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mickandmusings · 11 months ago

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third times the charm

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?

aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.

warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry

shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)

"What do you mean you're leaving?!"

Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.

"I'm leavin', simple as that."

"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"

He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.

"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.

It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.

Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.

"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"

She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.

"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"

Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.

"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."

"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.

"You know I can't."

She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.

"C-call me when you get there?"

He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.

"You'll be the first person I call, baby."

Y/N's call never came.

She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.

ii.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.

Tyler Owens.

She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.

With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.

"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"

"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."

She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.

"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.

"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."

She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.

"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."

She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.

"Stop the truck!"

He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.

"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"

The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.

"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"

Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.

"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"

She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.

"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"

He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"

"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"

"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.

It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.

He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.

Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.

When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.

iii.

"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"

Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.

His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.

Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.

"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.

"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."

"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"

Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.

"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."

Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.

"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."

She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.

"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."

"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."

She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."

Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.

"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"

She pauses, realizing how vague that was.

"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"

She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.

"Tyler listen-"

"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."

She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.

"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."

He laughs with her.

"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"

She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.

"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."

"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."

She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.

"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."

Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.

"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."

Her statement is laced with sarcasm.

Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.

"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."

"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."

Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.

"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."

Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.

"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.

"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"

He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.

"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"

She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.

"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."

She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.

"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #twisters #glen powell #Tyler Owens x you #glen powell x reader #glen powell x you

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littlexdeaths · 11 months ago

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she fuckin’ hates me - e.m.

enemy eddie munson x fem reader x crush steve harrington

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: hate fucking, semi-public sex, mean!dom eddie (he’s secretly down so bad), fingering, they both call each names (slut, brat, asshole, dickhead), big dick eddie, unprotected piv sex (the condom breaks oops), unintentional cream pie, little sprinkle of angst

a/n: this is entirely inspired by that one audio by eyesofsuggestion (getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend).

word count: 3.5k

also huge shoutout to both @strangerstilinski and @uglypastels for helping me so much. i appreciate the hell out of you both. and also to @lesservillain for giving me the condom idea. enjoy my lil freaks xx.

“Looks like someone’s not enjoying the party…”

You barely register his deep voice over the thumping bass from inside the house when you stomp out onto the patio.

The night air feels nearly as sticky as inside the house, the amount of bodies pressing together causing the temperature to skyrocket.

But the moment you see his lanky figure leaning against the side of Steve’s house and the burning cherry of his cigarette in the dark— you’re half tempted to turn around.

You were already having a terrible night to begin with but you weren’t about to let Eddie Munson make it any worse for you. Knowing this was partially his fault to begin with.

“What‘s it to you, Munson?” you spit.

His answering chuckle has you gritting your teeth, tucking your skirt under yourself as you sit on the patio steps.

“Oh nothing…” he hums, taking another long drag from his cigarette. “It’s just hard not to notice how you’ve been throwing yourself at Steve all night.”

While you hate to admit it, and you wouldn’t out loud— Eddie was right.

You’d gone out of your way to pretty yourself up for him, wearing your lowest cut blouse and your shortest skirt in hopes of getting his attention. You stayed by his side, laughed at all his jokes. Despite all the effort you put in, Steve barely spared you a passing glance.

It was such a total switch from how he was acting towards you the previous weekend. Steve had barely got you in his bedroom before his hands were in your pants. But now he was too busy shoving his tongue down a pretty blonde’s throat to even notice your absence.

“I haven’t been throwing myself at anyone, dickhead,” you roll your eyes with a scoff.

Eddie just laughs again, leaning his head back against the siding. “I wouldn’t have assumed Steve’s dick game was so good that you’d be crawling back for sloppy seconds.”

And when you turn to glare at him, you can’t help but admire the way the smoke unfurls from his plump lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, prick.”

“— Hey now,” he mocked you with a slight pout, “Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me, princess. I was just stating the obvious.”

You avert your eyes before he catches you staring, but that frustration mixed with unkindled desire continues to mount between you with each passing second.

So when your eyes are drawn back to him, you aren’t entirely sure why.

