determination about his character, but I feel I have enough material to make an educated guess as to what Jade and her motivations actually are. Let’s start with character design

First thing’s first: the snake. This is very clearly a Biblical allusion to the snake and the Garden of Eden. Broadly, snakes are already symbols of trickery, deception, lies, and sin (all of these having culturally to do with the christian hegemony). 

So basically, Jade has THE symbol of sin and temptation

Now, this COULD be a red herring, but so far her actions match up to her motifs - if anything, the snake is a reflection of herself rather than some kind of disembodied act / third-party-manipulation

In her splash art, the snake has an apple in its mouth (representing “sin”) that literally bleeds onto a contract she’s signing. So already we’re not painting a pretty picture here

Back to the jewelry around her neck: her necklaces are in no way as restrictive as Aventurine or Topaz’s chokers. I believe this was an intentional design choice, especially when comparing the “openness” of her outfit to Aventurine’s. Despite his attitude and posturing, he spends much of the quest making defensive gestures (such as crossing his arms or holding his arm behind his back, and largely keeps space between himself and others). He is also almost entirely covered up, aside from the chest window. This could just be due to hyv being weird about women, but I do think there’s something to be said about the relative flowy, open gestures of her outfit - Jade doesn’t dress like a woman who’s afraid

In her splash art, we can see her standing at the bough of a tree (perhaps representing the garden of Eden) and a man crawling towards her, offering jewelry and other valuable items. This man does not seem well, and the audience can extrapolate that he is not doing this of his own free will / there is coercion of some sort at play

Another comparison I’ve seen made of her clothing, and one I have to agree with, is that of a Southern Belle, and given the whip, animations, and the context in which we see her for the first time… let’s just say she’s not beating the allegations

This is a more minor character design choice, but note that her nails are sharp and pointed in her splash art. This is usually done to appear “animalistic” in some way; prescribing nonhuman traits to human characters so that they’re associated with a particular trait. In this case, the pointed nails are likely a reference to either the snake or the “demonic” connotations of “sin”

Her stone itself, jade, has different meanings in different cultures. In Chinese culture it is commonly used to symbolize success, good fortune, and prosperities. In ancient culture it was also believed to connect humans to the divine realm. I find this interesting because Jade herself works as a symbolic “connection” between the rest of the world and Diamond, who might be considered “divine” in some senses as he is an emanator. She says that she is the only person working directly with diamond, so I wonder if her stone was chosen accordingly?

‘Jade’, as in the stone itself, is also a ‘catch all’ term for both nephrite AND jadeite… so, Jade isn’t even an actual ‘designation’ of stone, referring rather to a spectrum of stones. Nephrite and Jadeite can be distinguished by their toughness and translucency. 

It’s somewhat ironic that aventurine (stone) is considered a cheap counterfeit (and Aventurine refers to himself similarly throughout 2.1) meanwhile Jade isn’t even its own individual category of stone. 

Next let’s look at her in the 2.1 plot

The first time we see her, she’s acting as a JUDGE. That is important to emphasize because people consistently downplay her role in his sentencing. I’m not sure why she was acting as a judge in this case (it might have something to do with the massive amount of money and infamy the case caused, or maybe there just wasn’t anyone else with high-enough clearance to take the case, or maybe she expressed personal interest in Aventurine and wanted to hear his piece in person), but she was literally the SOLE acting authority

I’ve already discussed Aventurine’s suspicious lack of legal options, so we know that Jade is basically the only thing that stands between him and literally dying

Immediately, she’s the first thing we see on screen, and she takes up the entire screen - domineering, pushing Kakavasha into the corner even in his own memory. This establishes another very clear power dynamic between them. Jade is sitting above him in her perfectly styled clothing while he stands beneath her in chains. The first thing she says to him is to assign material worth to his body, and goes on to admonish him for killing a slave owner - so, we know whose side she’s on, basically

Granted that Kakavasha basically just “exchanged hands” within the IPC, that’s not surprising that she’d have such a blase attitude

Here, we also see the shift in Kakavasha’s voice - I’m not sure when the change happened, but I do think he ends up mimicking her (both with the hat and the manner of speech). We already know Aventurine has the unfortunate habit of picking things up from the people who’ve hurt him (eg “all or nothing”)

I think it’s honestly a shame that people aren’t willing to engage with Jade’s character as it’s presented because that incredibly unhealthy mentor/mentee relationship is much more narratively complex and imo worth exploring than whatever it is they’re doing over there

Jade clearly has all the power over this transaction - Aventurine makes her an offer, and she accepts, but it was her choice to do so. She could have just as easily sentenced him to death, but she figured that she could get something out of him - notice how her tone sharpened after Aventurine made his wager. As soon as money was on the table, her attitude changed.

So, again, my opinion has been thoroughly substantiated by the way she acts: I think she is sinister and cunning, like Aventurine, but in the opposite way - Aventurine makes himself out to be an incompetent fool to trick others into underestimating him, whereas Jade uses a soft, kind voice to lure others into a false sense of security.

We can’t say for sure how Jade perceives herself, but I think that’s irrelevant to the discussion of her character analysis. By this I mean her motives for doing this seem entirely geared by profit, but the reason she seeks that profit is unknown. Regardless, I don’t think there’s a backstory in the world that could make me “switch up” on her. Now I’m gonna move on to 2.3 leaks so if you don’t want to see those be warned

*leaks start here

I’ve already gone through her eidolons (the clearest reflection of her soul) and they all pretty much just reference her position as a loan shark. So, predatory and exploitative in nature

Jade’s kit sucks HP from her teammates

Being a capitalist parasite is literally baked into her kit that is SO funny

Her skill drains 5% of any ally affected by Debt Collector → if Debt Collector is applied to herself, she does not lose HP but she does not receive the associated buff. So, the opposite of the self-destructive behavior we see Aventurine show (who, in his kit, literally applies a higher taunt to himself so that he’ll get hit more often than his teammates)

She may affect enemies with “blind fealty” which prevents them from attacking

She quite literally profits off of her teammate’s suffering. This is so incredibly funny

As for her light cone: THEY DELETED THE LEAKS I FOUND

If anyone knows where to find them. Please lmk. Everything I could find on tumblr, tiktok, twitter, and reddit is literally gone. I had a post saved from 2 days ago that got deleted. Idk where the crackdown is coming from (especially since Firefly’s animations are completely untouched). Maybe they’re fixing her unrendered-ass animations 

Anyways, from what I remember I think the light cone is called “Hope is Priceless” or something along those lines, which SEEMS like it should have a positive implication about her character, but if anything it feels… ironic? Maybe even mocking? When compared to the names of all of her talents and eidolons. I’m going to interpret that as “hope is a good investment because I pay nothing to achieve it”. We’ll see how that interpretation goes in the next couple of weeks I guess

Anyways, comparing that to Aventurine’s kit, which literally focuses around protection (once again showing the division between his carefree mask and his actual character), Jade straight up stealing her allies’ HP is just. So funny. Like yeah that makes sense. She’s a debt collector. Taking people’s shit is her whole job and she takes that gig seriously

From what I remember reading on her light cone, she was fixing an orphanage (or something like that? A place with a bunch of small children), and I was getting a menacing sort of vibe to it. Maybe take that with a grain of salt because I literally cannot find it to quote right now. And if/when I do I will edit this but it’s literally nowhere

**leaks end here

Notably, we have no leaks pertaining to Jade’s past or anything like that, which implies that it has no bearing on the plot of 2.3. Especially compared to Aventurine’s pre-2.1 leaks. I’m going to go out on a limb here and wager that Jade’s backstory isn’t particularly important to her character - at least, not the way Aventurine’s backstory is important to his character. At the moment, I don’t think her character or the overarching narrative would have anything to gain from trying to make her seem sympathetic, as they’ve done a pretty good job of painting the IPC workers as a morally gray entity between the IP3. You have Topaz, who is happily complicit in colonization - but an indentured servant to the IPC all the same, and Aventurine, who is unhappily complicit (note also that Aventurine was specifically assigned to the Penacony case because his methods are significantly more peaceful than whatever Opal had planned) and who is property of the IPC. From that alone we have a pretty broad gray-space of morality to work from, so I’d prefer if they went even darker with Jade (as far as motivations go).

Basically, you can’t build a villainous corporate entity off of sad backstories alone, and since the IPC references so many real irl corporations, I think it would be kind of strange if they decided to sob-story everything they’re doing away. 

If they were to go down the path which attempts to absolve Jade of her guilt by giving her some tragic backstory, or otherwise shifts the blame of her actions up the chain of command (which also doesn’t really make sense, since that would take away a lot of her autonomy and also the only person above her is DIAMOND), I feel that it would… cheapen her character as well as the story. Gray morality =/= sad backstory!!