As annoying as Eddie could be, you can’t deny that he was attractive. And if his shitty attitude towards you wasn’t the reason that Steve kept blowing you off, maybe you’d actually like him.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“— you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he teases.

While your face shows mock disgust, your body betrays you when you feel wetness beginning to pool in the fabric of your panties.

“In your dreams, Munson.”

Eddie smirks a little, taking that as a challenge.

“What are you, scared?”

Under normal circumstances, you’d tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. Perhaps it was your hormones getting the best of you.

But there was something about the way the moonlight catches on his rings, and the pale glow that casts shadows over his handsome features— that’s making you think otherwise.

“I mean… I don’t see anyone else lining up to take that bratty ass of yours home.” Eddie takes one last, long drag but this time he notices the way your eyes linger on his lips.

You make it almost too easy.

“And it would be a damn shame to let all that hard work of yours go to waste, you know?” he continues casually while he snuffs out his cigarette. “Since Harrington, clearly isn’t appreciating it.”

And you really can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Eddie closes the remaining distance between you, causing your head to tilt back as you look up at him in utter disbelief.

“Don’t act so coy, I saw how you were looking at me just now…”

Beneath his cocky demeanor, his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

Because unbeknownst to you, the real reason Steve was avoiding you at every turn was entirely for Eddie's benefit. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Eddie holds up his hand before you can say anything else, his lips lifting in a shit eating grin.

“Besides, we both know that if it’s not for me, you’ll be going home with an empty cunt. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Your body flushes at the vulgarity of his words, but you mull them over nonetheless.

While you didn’t like him, despised him in fact— this could be an opportunity to get some pent up frustration out of your system. Since it was clear Steve wasn’t up for the challenge.

So you tuck your lower lip in between your teeth and you rise to your feet.

“Fine,” you hum and there’s a sudden flash of surprise in his eyes. Like he half expected you to tell him to go fuck himself and storm off, but it’s gone just as quickly. “On one condition.”

The patio steps put you an inch or so above him, so now he has to look up to meet your gaze.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, princess?” he smirks.

You grip the fabric of his t-shirt in your fists, urging him closer. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your breasts now flush against his chest.

“You keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

And you use the advantage of your slight height difference to press your lips to his before he has a chance to respond.

Eddie all but groans into your mouth as tugs you closer, hands gripping onto your hips before splaying over the curve of your ass. When he slips his tongue in your mouth, he tastes like a dizzying combination of nicotine and cheap beer.

But the taste somehow leaves you wanting more.

So when you start to grind yourself onto his jean-clad thigh, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. The male fully enjoys the pitiful whimper it pulls from you.

“If you think I’m fucking you out here… you’re out of your goddamn mind,” he pants into your open mouth.

“Well if you had somewhere else in mind maybe you should try taking the reins, hotshot,” you fire back.

Eddie takes a single step up the stairs to place himself at eye level with you, as if to even the playing field.

And you just stare at each other, both your eyes are ablaze with a mixture of annoyance and lust. It's Eddie who eventually breaks your gaze to brush past you and continue on towards the house.

He dares a glance over his shoulder once he reaches the patio door, a brow rising beneath his bangs as if to give you one final chance to back out. But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

No one spares either of you a second glance when he leads you up the stairs and pulls you into the first bedroom on the right.

You know upon entering that this is Steve’s room, recognizing the checkered wallpaper from the weekend prior. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it before his lips are back on yours and he’s leading you towards his best friend’s bed.

“In here?” you say between heated kisses, earning you a deep hum when he pushes you down onto the mattress.

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” he mused, dark eyes admiring the way your skirt has risen up your thighs. “Unless… you really wanna make him jealous.”

Eddie crawls over you after shrugging off his leather jacket and you can already feel how hard he is through the rough denim. You tug harshly on his hair when his lips trail down across your neck, teeth scraping against the hollow of your throat.

But the ache between your thighs only becomes stronger with each press of his lips, and in turn causes your already thin patience to slip further.

“Get on with it already, I don’t have all damn night.”