I was also a bit confused about why Jade is becoming playable now. Like, we’ve seen maybe 30 cumulative seconds of her onscreen, and we don’t really have many story-relevant leaks right now like we did with Boothill. But Jade actually has a lot of Christian symbolism, which is significant to me because Ena has been associated with Christianity throughout the entirety of Penacony. Now, the snake alone might not have been able to convince me that this was intentional, but the tree/apple/garden of Eden imagery makes it almost impossible that it’s a coincidence. Now, does that mean Jade has connections with the Order? I have no idea, but I do think it’s interesting that she has such strong Biblical imagery right as we’re getting to leave Penacony (and with the Order, an allusion to Christianity and the Christian god)... Maybe she’s intended to be another parallel to Sunday, I can’t be sure yet. I’ll revisit that after her release.

In conclusion critical thinking is a skill and too many people haven’t practiced it

(Sorry for typos/errors/whatever I started drinking halfway through writing this)

[peapod20001]

I actually do have very complex thoughts about many different things, it’s just a bit challenging to connect the inner voice to the outer voice sometimes </3

[aggressiveaffectionpenguin]

somebody please put me out of my misery

[caelivir]

shrimply in love | miya atsumu

synopsis. atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.

pairing. atsumu miya x gn!reader | wc. 2.1k | genres. timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, atsumu is soooo down bad | warnings. (minor?) manga spoilers

notes. outing myself as a hq fan and atsumu lover LOOK AWAY. this was inspired by a tiktok i saw LMFAO 😭. i was up until dawn, on my phone, in the drafts writing this that’s how bad it was. there's something additional to this so stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy.

“tsumu!” you call out from the couch while he’s in the bathroom connected to your shared room. “can you get my wallet? it’s on the bed.”

“sure thing, baby!” he answers back.

“thanks love!” you reply, the petname making him grin in the mirror. it gets him every single time.

after drying off his hands with a towel, atsumu doubles back to the bedroom, your wallet immediately catching his eye. he picks it up, and as he does, something slips out from the crevices.

atsumu picks it up and inspects it. it’s a folded slip of paper. curious, he unfolds it to examine its contents. reading it puts him in shock, and now he’s mildly annoyed with you.

he rushes out of the room, stomping over to you like a little kid. you raise an eyebrow in amusement when he stops in front of the couch.

“baby, what the hell?!” he whines, holding the paper out in front of you for you to read. confused, you lean closer, letting your eyes scan it before laughing out loud. it’s a guest check from the day you first met.

“what?! it’s cute!” you defend with a smile.

“it’s horrifying. do you even know how embarrassing this was for me?” atsumu pouts.

“oh believe me i know.” you giggle.

three years ago.

after a hard won victory, the msby jackals were craving a celebratory meal. meian had suggested a new italian restaurant that had opened by the arena. there was a unanimous agreement among the team, except for sakusa. however, bokuto had managed to convince him to come along with enough pestering.

so there they were, a group of guys well over six foot (with the exception of hinata and inunaki), sharing what’s probably the largest table at the restaurant. it drew tons of attention, and there were even some fans who came up to them for pictures and autographs.

then you came by, ready to take orders, and atsumu knew in that moment he was an absolute goner for you. your beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. you were prettier than those models on the ads he walked by, prettier than the flowers in his mother’s gardens, prettier than sunsets on a beach. and god, your smile. his head went all fuzzy at the sight of it. it melted his insides.

you chuckled at whatever bokuto animatedly said before moving onto atsumu. you looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with so much light that it jumbled the blonde’s brain. shit. what did he want to order?

atsumu’s eyes quickly racked through the menu, and his mouth fired off an order before his brain could process what he was reading. “uh, could i get the shrimps camping?”

a silence befell amongst the table before a collective cackle filled the restaurant. realizing what slipped out of his mouth, atsumu’s face turned red. his cheeks were embarrassingly hot.

mortified. he was absolutely fucking mortified. even that asshole omi-kun found it funny. it didn’t help that you were suppressing a smile at him too. he didn’t even bother with the damage control. there was no point. he’d only embarrass himself further.

with a giggle, you made a note of it on the guest check you were writing up because at least you knew what he was referring to. atsumu buried his face in his hands. see in his head, the setter had come up with a plan to ask for your number, but now he was never even going to walk down this street ever again. his chances? consider them blown.

“alright, alright,” you said after the laughter had died down. you fire off orders to confirm everything, and then you get to atsumu. “and… one shrimps camping.”

“you’re killing me.” atsumu groaned, feeling a new wave of embarrassment now that you were teasing him.

“it’s my job.” you shrugged before walking off with a wink. the blonde felt his heart skip a beat.

“don’t sweat it, atsumu-san!” shoyo clapped his back reassuringly. at least he could leave it to the ginger to always have his back.

it took a minute, but the team had finally moved on from atsumu’s slip up. unfortunately, it was all the setter could think about. god, what if you teased him once you came back with the plates?

luckily for him, it didn’t happen. you just tossed him a knowing grin when you presented him his food. he stared down at those shrimp dancing in the sauce, knowing he’s never ordering fuckass shrimp scampi ever again, and dug in. (it’s the most delicious thing to have graced his tastebuds.)

atsumu, contrary to previous thoughts, did end up coming back to the italian restaurant in the hopes that he could see you. he realized that he wasn’t going to allow one fuck up ruin the chances of having you. atsumu miya is many things. annoying, rude, loud, but a quitter? that’s not one of them.

it was a weekly occurrence, and atsumu would try something different from the menu each time.

“no shrimp scampi?” you would smirk.

“no…” atsumu would sigh, feeling the jab in his bones before handing you his menu. “no shrimp scampi.”

conversations became more casual. he learned more about you like how you were in your final year of university and that your favorite men’s volleyball team was ejp raijin. (he was definitely going to change that.) each week the blonde setter visited you during week made him fall for you even more. all of these little things accumulated until atsumu finally got the balls to ask you out.

“what would you like today, atsumu?” you greeted, that soft angelic grin on your face, and he just knew he had to do it. he couldn’t ever let you go.

“you. me. a date.” he said casually, his eyes dripping with confidence. (interally, he was freaking out).

you tried maintaining your composure but failed so miserably. you couldn’t stop the smile that reached your eyes as soon as you heard those eyes. “i thought you would never ask.” you beamed at him.

chewing on your lower lip, you motioned for him to give you hand, to which he most happily obliged. your touch was a new heaven. so warm and so soft. he wished to be wrapped in it forever.

you held his hand steady as the tip of your pen scribbled on his skin. when atsumu looked down, he realized it to be your number, and his eyes stared at it in awe.

“text me.” you told him before walking off. then you stopped in your tracks, turning yourself back around until you’re back at atsumu’s table. “wait, shit. what do you want to eat?”

oh. he had completely forgotten about that. atsumu picked up the menu and quickly scanned for a fun dish name. “um, just the pizza napoletana and garlic bread.”

“you got it.” you noted it down. followed by, “no shrimp scampi?”

“(y/n), please. i feel like i’m flying right now, and you’re killing my mood.” atsumu’s face fell, feigning fake irritation, but you knew better.

you laughed. “alright, alright. i’ll be back soon.”

“you better be.” the setter scoffed before his face betrayed his true feelings.

and before you knew it, one date became two, then three, then four, and the rest was history, shrimp scampi along with it.

at least, that’s what atsumu thought.

“i thought you completely forgot about it.” atsumu whines.

you laugh, standing up from your place on the couch. “how could i ever forget that? i stopped the jokes because you got all sulky. besides, that’s how my little infatuation with you began.”

once you’re directly in front of him, atsumu places his hands on your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. without even thinking, your hand finds its way to the back of his head, stroking it with affection. “of all things? not my good looks? or my nice arms? ” the blonde murmurs into your skin.

you hum in agreement. “well that came after.” your boyfriend groans, making you roll your eyes.

“i don’t think i ever told you this, but i was having a really rough shift the night the team came in. when you guys were put into my section, i nearly lost it.” you admit. “but then you asked for shrimps camping, and i lightened up, like all of my negative energy just drained out of my body. seeing you all flustered and blushing was so adorable in my eyes.”

your boyfriend pulls back, his face scrunched. “i didn’t realize you were in a foul mood that night.”

“had to fake it. you know how customer service is.” you shrug, a smirk taking over your face soon after. “but you were too busy admiring me to even notice it.”

atsumu grins smugly. he’s not even ashamed. “that i was.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re hopeless.”

the blonde setter hums, leaning in, and you meet him halfway, kissing him gently. atsumu’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against his body. you feel his lips twitch into a smile.

you’re the first to pull away, but your boyfriend is unsatisfied with that. he presses his lips to yours once again before you could even get another breath in. it’s a kiss full of affirmations that atsumu can’t voice. you feel it all through him. he’s so greedy when it comes to you, but he’d definitely agree with that statement without any complaint.

to atsumu, kissing you is a new kind of euphoria, one better than any service ace, better than any cool quick that he pulls off with his hitters. kissing you is like falling in love with you again, and it’s single-handedly the best feeling in the entire world.

he pulls away first with a proud smile. he steals a quick peck against your lips, then your nose, and then the rest of your face until you’re drowning in his affection.

you giggle, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “tsumu!”

atsumu sighs contentedly. his large hand cups your cheek. the rough skin of his thumb traces up and down your face. it’s so reassuring and so warm that you can’t help but lean into it.

“i love you, angel. y’know that right?” atsumu stares at you, adoration swimming in his eyes. everyday, he can’t believe that he gets to have you. he can’t believe he gets to come home and you’ll be there waiting for him, ready to hold him in your arms and kiss his knuckles when he tells you about his day.

you adjust your head ever so slightly to kiss his palm. “i know it. you never fail to make it known.”

you’ve come to realize that that’s who he is. your sweet boy, atsumu miya, is so full of love. behind the brashness and the insults, he has so much love in his heart that some days he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“i love you so much, atsumu miya. you are my life.” you whisper, bringing him in for another soul-igniting, cavity-inducing kiss. it’s intense, hotter, but that is just life with atsumu, a blaze of passion and fierceness.

you can feel him melt against you as if this is his first time doing this with you. you can feel him reciprocating your words. you know him so well that you can guess the words that follow. “all for me. my sweet angel. what did i do to deserve you?”

a memory springs to mind, causing you to cut the moment short as much as you’d like to continue. atsumu pouts at the loss of your lips against his. such a kid. still, he looks at you expectantly.

“i have to admit,” you’re kind of excited to see how he’ll react to it. “the entire restaurant knows you as the shrimps camping guy.”

atsumu stiffens against your body, and the horrified look on his face makes you burst out laughing. “you’re lying. (y/n), tell me you’re lying.”

“i’m sorry, my love. it’s true.” you reach out for his hand, but the blonde playfully shrugs it off.

“don’t touch me. how could you do this to me, huh? i thought we were for life!” atsumu turns away from you, shutting his eyes.

you roll your eyes. you should’ve expected this. in situations like these, there is one sentence that will make him forget everything immediately. “if i kiss you, will you forgive me?”

atsumu snaps his head back to you, and his eyes fly open, allowing you to catch the light that sparkles in them as he smiles widely. he’s so beautiful. “really?!” he exclaims but leaves no room for you to respond before he’s crashing your mouths together for the fourth time. you roll your eyes in disbelief but give into him immediately.

atsumu miya is so annoying, but he’s yours, and you wouldn’t give him up for anyone else in the world.

[honeyedmiller]

Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

-

It was like clockwork. 

Every day was the same. 

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes. 

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five. 

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does. 

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back. 

Either way, it was all the same every single day. 

Until today. 

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five. 

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes. 

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile. 

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate. 

“No problem. Enjoy your break.” 

“Bless you, sweetheart.” 

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you. 

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order. 

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin. 

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey. 

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable. 

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome? 

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age. 

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him. 

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks. 

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.” 

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar. 

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter. 

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite. 

Where the hell have you heard that voice before? 

And then it hits you. 

Fuck. 

Oh, fuck. 

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count. 

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too. 

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure. 

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with. 

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone. 

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature. 

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip. 

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up. 

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way. 

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers. 

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath. 

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him. 

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances. 

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget. 

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way. 

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing. 

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure. 

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire. 

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.” 

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist. 

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?” 

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile. 

“Thanks, Betty.” 

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench. 

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows. 

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose. 

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him. 

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice. 

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret. 

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.” 

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.” 

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table. 

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person. 

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down. 

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad. 

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address. 

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.” 

Holy fuck. 

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket. 

Play. It. Cool. 

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.” 

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt. 

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth. 

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you. 

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words. 

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.” 

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded. 

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke. 

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.” 

-

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows. 

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside. 

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system. 

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink. 

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.” 

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.” 

“See you soon.” 

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away. 

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car. 

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this. 

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off. 

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck. 

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out. 

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock. 

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe. 

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso. 

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan. 

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious. 

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine. 

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?” 

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has. 

There’s no fucking way this man is real. 

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core. 

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world. 

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses. 

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.” 

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time. 

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.” 

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows. 

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen. 

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious. 

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting. 

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor. 

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint. 

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. 

“Show me.” You say. 

A small groan emits from the back of his throat. 

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate. 

It was fucking carnal. 

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh. 

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked. 

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs. 

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?” 

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation. 

“Good.” 

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours. 

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore. 

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life. 

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself. 

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?” 

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you. 

“You know I respect you, right baby?” 

Respect you? 

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name. 

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him. 

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins. 

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. 

He shoots you a devilish smile. 

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan. 

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?” 

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out. 

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso. 

“Answer me.” 

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.” 

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?” 

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips. 

“Joel.” 

“W-what?” 

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.” 

Joel. 

Joel. 

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily. 

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure. 

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point. 

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans. 

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated. 

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging. 

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body. 

“Now.” He says. 

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch. 

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans. 

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it. 

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.” 

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh. 

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times. 

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk. 

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.” 

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly. 

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls. 

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before. 

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him. 

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go. 

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste. 

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. 

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him. 

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so. 

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. 

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion. 

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.” 

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible. 

“Please what, sugar?” 

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.” 

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger. 

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment. 

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance. 

“You ready baby?” 

You nod your head, but he shakes his. 

“Need your words this time darlin’.” 

“Yes Joel. Please.” 

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size. 

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole. 

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you. 

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator. 

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut. 

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin  slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting. 

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him. 

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward. 

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time. 

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes. 

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly. 

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel. 

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you. 

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it. 

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit. 

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay. 

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another. 

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss. 

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.” 

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and  shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain: 

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now. 

-

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog

[keeksandgigz]

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

[kazuhaiku]

love story

summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).

notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”

“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”

“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly. 

“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).

you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.

“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).

kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.

kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”

“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.

kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”

“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”

kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”

you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”

“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.

you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.

“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”

“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”

kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”

you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!

“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”

“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”

“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.

kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”

he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Hi dolly!!

This is my first time asking for a request and i hope it’s okay… but is there anyway you can write something smutty for Eddie?

Bully Eddie x shy reader? Eddie is surprised she got detention so he teases her about it the whole time ! When it’s over he “rewards” her for being good and taking the teasing ??

Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

So I took a lil tiny bit of a different approach with this, Reader isn’t as shy as I set out to make her because I’m not the best with shy reader but I hope you still like it, my love!! Also not so loosely based on “good girls” by 5SOS.

Warnings: All characters are 18+, Bully Eddie, “good girl” reader, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, edging, a lil choking, clit slapping, pet names, fluffy ending. 18+MDNI! Wk: A lil over 2k

Everyone labels you as a “good girl” but the funny thing is, that you aren’t really. You sneak out. You party. You’re no stranger to skipping class. But when you sneak out you just go on night walks for some peace and quiet. And when you go to those parties you tend to keep to yourself, find a nice dark corner to hide in while you sip your drink and observe your peers, hardly noticed. Everyone thought you were a prude virgin, but that wasn’t true either. Thanks to Eddie Munson.

Eddie probably knew the real you better than anyone. The first night you hooked up he happened to be walking through the park you always stop to swing at on your walks and offered you a ride. At those parties he would always find your dark corner and slither his way into it, offering to pass joints back and forth, inevitably ending up with you both sweaty in the back of his van. But that didn’t stop him from calling you things like “Angel” and “goody two shoes” you would always disagree but he would always retort that with “bad girls get caught, and you’ve never been caught, so as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re a good girl.”

So he had this obsession with keeping it that way. He would talk to you at school and parties, but only for so long. He never gave any indication that you guys were hooking up on a regular basis to anyone and he even went as far as to tease you in front of your classmates. He was always tugging on your hair, knocking your books out of your hand, throwing little balled up pieces of paper at your head in the middle of English. You always just roll your eyes, maybe flip him off, tell him to fuck off. But in all honesty? It kind of hurts a little, because you’ve come to really like Eddie, even if you never meant to. That’s why when you heard girls in the locker room talking about how Eddie is probably “an animal in bed” but “they’d never touch him with a ten foot pole because he probably doesn’t shower” you might have seen red.

Not only did you feel territorial of him but you felt protective. So you might have grabbed Nina Johnson by the back of her hair and punched her directly in her nose. The entire locker room went silent aside from the sound of her groans as blood started to drip down her nose. If every single person in the room hadn’t unanimously agreed your gym teacher probably would’ve never believed it was you.

“Sooo you really aren’t gonna tell me why you’re in here?” Eddie is turned sideways in the chair next to you with his legs spread. His thick ringed fingers tap on the chipped wood of the desk and his boot clad foot shakes against the cracked linoleum as he gives you a pointed look.

“Nope.” You glance over at him with your lips formed into a pout, your eyes wide while you bat your lashes at him innocently.

“C’mon, angel, don’t be like that.” His tongue darts out to wet his plump bottom lip as his eyes roam your figure. “Tell me what my good girl did to land herself in detention with the likes of me. I’m dying to know.”

“Nice try. But still no.” You roll your eyes as you turn back to your book.

“Oooh, she’s sassy today. Why not? Was it something really bad? Did you go to the bathroom without a hall pass? Maybe you stole a book from the library? Wait, wait, don’t tell me you skipped class, angel? Thought you were a good girl.” You know he’s teasing you, trying to get you worked up, in more ways than one and you hate that it’s working.