You can feel his laughter vibrate against your sweaty skin but his hand dips between your thighs nonetheless. Eddie cups your clothed pussy in the palm of his hand, pulling a breathy whine from you when he presses the heel of it against your clit.

“Hmm, givin' an awful lot of attitude to someone who's just tryin’ to do you a favor, sweetheart.”

You merely roll your eyes in response, reaching between your bodies to palm over the bulge that’s straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Huh, seems to me that you like my little attitude, asshole.”

The male groans into your neck when you apply more pressure, his hand quickly gripping onto your wrist before he pins the both of them above your head.

“Ya’know I usually love a bit of a challenge, but you sweetheart, are a giant pain in the ass.”

You giggle mockingly, tilting your head at him with a slight pout, “Aww, Eddie— I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

If only you knew…

That laughter morphs into a soft gasp when he yanks your panties down your thighs with his other hand. Those calloused fingers slipping between your slick folds to circle over your swollen bud.

His nose skims along the curve of your shoulder, greedily inhaling your perfume. Enjoying the way your body practically shudders beneath his own.

“So sensitive…” he coos mockingly, the tip of his middle finger brushing over your puckered hole. “And I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

Any snarky comment dies on your tongue when he slips the digit inside, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. A small mewl gets caught in your throat when he slides another finger in and your body welcomes the stretch.

Eddie can only grin wider when you grind your hips down onto his fingers, his other hand releases your wrists to tug down the front of your blouse to free your breasts. He has to hold back a moan of his own when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, his lips latching around your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your fingers tangling themselves in his wild mane while his curl up inside you.

“If only Steve could see how much of a fucking mess you’re making for me,” he taunts, leaning his mouth down to suck on the underside of your breast. “Bet he’d be so pissed that you’re ruining his expensive sheets, sweetheart.”

Your answering whimper has him chuckling, urging him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you. Ultimately proving his point as you can feel the wetness dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. But the noisy glide of his fingers are nearly as taunting as his words.

“E-Eddie— I…” your chest heaves as you trail off, feeling that rubber band in your middle about to snap with each pump of his fingers.

He knows what that blissful look on your face means and it brings him a little too much pleasure to see it crumble when he completely removes his fingers from inside you. Your cry of frustration has his cock practically throbbing in his jeans, sticky fingers hurrying to unbuckle his belt.

“Nah uh,” he tuts. “You don’t always get what you want, brat.”

Eddie pushes his jeans and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, the sight of it momentarily distracting you.

He was big, much bigger than you anticipated.

Part of you was almost worried he wasn’t going to fit. Eddie must see the mixture of surprise and awe written across your features, as he leans forward to swipe his thumb along the corner of your mouth.

“Drooling already? You flatter me, sweetheart.”

He reaches over for a condom in Steve’s bedside drawer, ripping the packet open with his teeth. But Eddie can practically see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he rolls the latex on, which only causes him to laugh harder.

“Oh how cute, you thought I was gonna fill you up, baby?” he all but sneers as he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together. “A slut like you has to earn that privilege.”

He lets go of your cheeks, ringed fingers spreading your thighs apart and pulling you down toward the edge of the mattress. Positioning you in just the right spot so he can tap the head of his cock against your clit.

The wet slapping noise it makes has him grinning even wider and it takes everything in you not to slap that look right off his face.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna actually fuck me?” you huff.

He tilts his head at you, a little surprised by your sudden outburst. And to think you were being so good just a minute ago.

“See, that’s not what we’re going to do, brat.” He clicks his tongue, his other hand gripping the meat of your thighs a little harder. “Keep giving me that attitude and I’ll have no issue walking out of here and burying my cock into someone else.”

You just glare at each other, in a silent struggle for power. But this time you are the first to crack when you cast your eyes downward. That uncomfortable silence stretches on for a moment too long, which he mistakes for regret.

He’s about to tuck himself back into his jeans when you grip onto his wrist with a soft whine.

“N-No, shit— please don’t go.”