“Shut up, Eddie, can’t you see that I’m reading?” The next thing you know your book is being ripped from your hands and held in front of Eddie’s face.

“What’re you reading, anyways? Oh - shit, this is kinda dirty, isn’t it sweetheart?” Eddie’s chocolate mischief filled eyes peek at you from over the cover as he wiggles his eyes eyebrows at you. “The knight did what to the princess now?”

“Eddie!” You feel your entire body warm with embarrassment. You reach out to try and grab the book back but he holds it above his head as he chuckles. “Stop being a dick! Give it back!”

“Don’t be greedy, princess, what if I want to know what the knight does next?” You shoot up from your chair and try to reach for the book again but Eddie easily moves it behind his back before you can get it in your grasp. “I think I’ll hold onto it until detention is over, and maybe if you act like a good girl for the next thirty minutes I’ll give it back after.”

“Whatever.” You huff, flopping down in your chair with your arms crossed.

You don’t look at Eddie for the rest of detention, deciding instead to stare out the window and pout while he continues to try and pester you. You were frustrated and tired of his teasing. You immediately grab your backpack and head for the door when the teacher comes into the room to dismiss you, totally ignoring Eddie as he calls after you. You roll your eyes when you hear his chains clanking behind you.

“Hey, princess, wait up! Don’t you want this back?” He catches up to you easily, his hand grasping onto your wrist to get you to stop walking. You whip your head towards him with your eyes set into a glare.

“Honestly, Eddie? I don’t really care anymore. I just want to go home.” You pull your arm from his grasp and try to walk away but he steps in front of you with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey, are we good? You know I just like fucking with you, right?” He holds your book up between you, offering it to you.

“Yeah, that’s just about all you like.” Eddie’s face drops at your tone. You're never like this. You usually get all giggly and embarrassed when he messes with you but he’s never seen you genuinely pissed off at him. As much as it unsettles him it also makes his cock twitch a little.

“You’re kind of hot when you’re mad, you know that?” Eddie bites his lip and gives you that look that makes you swoon for him every time. He reaches his hand out to cup your jaw, his thumb running across your pouty lips. “Quit pouting, let me drive you home.”

“No.” You whine, pouting even further as you look up at him through your lashes. He has you and he knows it.

“Alright, fine then.” Eddie shrugs, giving you a devilish smirk before turning to walk away, he only makes it a few steps before you’re calling out for him. “That’s what I thought, there’s my good girl.”

“Yeah, fuck, taking me so well, angel.” Eddie is pounding you from behind, your cheek is squished against one of the pillows he started keeping in the back of the van while one of his large hands is laced through your hair. The other roughly grabs onto your hip for leverage, his hips slapping loudly against the fat of your ass.

“Maybe you’re not a good girl after all, huh? Getting dentition. Giving me an attitude. Letting the freak fuck you in the back of his van a block away from your house? Maybe you’ve just been a naughty girl this entire time?” That has you clenching around him, loud moans leaving your lips as you cum hard on his cock.

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck!” He continues to fuck into you hard and deep, using his grip on your hair to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest.

“Tell me why you got detention.” His lips brush your ear, his voice rough.

“Uh-uh” Your eyes roll back when his finger tips brush across your puffy wet clit. He pounds into you a few more times before stilling inside you.

“Tell me, or I’ll stop. I’ll make you lay there and watch me while I jerk off on your pretty little face.” His teeth sink into the nape of your neck, causing you to throw your head back, your walls constricting around his thick cock.

“I don’t know why it matters so much - fuck Eddie -“ you gasp when his hand comes down on your clit, smacking it.

“Tell me.” The hand in your hair grabs onto your throat, adding just the right amount of pressure.

“I punched Nina Johnson in the face, okay!?” You whine when he pulls out of you completely, flipping you on your back. He leans over you, with his hands on either side of your head and a smile plastered on his face.

“Princess, you what!?” He chuckles.

“You heard me.” You pout, avoiding eye contact.

“Did you really? That’s so hot.” He grips onto your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Why’d you do it?”

“Eddie, you said you’d fuck me again if I told you why I got detention I don’t think it’s really fair that you’re asking more que -“ You’re cut off when he takes his cock in his hand and slams inside of you, he doesn’t even give you time to think before his cock is bullying your sweet spot.

“Guess you're officially a bad girl now, huh? Since you got caught?” Eddie chuckles as one of his hands snakes down to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. “But you’re still gonna be a good girl for me, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be so good for you, so fucking good. I’m close, I’m gonna -“ His thrusts and the circles on your clit stop simultaneously causing you to gasp.

“Then be good and tell me why you punched her and I’ll let you cum.” He slaps your clit again and it has your eyes rolling back. “You a little pain slut too? Guess we will have to explore that later. Now answer the question.”

“I just did, okay? I don’t know why it matters, she’s always been a bitch to you anyways.” You whine, any and all fire you had gone, all you want is to cum on Eddie’s cock. “Please, please let me cum Eddie, wanna cum.”

“There’s an easy solution here, princess.” Eddie chuckles as he lands another slap on your clit. “Why’d you do it?”

“She said something fucked up about you, okay!? Now can I please cum? Please?” Eddie’s eyes widen, his heart warming a bit at your words. You got detention for him? He’s going to rock your fucking world.

“Oh, angel. I really have corrupted you, haven’t I? Punching girls in the face for little ol’ me?” He grips onto your calf, throwing it over his shoulder so he can fuck into you deeper, his fingers find your clit again as his cock bullies your sweet spot over and over again. “Cum for me.”

“Fuck, Eddie, want you to cum too. Want you to fill me up.” You’re usually pretty shy with dirty talk but Eddie is seeing a whole new side of you today and he really fucking loves it.

“Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up? Paint your walls with my cum? Maybe I’ll mark you up so everyone knows what a bad girl you really are?” Eddie leans down, letting your leg fall so he can bury his face in your neck. He sucks on your skin, determined to leave his mark.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, Eddie. I’m gonna fucking cum, please mark me up, want everyone to know who I belong to.” Your tight wet pussy constricts around him, sending him over the edge with you. He cock twitches inside you as spurts of his cum fill you.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Naughty little pussy taking all my cum just like she was made to.”

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before flipping onto his side, pulling you against him. You lean up so you can bury your face in his neck and give him a mark of your own causing him to let out a groan.

“You’re gonna get me going again if you keep doing that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand along the back of your head to encourage you to look at him. When you do, he’s looking at you in a way he never has before. Almost with adoration. “You’re really badass, you know that?”

“Yeah? That’s a high compliment coming from you, fair knight.” He lets out a loud, signature Eddie laugh at that.

“I am but your humble servant, princess. I am indebted to you for defending me from the evil witch of the locker room.” You both burst into a fit of giggles. “But really though, you should let me read more of that book, maybe we can act it out one day.”

“Oh my god! You’re so annoying.” You snort, playfully slapping his chest.

“Yeah? And you’re my certified badass girl.”

“Yours, huh?” You look up at him and he cups your jaw, rubbing circles along the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.” His cheeks turn a tinge pink as he looks down at you bashfully.

“Duh.” You connect your lips with his in a tender kiss that feels different from any other kiss he’s given you. You were Eddie Munson’s girl and that’s all you ever really wanted to be.

Divider is by @strangergraphics

[saturngas]

lover boy

[🪐] satoru didn't believe in love at first sight, but it changed when he met you.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: teen!gojo; pining!gojo x pining!reader; two teens in love; this is sooo cheesy; a tiny bit of angst; confort; canon au; I hope I wrote teen gojo well this is lame

word count: 3.3k

...

satoru gojo did not believe in love at first sight. love requires time and devotion, and just seeing someone can't determine your definite feelings for them. he claimed people often mistook love for admiration, physical attraction, or even arousal. his beliefs were firm and inflexible.

so when the first year students got introduced to the new second year class, he felt a bit... provoked.

the moment director yaga announced the new class was coming on thursday, satoru persuaded his two classmates, suguru and shoko, to welcome them warmly. satoru was kind at heart, but sometimes his loud and egocentric personality caught in the way.

he and suguru had prepared a few decorations around the classroom, while shoko got the party hats.

"suguru can you write a big 'welcome' on the board?" satoru asked as he stuck balloons onto the wall.

"what? do it yourself."

"no! you know I can't do it. nobody understands my handwriting."

"well satoru, you need to work on that. it is pretty awful."

"h-hey!"

before satoru could launch at suguru, the door swiped open, director yaga coming right after.

"w-what? who let you do this delinquency on the classroom?" the older man questioned annoyed. he never approved of some party for the new class, he just expected the second years to introduce themselves.

"it was satoru's idea," the black haired guy said quickly.

"what!" a gasp left his lips as his blue eyes shouted betrayal behind his round glasses. "and yet you are here helping me," he squinted his eyes accusingly at suguru.