Eddie just raises an eyebrow at you, not impressed by that meek attempt at begging. So you blow out the breath you were holding, swallowing your pride when your eyes flick up to meet his.

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please.”

You feel incredibly pathetic begging Eddie Munson of all people. But you also can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs when you feel the thick head of his cock glide against your entrance.

“See? Now was that so hard?” he snickers, giving you no warning before he’s guiding the head inside your sopping cunt.

“Jesus— fuck, you’re tight,” he blurts, marveling as your pussy practically sucks him in.

You let out a gasp when he bottoms out with a low hiss, his own head tipping backwards when you clench harder around him. But the male doesn’t move a muscle, his hands gripping onto your hips to keep you in place.

An act of mercy really— he doesn’t want to hurt you.

While you are grateful for the reprieve, that slight sting soon fades into a dull ache and you desperately need more.

When Eddie feels you start to squirm in his grasp, he groans low in his throat. His head tips back down to meet your half lidded gaze while he carefully guides his cock out before sliding it back in.

He works up a steady rhythm, but slow enough to keep you both teetering on the edge of desperation— until you can’t take it anymore.

“God— go faster,” your attempt at a direct order comes out as more a breathy plea instead.

But he doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands coaxing your trembling legs over his shoulders before slamming his hips back into yours. An elated moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping onto the sheets as you eagerly meet each hard thrust he gives you.

“It’s too bad Harrington’s missin’ out on all this,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as he watches that creamy ring around his cock expand with each snap of his hips. “But I can put in a really good word for ya, princess.”

And when your eyes roll back, it’s not from annoyance this time— as he hits your sweet spot dead on.

“I hate you,” you huff regardless, but your words don’t hold nearly as much malice.

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You miss the smug look that crosses his features when your back arches up off the mattress and you cry out his name repeatedly.

“That’s it, brat— say my name louder. Let them know… let Steve know who’s making you feel this good.”

Your nails dig into his forearms as he fucks you even faster, a low growl pushing past his lips with each hard thrust. The bed creaks harshly in protest but that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.

If anything— it encourages him to go harder, bucking into you like some wild animal. The little uh, uh uh’s that he pushes out of you are music to his ears, the sounds becoming higher in pitch the closer you get to the edge.

And when your eyes flutter shut, he only quickened his pace. The brunette practically bends you in half as he leans into you, this new angle forcing him even deeper.

“Look.” Grunt. “At.” Grunt. “Me.” Grunt.

In your blissed out state, you miss the hidden meaning behind his pointed words.

When you manage to finally open them, he’s closer. A lot closer than you expected. So close you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the sweat that dots his upper lip.

Maybe you’ve never wanted to admit it to yourself before, but Eddie really was gorgeous. And from the way he’s gazing down at you, pupils blown out and glassy, you can only assume he feels the same about you.

And that last bit of self control slips when you smash your lips together.

He kisses you back just as forcefully, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. Gasping for breath, your fingers begin to loosen their grip on his arm. Slipping them between your bodies to rub quick circles over your swollen bud.

The sensation has your walls squeezing tighter around him, earning you another throaty moan.

“See how much easier you are to deal with like this, baby?” He mumbles against your mouth, enjoying the small scowl that crosses over your features. “All cockdrunk and stupid… it suits you.”

While you open your mouth to throw one last insult his way, a pointed thrust into your sweet spot has you trembling. A loud squeal leaving your lips instead when you tumble over the edge.

And Eddie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart beneath him, memorizing each expression with the utmost sincerity. Even if you did hate him, he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, atta girl…” he praises, his hot breath fanning over your lips while he continues to bury himself inside you.

You feel the sudden snap of the latex before he does. The male blissfully unaware as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and finishes with a deep groan, unintentionally filling you up in the process.

“Hm, guess I got what I wanted after all,” you laugh a little breathlessly.

Eddie lifts his head in confusion, the realization finally dawns on him when he feels his warmth start to trickle down your thighs.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He curses as he pulls out, making an even bigger mess of both you and the sheets in the process.