"it doesn't matter. they will be here in less than thirty minutes," yaga sighed. "and where is shoko?"

just as he finished his sentence, the brown hair girl entered the classroom, a nonchalant facade adorning her. she was holding the three party hats along with snacks and beverages, a single maybe illegal one snuck between them.

kento nanami and yu haibara complemented each other so well. you had known them for just four days, but you were already growing a bit of affection towards your new classmates. nanami was a quiet and private guy while haibara leaned more into the extrovert side, but not being annoying at all.

when the three of you were called into the classroom where you would meet your seniors, a bit of nervous sweat adorned your forehead as you stood behind the shut door. you have heard some tremendous things about the second year students. there was a guy who literally swallowed curses and used them as pokemon, a girl who was incredibly good at reversed cursed technique, and the beholder of the legendary six eyes and limitless. you didn't know who was who though.

"are you guys excited? oh my! I can't wait to be a great sorcerer!" haibara said excitedly and it actually made you less nervous, there was someone in the school who seemed sensitive.

"yeah. it's going to be a long way," you said just so say something, as you couldn't think of an answer to his enthusiasm, when the door slid open to reveal the classroom inside.

a loud plopping sound startled the three of you, confetti cannon firing hundreds of small colored papers in your direction.

"welcome!" a white haired boy with some ridiculous round glasses shouted as he held the confetti cannon. his yawp followed by a couple of seconds of silence as you recovered from the disorientation the loud cannon caused.

"hah, thank you. that was funny." you said with a soft smile. you had to demonstrate gratitude to your seniors, right? even if it's something as random as this. maybe you were overthinking your interactions with your seniors, but you wanted to make a good first impression.

"thank you! im so glad to be here!" haibara said innocently with a big grin. nanami just looked around the room to try and cover his crippling embarrassment.

satoru gojo didn't believe in love at first sight. but when you told him he was funny? maybe the burning sensation of his cheeks claimed otherwise.

okay, you didn't say he was funny, but the confetti cannon was his idea, so you think he is funny, right?

the rest of the welcoming was spent with required introductions from both the new class and the second years. satoru was certainly curious about the three of you, he wanted to know if this generation was strong. sorcerers needed to be strong, he believed. however he couldn't help but stare you.

you were indeed a sight for sore eyes. your hair danced gracefully around your neck, your skin seemed so smooth, your posture screamed confidence, and you eyes were ones to get lost in.

but that was only admiration, right? satoru had seen dozens of pretty girls before. but the big smile crippling up his face couldn't hide itself when you introduced yourself.

your seniors were very... particular, especially the white haired boy with a creepy smile looking directly at you. his eyes were covered by his shades, but you could swear he hadn't blinked in at least the forty seconds that took you to present yourself.

"im glad there is another girl in this school," shoko shared with a relived tone, her brown eyes analyzing the three of you. "it gets a bit... difficult sometimes with so much testosterone here," she said casually while looking at his two male partners.

suguru shot her a displeased glare while satoru... kept staring at you with the biggest grin. suguru could see his blue eyes from the side being as wide as plates. he wanted to slap him from being such a creep.

satoru didn't believe in love at first sight. he was certain what he felt when he saw you using your cursed technique was pure amazement. he valued strength even over people's morals.

the raw power coming from your cursed energy made him feel almost as euphoric as when he discovered his cursed technique reversal, red.

the way your hand-in-hand combat skills made his opinion on you even more complex. was he a creep for peeping your sparring sessions with haibara and nanami?

satoru swore he just admired your hardworking skills, and maybe your cursed energy was somehow attractive to him, and maybe maybe he liked watching you because he thought you were pretty.

but why hadn't he approached you yet? his natural flirtatious charisma would have acted right the moment he said welcome to you. even as far as showing you his bright blue eyes while striking poses in front of you, showing you every single well-carved angle of his body.

yet he had been respectful to your persona. when he was told there would be another girl in jujutsu high, he thought nothing of it, guessing it would be "another shoko," just another female friend of his.

however, you had unconsciously awed satoru: with your beauty, your strength, and you even thought he was funny!

uh oh, maybe you were different. maybe he liked liked you.

"did you know that in quantum mechanics, particles such as electrons can behave both as particles and waves?" satoru said with an easy going smirk as he approached you during your lunch break.

"oh, hi gojo," you smiled naturally, making the dimples on satoru's cheeks deepen. "yeah I have read something about that in quantum physics books. something about the Schrödinger equation, right?"

oh man. satoru knew he was lost. his lanky body launched itself to your side on the bench. you were outside in the training grounds. you took a bite of your rice ball.

"oh wow," he chuckled a bit nervous. "didn't know you were a physics girl."

"not exactly," you responded muffled as you swallowed the food in your mouth. "but I figured I needed to know the basics to understand my cursed techniques."

you were just made for him. satoru esteemed your physical strength and your smart head. were you also a geek like him?

"your cursed technique involves a lot of physics, right gojo?" your words brought him back to reality. "I would appreciate if some time you show me how it works. I guess im a bit nerdy, haha." you laughed a bit embarrassed. was it okay to be this straightforward with your senior? yeah right? they were there to help their juniors after all.

"of course!" he responded loudly with a big grin. it caught you off-guard you almost tossed him your chopsticks.

you would have thought satoru would show you his technique in the training grounds, or even out in a mission. not in a bakery shop.

before one of you classes started, there was a blue sticky note on your table.

"meet me at the bakery shop in front of the park tomorrow at 3pm to show you my technique, -S.G." there was a little drawing of a cat with round glasses at the right lower corner.

satoru had bribed the naive haibara to tell him where you would usually sit and if you had any missions the next day. the junior was so happy his senior was directing a word to him, if only he knew satoru talked to him to get closer to you. poor guy.

what the white haired guy didn't tell you—didn't want you to know—was that he planned it as a date. was it considered a date when only one of them was aware of it?

satoru didn't care.

he stood straighter the moment his blue gaze fell on your figure entering the bakery shop. oh how good you looked in the jujutsu uniform. the skirt fitted you so well.

"hey!" he shouted your name while raising his entire arm to get your attention. it even gathered the attention of the others clients. you chuckled slightly at him, finding it cute that he was so careless about what others think of him.

"hello gojo," your soft voice was like honeyed melody to his hungry ears. he liked hearing his name coming from your throat.

"suit yourself with something sweet," satoru passed you the small menu looking directly at you eyes as you sat in front of him. you hadn't seen his blue eyes yet, but you could feel his deep stare.

"thank you," you murmured. "umm... gojo? I thought you were gonna show me you technique."

"do you really wanna talk about it? I mean we see sorcery-related stuff all the time, we should take a break," he suggested with a smirk. "why dont you tell me more about yourself? I wanna know more things about you."

and that's what you two did for the next couple of hours. satoru found solace talking to you, an easy person to talk to. it wasn't just the addictive sound of your voice, your answers to his questions and the funny remarks you would sometimes add made him all giddy.

he enjoyed listening to you speak, but he felt a tug at his chest and a burning sensation on his pale face when you asked him about him. you wanted to know about his innate technique and his cursed energy, of course, but satoru gojo was more than just him being a sorcerer. and you could see that. perhaps it was part of your nature to see beyond people´s facade, dip into their true feelings and just observe them.

you noticed the way his eyes cracked open when you asked him about his music taste, his long white eyelashes picking up from his round glasses.

satoru was very complex. he was funny, however his jokes were sometimes a bit off. his humor could be a bit... ahead of his time. he tried putting up an unbreakable, solid self-centered demeanor, but he was kind and sweet at heart, in his own and weird way. it was true that he wanted to have a regular date with you, to get to know you—which he was accomplishing—but it was just as true that he wanted to get his mind off of jujutsu. for a moment at least. he didn't need constant reminder he was supposed to be the savior of the world.

the "date" went smoothly. each got to know more about the other. satoru was convinced he will make you his, while you started seeing beyond the strongest, meeting the compounded and sweet person he was.

it was girl's night. one of the girls dorm was full of the only females in jujutsu high—you, shoko, and utahime.

utahime was like your super senior, she was already a graduate and sorcerer. she was nice and honest. you could notice shoko had a deeper bond with her than with her two male friends.

"shokoo," utahime sang to her junior, squinting her eyes. "ive noticed the way that guy haibara looks at you~."

"haha, nonsense," the short haired girl chuckled unconcerned. "im pretty sure he just looks up at me. he is the same with the two idiots."

"yeah, he admires you all," you said after taking a sip of your nonalcoholic beverage. "haibara just wants to be a great sorcerer to help people so he wants to learn from all of you." you yawned. it was almost midnight and even though you were still young and healthy, getting up at 6am was challenging after a sleepless night.

"well he certainly won't learn anything if he follows in the footsteps of gojo," utahime shrugged while rolling her eyes. she needed to get it off her chest after the constant disrespect the junior gave her.

shoko laughed as you did as well, just a bit nervously. "why you say that, utahime-senpai?" your sleepiness vanished completely.

"well!" she has prepared her whole life for this moment. "he is careless and bluntly disrespectful! to everyone—especially to his seniors!" utahime said with an elevated fist in front of her face, she was getting a bit agitated from the alcohol running through her system. "I dont care he is the strongest, gojo doesn't even care for the people around him. he just cares for himself and getting stronger alongside geto."

the girl with ponytails was speaking with her heart. though her words made you question satoru's morals. he was sweet with you the other day, and he always greeted you during mornings. it was clear he wasn't the most down-to-earth person, but you wouldn't agree he didn't care for others.

that night you went to bed a bit anxious, tossing around the blankets thinking about the white haired boy.

"y/n~ why do you keep training with those two?" satoru whined loudly as he ploped himself down next to you. too next to you. you chuckled softly at his dramatics.

the two were sitting under a tree, its autumn-orange leafs falling at the rhythm of the slightly chilly air. it was mid october and the climate was full of cinnamon and earthy odors with vibrant shades of yellow and orange.

utahime's opinion on satoru didn't discourage you from meeting the sunshine boy, but it was definitely interesting to know how his classmates viewed him. you decided to form your own verdict on satoru by yourself.

and you couldn't deny the feeling of an accelerated heartbeat whenever the tall boy would rush to you to start a conversation. you had stopped laughing politely and started giggling like an enamored girl whenever he would say something remotely funny.

it was undeniable satoru was both handsome and pretty. his boyish features, his striking baby blue eyes that mirrored the skies, his ruffled snow white hair, his very tall and lean figure was too much to take in. the more you would meet him, the more you would grow fond of him. he was a sight for sore eyes. and all the while, his personality was eventually getting into you.

"what do you mean, gojo?" you giggled when his clothed thigh brushed yours. "they are my fellow classmates and they are my friends."

"well, im just saying if you train with me, you'll get stronger faster," he suggested while leaning back with his hands behind his head. he wanted to appear cool and smooth.

"oh, please, every time you say we'll train, we end up in a different bistro!" you exclaimed with a hearty smile while looking at him. his cool facade disintegrated once he caught a glimpse of your eyes.

"th-then, thanks to me you know all the great small restaurants around here!" satoru said flustered. you chuckled while leaning back as well, and just slightly, almost nothing, satoru felt the ghosty touch of your shoulder on his side.

"haha, whatever you say, satoru," the taller man looked at you impressed, a rosy shade decorating your cheeks. the moment suddenly imbued to his consciousness. he was glad you two were over the last name barrier.

his dimples deepened as he tilted his body toward you.

satoru didn't believe in love at first sight. he tried convincing his own self that it took him time to be this smitten by you, that it wasn't love at first sight.

when he told suguru about you, the dark haired boy looked at him with a stoic stare with a raised brow. only a brainless person wouldn't have noticed, he had said, with the way satoru was being all over you recently, harassing your personal space when clinging to you and being annoyingly whiny whenever you had to be anywhere else away from him.

suguru did confirm, though, that you didn't mind any of satoru's loud antics, and once he told satoru his thoughts, the squeal the white haired boy left was to bully him forever. suguru decided to let him drown in his own delusions and he'd tease him later.

after the incident with the star plasma vessel, you noticed a subtle change in satoru.

you weren't in jujutsu high when they returned, however you knew there was something off the moment satoru stopped spamming you with text messages.

your flip phone buzzed the whole three days the mission lasted, with messages full of emoticons.

the star plasma vessel is just a loud youngster with no friends! ( ˘︹˘ ) ohh it reminds me of someone~ hahah y/n stappp (╥︣﹏᷅╥) (ง︡'-'︠)ง

we're at the beach! (✿◠‿◠) :D saw a little sea snail n it reminded me of you~ <33 ah satoru have a fun time!! why did it reminded you of me? *u* bc of that back hump bby you gotta work on that (´_ゝ`) enough

however, during the last day his message rate decreased, to the point that by afternoon, you hadn't received a single text from him for hours. you would have thought he was involved in an intense battle, though he would still text you while doing that.

so it was a bit bittersweet to get a solid text almost at night.

suguru and I made it back to the school, hope you're doing ok on your mission:)

you never questioned him what had happened during those three days, but you were certain it had changed him. it was evident when the day you announced you were back at the school, satoru sprinted to check on you. his hands roaming through your face and arms, looking for any cuts or wounds, while murmuring "are you okay" repeatedly under his breath.

you also noticed this new ambition of his of becoming stronger, asking you to randomly throw objects at him to test his limitless, which he now kept it automatically, isolating himself from the rest of the world.

still, you could see through him. you wouldn't insist on him telling you about what happened, but you weren't going to allow him to sulk and seclude himself from you, being by his side and opening your heart to him.

it had took him a week and a half after the star plasma vessel mission for him to go back to his silly self. such assignment left a bitter scar on his heart and soul, one that wasn't your job to heal, but satoru treasured you for it. he needed frequent assurance you were there with him and that you cared for him.

he also realized he was wasting time playing games with you. he was ready to be yours just as you were ready to be his.

and even though satoru gojo didn't believe in love at first sight, he did believe in deep, devoted love. he didn't know he would be as lucky to endure it, but with you, he was prepared to give you his all. even if he keeps lying to himself he didn't fall for you when you laughed at his confetti cannon.

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks <3 guys I really wanna make a pt 2 of this I think I can do much better

[awrkive]

[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.

you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)

WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)

WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)

NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️

‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE

You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.

Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.

You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.

When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.

Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?

You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!

Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.

Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.

"God."

As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.

"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.

Oh my god. You wanted to cry.

You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."

Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.

Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.

You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.

Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.

He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.

Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.

"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"

You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."

He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.

"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.

"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.

Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.

Ugh.

"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.

But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.

You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.

"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.

"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.

You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.

But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.

"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.

Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."

"Hm?"

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.

"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.

So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.

"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.

"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.

You shrug. "Yeah, well."

You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.

"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.

"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.

"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.

"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."

"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.

"So…?"

You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.

"Okay, sure." You shrug.

"Fuck, you're the best."

This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.

You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.

Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."

You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.

"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.

"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."

You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.

Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.

He stops kissing you.

"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."

Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.

"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.

You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."

"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."

You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.

But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."

You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.

Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.

Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.

It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.

Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."

You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.

When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.

As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.

What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.

"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.

"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."

He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.

The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.

"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly

"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."

And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.

"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.

"Good girl."

And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.

"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.

"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.

Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.

Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?

"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."

You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.

"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.

And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.

So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.

When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.

"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.

He only let out a non-committal hum.

"Jungkook."

"Yes, baby?"

"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.

"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.

"Thanks, I guess."

Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.

"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."

You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.

Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."

"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."

Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."

"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.

"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."

You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?

"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"

Oh god, your essay. Right.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.

Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."

That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.

"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."

You think you'll start doing it more, too.

all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023

[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

[yawnderu]

Hi~

Can we have a smut fic between könig and sniper reader?

With the reader being a calm and polite woman (25+ years old?) who minds her business, yet she is "despised" by our colonel because of her role.

Ps: you can eventually not write it now, but it would be funny seeing colonel könig despising her for after a while fucking her

Hiii sweetheart!! Honestly? I feel like this man is an absolute cunt simply because you're living his dream at a younger age. Shit, he's fucking good at aiming and can stay still for hours, why do you have to be the sniper for the team when he's perfectly capable of fulfilling the role? Sure, he's a giant and he'd be easily spotted, but still. Logic doesn't have a place in his head, not when he's green with envy.

''You forgot to sign here.'' His gloved finger points the spot that you missed, barely even able to keep your eyes open as he forces you down on his cock again, stretching you open over and over while your shaky hand tries to reach for the pen, only to be interrupted by deeper, hard thrusts.

''Snipers are supposed to keep their hands steady.'' He scolds, the small whine escaping your lips only earns you a hard squeeze on the tits, fingers toying with your nipples and pulling while you try your best to keep a steady hand despite the way your colonel uses your sopping cunt as a fleshlight.

''And they're meant to be quiet.'' He doesn't allow you to make a single noise despite how good you're feeling, the stimulation of it all becoming too much, yet the need to prove yourself to him.

''That's a good sniper— quiet like a mouse, ja?'' You know he's teasing you, able to hear the humor in his voice despite the way he's fucking you while you try your best to sign the document he gave you. His hands grasp your hips as he thrusts into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over, the stimulation pushing you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens up around him as you finally give up, a whiny moan escaping your lips when your orgasm hits, tears rimming your eyelids at the way the rough material of his gloves begins to rub away at your clit, intensifying the sensation yet overwhelming you quickly. He cums soon after, ropes of thick, fertile cum shooting up right into your willing cervix. Maybe if he gets you pregnant and out of the team, he can take your role.

Bullet shells fall to the floor in the shooting range, mag dumping on a poor paper dummy minutes after you told him you'll miss training because you got your period and can barely move.

[seattlesellie]

Can you write an ellie fic where she's getting off to photos of reader and moaning readers name and reader walks in on her

million times yes <3 ☁️🤍🐚🌫️

warnings: mdni!, masturbation, ellie’s a little bit of a weirdo, ellie gets caught.