“Stupid, fucking cheap ass condoms,” he huffs under his breath, chucking the broken rubber into the trash.

Although his jaw is clenched in annoyance, his eyes are now transfixed on where his cum begins to leak out of your puffy pussy and onto the bedspread.

Unable to stop himself, Eddie reaches out a hand to graze along the underside of your ass. He collects some of the mess on his fingertips and guides them back inside you.

And despite the sensitivity, the possessiveness of his actions has your walls clenching around his dexterous fingers.

Everything comes to a sudden halt when the bedroom door swings open, knocking into the wall.

“Alright you horny shits, time to…” Steve trails off once he sees the two of you, honey hues widening in disbelief. “In my bed, Munson? Really?”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, merely straightening up from where he was hovering over your half naked form whilst you quickly tug the sheets over yourself from sheer embarrassment.

Now all Eddie can see is the way you're looking at Steve. Something sour settles in his stomach, a tangle of jealousy and hurt. While his heart rate slows, his defenses go back up.

That feeling prickles along his skin as he tucks himself back into his boxers and re-fastens the button on his jeans.

"Was just warmin' her up for ya, man," Eddie says through his teeth.

Steve's look of confusion deepens as he glances between the two of you, knowing that this is exactly what Eddie had wanted.

But now Eddie won’t even look at you.

He doesn't see the conflicted emotions swimming in your eyes when he speaks again. Throwing the words over his shoulder without a second glance as he grabs his jacket and turns to leave.

"She's all yours, Harrington."

That lie burns on his tongue like acid, but he doesn't look back.

taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @popbangcrash @corrodedcorpses @demibats @hellfire--cult @calumfmu @bastardstevie @emmypoisonedqueen @probablyin-bed @luv4peterba1lard @stolen-in-moonlight @potatobeans99 @your-nightmaredoll @rebelfell @josephquinnsfreckles @chaptersleftunwritten @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @callsignmedusa @splendiferous-bitch @spenciesprincess @creepycranberry @idkwhattoputhere08 @obsessed-midwest-princess @joequiinn @celestialbat @rosekicks @not-my-lover @alba8688 @kellsck sorry if i missed anyone!

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x steve harrington #enemy!eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson oneshot #[ the munson files ]

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junnieverse · 3 months ago

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— PING 💬 TEXTS WITH ENHYPEN !

➙ pictures the enhypen members have sent you of your boyfriend jungwon

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader

genre: mixture of fluff and crack

request: “ hihiiii i have a small request. Can you please make a jungwon ver of 'pictures the enhypen members have sent you of your boyfriend' ? appreciate and love your work! ” + “ hiii, could you do pictures enhypen would send you (gender neutral or preferably male reader) of bf Jungwon ?? ”

warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread, some images were edited/resized, reader jokingly refers to ni-ki as a ‘headass’, mentions of alcohol/drinking

a/n: during the time i wasn’t posting i received two of the same request, so thank you so much for your support to my readers and this request, I hope it’s to both your liking, xx [REBLOGS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!]

a/n (2): shoutout to the riki slides and being referred to as a “bowl of rice” is reference to something I called myself last week when I was sleep deprived omw to write a test :D

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

🖇️ — 西村力 ; NI-KI !

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ethelcainscloset · 3 months ago

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ethel cain wears circle logo cropped sweater, runway cargo pants, and bolo tie by heaven by marc jacobs (shoutout @heavnarchive love u xx)

#ethel cain #hayden anhedönia #heaven by marc jacobs #tops #pants #accessories

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pascalpvnk · 1 year ago

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take it from me

pairing: bilingual!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

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thatsdemko · 1 year ago

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unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

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the-lazyyy-artist · 21 days ago

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Roommates Wanted! fem!reader x o. aiku x s. ryusei x i. sae introduction

summary: a front desk officer, a professor, an MMA instructor, and an editor walked into a room... what do you get?

tags and themes: roommates au, first meetings, slight crack, very ooc, soccer doesn't exist here

author's note: just a little peek of my take on the roommate au. Also, shoutout to @cheralith for inspiring me with her own fic series - apartment 345. Check that out, it's a fucking masterpiece!!