Oops ♡

For you, being Ellie’s roommate was... hard. Unwashed dishes, the occasional sight of her boxer briefs messily laying around on the living room floor (“They fell from the laundry basket” she told), old crumpled yellow papers on the fuzzy carpet, an unwashed ashtray and a shit-ton of disorganized cards and pins adorning every single corner of the apartment.

But for for Ellie, oh, for Ellie it was even harder.

She always had a soft spot for things she’d never get. Your empty shampoo bottles never bothered her, neither did your habit of constantly forgetting to blow out the vanilla scented candles you lit once in a while, even after she told you they could be a fire hazard every. single. time.

What bothered Ellie, weren’t your complains, and neither were the repeating sounds and buzzes of your alarm clock followed by exactly eight hits on the snooze button (she counts, the walls are pretty thin).

What bothered Ellie, is that you didn’t give a single fuck about her. Or at least, that’s what she had convinced herself of.

When you’d lounge pretty on the couch, nestled within a cozy woolen blanket, your fingers tirelessly swiping and swiping and swiping through every single dating app known to man, she’d watch you intently, and stare.

It wasn’t because she was judging you, god knows she had a tinder phase herself (Amanda was her last straw. she said Ellie talked about her roommate “too much”, that she “needed to figure that shit out”, and then added a huff and a sigh followed by a “fucking lesbians, man”)

It was because she didn’t fucking get it. Could you not see what’s right in front of you? you didn't seem to... grasp the obvious. Don’t get it wrong, Ellie was not overconfident, and neither was she cocky. She just… noticed. She was observant by nature, and she knew, she was convinced shed never heard you laugh the way you do with her, with anybody else in the world. When your best friends were over for a girls night— even then, she would hear muted laughter and the occasional screech (barely audible over the backdrop of "The Smiths" blaring through her headphones) but never, ever, did that breathy, real, borderline on wheezing sound escape your mouth when you were with them. It was idly saved for her.

She’d take her earphones out— because perhaps she’d missed it, maybe she was delusional, maybe you did laugh like that— and then, plug them back in when she was met with silence or the gentle symphony of peaceful snores, and return to the solace of her music. She’d hollow in deep slumber, and have incredibly bizarre dreams of her pretty roommate roaming and floating around the apartment only in her underwear— and for some reason, a horn on her head. Dreams were fucking weird, man.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“The Truman Show” played on tv. Jim Carey just made a funny face, and Ellie shoved another slice of greasy, brooklyn pizza in her mouth. She chewed, loudly (you sighed) and wiped her lips on her shoulder.

“I’d literally lose it if I found out my life was a tv show” you remarked, your eyes shifting from the remaining pizza to the flickering television screen.

“Meh” Ellie shrugged.

“I’d lose it if it was a video game though. Imagine if like— someone controlled every single movement you made… scary, man”

She huffed, and threw the pizza crust on the table. It fell on the floor. These fucking ants would come again, you knew they would! you gave her a stern look.

“Sorry” she softly sighed, and bent down to pick the crust off the pavement. Her boxers poked through her sweats, you looked across the room, and then you looked again. God.

“Plug you on their PS5, and go… ham and stuff” you giggled.

“Wild shit…” she shrugged. “Wild shit”

Jim Carey’s character just met the deepest corner of its own little world.

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the screen, even though she’d seen that flick about a million times.

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You know she hated when you did that while watching something with her— but you did it anyways. Something about the way her eyebrows scrunched together when she peaked at the screen through the corner of her eye always made your heart flutter. She pouted, and you tried to hide the way your lips curled upwards into a small smile.

“Should I post this on insta?” you questioned, handing ellie your phone. She took it in her hands, and the brightness was so high her eyes twinkled.

She bit her bottom lip, and then her top one.

“You’re like… half naked in that” she huffed. She wasn’t wrong, the bikini was so so tiny and the salt water covering your body, making it practically glisten in the sun, didn’t help the sensual undertones of said picture.

“I know” you stated.

She looked at you, and then looked at the screen again. Don’t look too long, she thought to herself. She handed the phone back to you, and stared at the television. Great, she just missed the best part!

“Is that a no?” you quipped.

“That’s a… who are you posting that for?” she tried asking casually, and mask her jealousy with curiosity.

There must be someone. there just must. Perhaps it’s for that girl you talked to on Bumble… shit, maybe its for that blonde from work or the one with the long braids that waved to you for too long who Ellie had made her arch enemy. Or maybe it was for that fucking ex girl—

“Why would you think I’m posting it… for someone?”

Ellie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Cause you look good in it.”

She gulped, and moved a hair strand from her face. it itched, all of a sudden.

“Or like— you look naked or something.”

You rolled your eyes back, and yawned.

“Is that a no?” you questioned.

“No what?” she snickered.

“Is that a no i shouldn’t post?” you removed a microscopic piece of lint that landed on her hoodie, it made her shiver.

She let out a shaky breath, and toyed with the string that hung loose from her black nike socks.

“Why are you askin’ if you’re gonna post it anyways?”

You smirked. For some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on, sometimes, conversations with her weren’t exactly easy.

“Who said i’ll post? I asked you because I needed your advice”

“Sure” she stated, and slid off the couch.

“Post it” she crossed her arms.

You nodded. post!

You already had one like. Oh, it’s that blonde girl from work. fire emoji, winky face emoji, red heart emoji. Nice!

“M’going to bed” she groaned, and shoved a tiny mushroom in her mouth.

“Ugh. gooey”

You looked up from your phone, and shut it off with a click.

“But you’ll miss the best part!” you pouted.

“Tired” she shrugged. Her face scrunched together. how is she so fucking adorable.

“M’kay… night!”

Ellie dragged her body across the dim lit living-room, and almost slipped on one of her socks.

“Mmmmight” she mumbled.

“Say it nicely!” you yelled across the room, it echoed.

“Good nightttt”

The door slammed shut. Ellie sat down on the bed, and stared at the wall. She cracked her knuckles, one by one, and threw her head back on the mattress, wrapped up by green flannel sheets. Her head landed on the pillow with a soft thud, and she took a long, deep breath. She wasn’t even tired, why did she lie?

That image just took over her brain again. She had only glimpsed it briefly, not truly absorbing its details, before reluctantly handing the device back to you. If she stared any longer— her cheeks would burn a bright pink.

The screen of her Android glowed in the darkness, so she grabbed it. Always on silent mode.

A message from Joel; “Got Maria to iron some of your clothes. remember Janet from across the street? She passed away last week, LOL (lots of love).”

Ellie scratched her eyes, chuckled, and took a screenshot. no fucking way.

A message from Dina; “can u send me some lives on candy crush?”

Followed by another one;

“send them right now or die”

So she scrolled some more.

Instagram; “dinawoodward, jessethekinggglol, courtneycameron and others liked this post!”

She tapped, and thats when her eyes popped out of her head. she suddenly felt parched. She looked around the room— that water-bottle she kept from two weeks ago after a trip to the local bodega must be around there somewhere.

It was not, so there you stood, almost half-naked, a playful smile gracing your lips, the sun-kissed sand partially covering your stomach, and the gentle touch of saltwater caressing your chest. A pair of brown sunglasses adorned your face, with the serene sea standing still in the background.

Ellie blinked once. And then once more, and then she zoomed in.

Her face twitched, and her breath hitched inside her throat. It felt as though her breath had been captured and confined, held hostage within her, struggling to find its release.

She double tapped, and began typing;

“If I could, I’d fuck the shit out of you”

She stared at her keyboard, and breathed deeply. What would happen if she, actually pressed send. Would you come barging inside her room and throw something at her? the green colored vase, maybe? or would you delete her comment, pretend it never happened and move on? perhaps you’d think she was just fucking around, and scold her for typing something like that where everyone could see. “You’re such a creep, el!” she could almost hear you say it. And she could almost feel the way your palm would slam right into her shoulder and nudge it her the side. It made her ears feel warm.

She zoomed in on your tits. Ellie’s face flushed a pretty, dusty pink.

Then, she zoomed in on your stomach, and her nipples perked up inside her hoodie. They grazed the material softly, and she let out a shaky breath.

When she zoomed in on your smile, she smirked at the screen. it made her feel warm and fuzzy and happy and she hated every minute of it. “Never gonna get it” echoed in her ears, a reminder of the "truth" tugged at her heart.

When she zoomed in on your covered cunt, she nearly went cross eyed. She could almost see the outline of your lips— or was she tripping?

Her cunt clenched around absolute nothingness inside her boxers. Was she… getting fucking wet over this?

She gulped, as waves of guilt washed over her. and then, she zoomed in on your tits again, and she felt so turned on she couldn’t even remember what the word guilt even meant.

She heard the echo of your giggle reverberating through the corridor, filling the space with a sound that made her stomach turn. the rhythm of your footsteps grew louder, gradually approaching your room situated just across from hers.

Perhaps you chuckled at something amusing one of your fucking bumble buddies had to say. She lightly bumped her forehead against the screen of her phone, her lips pressed together, forming a thin line.

Your door slammed shut, and a tune began.

“you’re so gorgeous… i cant say anything to your face, cause look at your face…”

How fucking ironic.