Check out the Masterlist!!

Divider from @uzmacchiato

For Rent

4-Bedroom Apartment, 1 Bath

Please Call: xxxx-xxxx-xx

Address: XXXXXX

You look at the posting on your phone as you stand at the apartment building in front of you. You have always wanted to rent out an apartment, anyway. And to have roommates? That’s something you’ve always wanted to experience. Living alone in a sad hotel room for 2 years has stunted your ability to see the sun and socialize. So this is a good option.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a small lobby. Well, it wasn’t much of a lobby anyway. There was a small desk manned by a teenage boy, around 17, you assumed. You smiled at him and asked him about the posting. “Ah, you’re here for it too?” He asked, smiling widely. “That makes two of you, then.”

“Two?” you asked, and he gestured to a gentleman sitting on the plush bench across the room. He waved at you, and you waved back, a little shy. “You can sign here first.” The boy handed you a logbook, and you signed your name and your purpose of visit. “My aunt will be here in a while. Have a seat.” And sit, you did. You gave a few inches of space between you and the shaggy-haired man, and you started to look around the interior of the small lobby. “Here for the posting?” He asked, his voice deep and smooth. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes falling to meet his… his heterochromic ones. Wow, you thought. It was the first time you saw eyes like this up close. He must’ve noticed because a lazy grin graced his lips. “You work in a hotel… Y/N?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to how he guessed your name right. He then gestured to the name plate on the left side of your chest, with the hotel’s logo and your name engraved on it. You scoffed lightly and moved to remove it, something you usually do when you leave work. “Ah, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “You?”

“Middle school teacher,” He replied with an air of coolness in his demeanor. No wonder he felt like someone you could easily approach. “Wanna guess what subject?”

“Uh,” you bit your bottom lip as you read him. You pride yourself at being pretty good at this. “Science.” The man chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “No, no. But kinda close. I teach Health and Sex Ed.” You raised your brows at him, and before you could ask, he spoke again. “It’s an interesting subject. And I want to be the one to teach young minds about their bodies and how they work before anyone gives them the wrong idea.”

You nodded, understanding. Pretty passionate, you thought. Just then, footsteps can be heard descending the stairs, and a lady, probably around her 50s, approached you and the man. “Oh, our applicants,” she chimed. “Come, you two. Let me give you a tour of the room.”

The room was on the fourth floor, and by the time you reached the top, your legs were jelly. Stiletto heels and stairs aren’t a good combination, and add the fact that you had a hard shift that day. The lady unlocked the room, and you and the man entered. It was bare for now, but what really made your heart feel at home was the amount of sunlight that streamed through the windows. Airflow was wonderful too. The man moved further into the room and found himself in the kitchen. You heard him hum as he looked around the cupboards, as if thinking about what items to put in them. “The four bedrooms are down the hall, all facing each other. You can check the rooms,” the lady said, prompting you to go further.

You and the man took turns checking the rooms, and you had already decided which one would be yours. “So?” The man asked. “Already decided?”

“What?”

“I’m clearly liking the place, Y/N.”

“You… want to rent this place with me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Roommates.”

You looked at him for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, sure. That could work. All we have to do is look for the last two to rent the rooms.”

In the end, the apartment was officially yours and…

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked the man as you walked out of the apartment building. “You already know mine, so I should at least know yours now that we’re going to be roommates.” The man smiled at you and showed you his ID instead.

Oliver Aiku.

You moved in immediately since your time is quite limited. Aiku moved that weekend. You also made sure to discuss the boundaries and rules that the apartment should have with Aiku, and he understood. You put him in charge of looking for roommates, as you sent him the design you made on a whim to attract applicants.

“Didn’t know you were a graphic designer too,” he joked, sitting at the dinner table with you. You sat across him, and you kicked his leg under the table. He let out an “ow” as you laughed. “I did my best, professor,” you replied. “You know how busy we get at the hotel.” You heard him laugh softly as he examined the design you made, zooming in on it on his phone. “No need to remind me, babe.”

You had it posted on your social media accounts and online forums, hoping someone would pick it up.

For a while, no calls came in. And it was just Aiku and you. You didn’t mind. Aiku was a warm presence in the apartment, always so mindful of you, especially during the days when you’d come home at 2 in the morning. He’d always save you a plate of dinner, waiting in the fridge for you to reheat and eat.

Eventually, that peace will be disrupted.

It was a cool Saturday morning, and you just left for your afternoon shift. Aiku had already finished grading his students’ essay papers last night, and he had all the free time that day, so he decided to visit the gym nearby. He read somewhere that this gym was pretty popular and offered one-on-one classes for MMA fighting and Judo. Upon arriving, he asked the front desk if the classes accept walk-ins. Lucky for him, it did, and it just happened that the MMA schedule for that hour was open.

Aiku approached the instructor and was amused by his appearance. Tanned skin, lean muscles, blonde hair with pink tips, styled up and spikey. Aiku wondered if the eyeliner on his eyes was just no-budge eyeliner that he applied every day or tattoos, because they still looked clean on his face.

“Yo,” the blonde called out. “You here for the class?” Aiku nodded, dropping his gym bag on the nearby bench. “Yeah. Figured I'd try this out for once.”

“So, a beginner? That should be easy. Name’s Shidou.”

“Aiku, man. Nice to meet ya.”

Shidou was professional, handling Aiku in every drill they did. Shidou was surprised Aiku was able to hold up after the drills, even when he decided to “take it up a notch”, which Aiku was okay with. “Damn, you’re the only one I had today that was able to keep up. Do you usually work out?” Shidou asked as he attempted to tackle Aiku. “Nah,” Aiku grunted. “I don’t have the time sometimes. I’d say it’s the genes.” Shidou barked a laugh as he finally took Aiku down.

As the two were cooling down, Aiku spoke up. “Hey, man. I know this is gonna be weird, but do you know anyone who’s looking for a place to rent?” Shidou frowned at him, confused. “Huh?”

Aiku chuckled as he breathed out. “My roommate and I are looking for two more people to rent out the empty rooms in our apartment. Would be nice to have more people in there.” Shidou groaned, cracking his neck. “Yeah? Where’s it located?” Aiku was quick to grab his phone and show the posting. “Hm, interesting,” Shidou murmured. “Can you send this to me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That night, at around 10:30 PM, there was a knock on the door. Aiku was alone at the apartment, and he knew it wasn’t you. He knows you have a key of your own, so a visitor at this time was odd for him. He quickly dried his hands before he opened the door to see…

“Shidou?” He asked. “Hey, man.”

They clapped hands, and Shidou grinned at him, baring. “I’m here for the room.”

“You… You’ll rent out one of the rooms?” Aiku asked, a little dumbfounded. Shidou shrugged and replied, “Been looking for a place anyway. You came with an offer, and I’m here to check it out.”

“Alright.” Aiku stepped aside and let Shidou walk inside the apartment unit. He watched as Shidou’s magenta eyes scanned the living room, dining area, and kitchen. “Good place you got here,” he whistled low. Aiku laughed softly, nodding. “Well, the princess and I did all we could to make it homey.”

“Princess? You got a girl for a roommate?” Shidou asked, brow raised. Aiku walked towards him and slung an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “Yeah. Kinda strict, but she does her best. She should be home in a few.”

Aiku led Shidou to the empty rooms for him to choose which room he’d want, and he chose the one beside yours. Aiku asked him again if he was sure, and Shidou said that he was deadass. So, Aiku quickly briefed him on the boundaries and rules you had laid out, and Shidou was cool with it. Just before Shidou could leave, the doorknob jiggled and the door opened. “I’m home,” you sighed, your head lowered as you kicked your stilettos off. “Fucking hard shift, again.” You dropped your keys on the bowl near the door, and when you raised your eyes to meet Aiku’s, you were instead met with electric pink eyes. You straightened and smiled at him, the way you do when you’re at work. “Oh, hi!” you chimed. “Friend of yours, Aiku?”