“Shut up alexa!” you groaned at the device, causing ellie to stifle a giggle, before she felt the pool flow down her boxers.

The apartment descended into a profound silence, save for the sound of Ellie’s labored breaths echoing in the stillness. she leaned in closer, scrutinizing the image on the screen, alternating between zooming in and zooming out, and crosser her legs together.

When the imagination of your bare tits popped up in her mind, your nipple poking through as you held them together on the screen, it ached inside of her.

Would it really be so wrong if she…?

There was no real harm in it, she thought. It was either this, or close her eyes and rub one off in the darkness, and even then— she had a nagging intuition that you would somehow find your way into her thoughts.

Woudl it really make her that much of a fucking pervert?

Ellie groaned, and brought her knees up to her stomach. Her phone was still in her hand, and that picture teased, and teased, and teased till she couldn’t handle it anymore.

Fuck it. if she did this, she was going to do it right. And she needed to see it close up— and not through her cracked fucking screen she wasn’t bothered fixing for two whole weeks now.

She opened the screen of her laptop, and when she sat on the black leather rolling chair, It felt fucking uncomfortable down there. It was sleek, and she could feel her cunt slide off on the fabric of her boxers.

“Fuuuuck me” she hissed under her breath.

www.instagram.com

Right click.

Your profile, right click. Her hand held a tremor.

You were the focal point, the star of the show, illuminating her old, black HP laptop. The screen, adorned with a thin layer of dust, caught her attention. She leaned in and blew gently, causing the particles to disperse and float away.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she continued to gaze intently. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady herself, but the inhalation felt jagged and uneven.

She brought a veiny hand to graze the fabric of her grey colored sweats, just above her clothed cunt, and she felt so fucking relieved.

And it still wouldn’t stop fucking pulsing.

she stared at the bikini, and rubbed her finger up and down slowly, cupped her cunt forcefully, slapped it and whimpered.

“Goddamn” she huffed.

She began tracing big, deliberate circles, her touch slow and steady, causing the fabric of her boxers to cling to her wet cunt.

She had to take them off.

Swiftly, she inserted her thumbs into the edges of her boxers, right at the level of her hipbones, and pulled them down in one fluid motion. The fabric gathered messily around her ankles. She felt so fucking nasty.

Ellie spread her legs, and gasped as the cool air hit her most sensitive place. She waited for a minute, mouth agape, teasing her cunt before she touched it. She swore she could cum with just squeezing in and out while staring at your face.

However, she could not tease herself anymore when those thoughts began forming clearer and clearer.

She brought a long finger and caressed her slit slowly from her hole to her puffy little clit. "Oh fuck yes" she hissed.

It started with thinking about your tits. Her mind wandered, and her hole leaked into the leather chair, forming a small droplet to lay down on it. She breathed heavily.

The thought of you, taking off that bikini top in front of her went through her mind. Slow, deliberate process of undoing its strings, so so agonizingly slow. When they spilled out, ellie let out a high pitched moan.

“Touch them, Ellie” you whispered in her ear.

“Please touch me…” you whined.

She gasped, took two fingers, her middle and her ring, and formed tiny, slow circles on her wet clit. Ellie spread her legs wide, and placed them on the table.

It looked absolutely obscene.

In reality, Ellie was touching herself to a picture on a slightly dusty old screen. In her imagination, you stood pretty begging her for more. Your fucking whines did it for her, and she didn’t even know what they sounded like for real.

You circled your nipples, pinched them and spat a glob of saliva, letting it streamline down your tits, teasing ellie so bad she was already panting. They glistened, and ellie latched on to them, sucking and spitting and whimpering groaning.

“So good Ellie...” you moaned, holding the back of her hand and pushing her deeper.

“I want you so fucking bad”

“Holy fucking shit” she hissed, and slapped her clit. one slap! two slaps! she was desperate.

“Fuuuck yes” she whimpered, and plunged a finger inside her aching hole. It sucked her completely in, clenching around her fingers. She gasped, and slid off the chair.

She was staring at your fucking cunt with her eyes half shut. she swore she could see those fucking lips.

Now, Ellie’s mind took a turn. You laid pretty on her bed, chest heaving up and down, legs spread completely open with a pink vibrator buzzing on your clit.

“Ellie!” you moaned.

“Fuck me... please please please"

She plunged a second finger, and bucked her hips inwards and backwards. She whimpered, and a shaky breath followed by the sound of your name escaped her quivering lips.

“Need you in my pussy… p—pretty please”

She swore she could hear you say it.

Ellie pounced on her bed and savored you whole. she bit your clit, sucked on it and got her entire face wet with your juices.

“God yes” she groaned, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. She pumped them in and out, and in and out again, whilst the other hand was circling itself fast on her needy, pulsating clit. Every few seconds, she’d slap it again, open wider and wider, bucking and riding them so hard she could almost see a supernova right in front of her.

The dull ache in her pussy grew bigger and bigger.

“You need me? fucking whore” she whispered under her breath.

Thin, shiny, sticky drool flowed from the corner of her mouth, it landed on the top of her hoodie.

“Yes Ellie… please Ellie need you in my pussy” She pumped them profusely, feeling your walls take her in like she needed to. When she pumped them inside of herself— That’s what she liked to imagine. It was you, who took her in. They were your walls, your wet cunt begging and screaming for more.

She felt it coming in the pits of her stomach. It grew bigger and bigger, like a wave, or a volcano, threatening to erupt and make her cream all over her chair.

“Ellie yesyesyesyes!” you moaned.

She circled faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing up and down with every movement of her hips. The chair squeaked, but she couldn't be bother to take it slow.

“Ellie?” your voice echoed through the corridor.

“Yeah baby s— say my fucking name, fuck” she hissed, her eyes completely shut.

“Ellie?”

God, it felt so fucking real. Almost there. She bit her lip, and it drew blood.

The door collided with the wall, hitting it with a loud thud.

“Ellie?”

“N— fuNgh”

She almost screamed so loud the gods could hear. she shut her laptop off before even pulling her fingers out.

She was going to fucking faint.

Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson, intense embarrassment radiating from her form, hands trembling uncontrollably, and the expression on her face was one of sheer horror— wide eyed.

She got caught.

"What..." you uttered, your voice trailing off as you stood frozen in place, your mouth agape. Your knees threatened to give way beneath you.

You shut the door.

Ellie, her chest heaving, struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my—“

“God”

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else

Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.

"Yah, what's that smell?”

You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”

"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”

"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.

Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.

This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.

"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.

Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."

Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.

The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"

Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.

Yeonjun

When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.

"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."

He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"

"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."

His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"

You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”

Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu

Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.

You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.

"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.

"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"

He pouts. "You smell like not you."

Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."

You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."

He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"

He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you say tiredly.

As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."

Taehyun

Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"

He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.

"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"

Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."

You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.

"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.

Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"

Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."

Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.

"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.

You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."

He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?

Huening Kai

He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.

You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”

“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”

“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.

“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.

Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.

“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.

"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."

Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.

Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."

You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"

The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[happy74827]

Fate’s Design

[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}

WC: 2051

Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)

Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.

In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭

But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)

『••✎••』

Funny, how the world works, how fate works.

The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.

A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.

Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.

When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.

Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.

Carlisle Cullen.

You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.

How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?

You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.

Enough for you to know that you loved him.

How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.

You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.

But you were human; he was not.

You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.

You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.

Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.

You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.

He was worth it, and you knew it.

And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.

After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.

You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.

The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.

You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.

You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.

"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."

He tilted his head in confusion.

Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.

"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."

Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.

It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.

"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.

And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.

You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.

And then, a gush of wind.

Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.

Just inches away from your head.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.

He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.

This was what you wanted, after all.

So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.

A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.

And all you could think about was his lips.

"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."

"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."

"I'm being realistic."

"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."

"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"

His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.

But you stopped yourself.

It was only right to hear what he had to say.

"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"

His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.

"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"

You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.

"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."

Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.

"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."

The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.

"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"

Silence.

He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.

He deserved the world.

And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.

"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.

"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."

He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.

It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.

"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.

"Toss you aside?"

There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.

You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.

A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.

He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.

Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.

It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.

"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.

"A complete and utter fool."

You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.

But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.

"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."

You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.

It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.

"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"

"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.

"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."

You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.

You should've, but you didn't.

All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.

You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.

He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.

You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.

He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.

When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.

"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"

"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."

You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.

This.

This was right.

It was perfect, and the world was a better place.

The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.

The two of you were living proof.

[hatsukeii]

i’m fully convinced that inumaki is the funniest mf in the world but just can’t show it because he can only speak in onigiri ingredients

so then in person he tries to make onigiri ingredients sound like brainrot jokes like imagine you ask him smth and he’s like “they tuna on my mayo till i onigiri” then just walks away and you’re standing there trying to decipher it

imagine the current state of the youth and then make it actually funny and you’ve got toge inumaki right here

also he’d definitely be a sucker for every single catchphrase that comes out on tt like catch him scrambling for paper when you annoy him the slightest bit just so he can write out “see how i shut the fuck up? very demure, very mindful” and you have to remind him that he doesn’t have a choice and has to stay silent most the time