Aiku opened his mouth to reply, but Shidou cut him off. “I’m your new roommate. Shidou, by the way,” he said smugly, holding out his hand for you to shake. You reluctantly did, and he gripped your hand a little tighter. “Can’t wait to move in here next week. Thanks Aiku and…” His eyes narrowed, and he grinned. “Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you looked down at your chest. There, your nameplate, still attached to your uniform. “Sure, sure.. See you, Shidou.”

Once Shidou left and the door was locked, you were quick to slap Aiku’s arm. He laughed it off as he rubbed his skin. “Aiku! He’s loud!” You whisper-yelled, and Aiku laughed even more. “Oh, come on. We need the noise. And he’s gonna pay rent and contribute, like you said in the agreement.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at Aiku like he adopted a puppy without asking. “What does he do, anyway?”

“A trainer at the gym. A damn good one, too. I met him there today because I took his class.”

“Okay, no more people from the gym. Please.”

Days now become louder with Shidou around. He greets everyone with a good morning way too loudly, sometimes waking you up way too early for work. Aiku had to scold Shidou a few times before Shidou learned when to be loud and not (just in days when you had to deal with your graveyard shifts at the hotel). As time went on, you learned how to appreciate Shidou’s personality as it added a few more colors to the comfortable home you and Aiku started to build first. He was a nice addition to the apartment.

The next month, there was another knock on the door. “You gonna get that?” Shidou said as he drank his protein shake. Aiku, busy with the meal prep for the day, shrugged. “You sure it’s not yours?” He asked Shidou. The blonde quickly shook his head. “Come on, when did I bring someone here? Or invite someone over?” Aiku laughed. “Alright, you gremlin.”

Aiku dried his hands before he opened the door. Standing outside was the most polished man they had seen so far. Suit pressed, neat and plain necktie, and a briefcase in his hand. His eyes were ocean blue, cold and still. His hair, auburn and styled neatly… kind of. “Uh, can I help you?” Aiku asked. He leaned on the doorframe as he watched the man fish for his phone in his pocket. “I’m here for this,” he spoke, his voice calm and cool. He showed Aiku the posting for the room, and Aiku was taken aback. “Really?”

The man nodded and sighed. “Look, I’m just interested in this posting and what the room looks like. It also sounded promising.”

Aiku stepped aside and let the man in, closing the door behind. Shidou grinned and approached him. “Shidou Ryusei,” he said. “Sae.”

“No last name?” Shidou teased, to which Sae sighed. “I have my reasons for not sharing my last name, Shidou.” The blonde raised his hands as he feigned surrender. “Alright, no need to be cold.”

Aiku gave Shidou the look, and he just shrugged. “I’m Oliver Aiku, by the way. Just call me Aiku.” Sae nodded and looked around. Aiku was glad he was able to convince Shidou to clean up, otherwise, the unexpected guest would turn his heels and out the door. Sae ran his hand on the couch that you and Aiku bought second-hand, his eyes scanning the living room. He hummed, as if he was satisfied with it. They watched Sae slowly navigate the dining area as Shidou walked to Aiku, just to whisper, “I bet pretty boy will have a lot of demands.” Aiku nudged his chest as Shidou huffed in pain. Just when Sae found himself in the kitchen area, eyeing the meal Aiku was preparing, a bedroom door opened. “Morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes. Sae focused on you for a moment, a small smile appearing on his face. He was a little relieved that the third person was a girl.

“Y/N,” Aiku called out, “We have a visitor.”

You were met by this polished man, way too polished. You knew immediately he was here for the last spare room, so you fixed yourself quickly, the way that you always do. “Hi,” you chimed, your service industry voice floating. You saw the man’s brows shoot up as yours shot up in return. “Are you here for the room?” Sae nodded, and you were quick to lead him to the said room, the boys watching you be you. “She always does this,” Shidou murmured, “always so polite.”

“Well, that’s her. It’s actually cute. Just let her work her magic,” Aiku said.

When you and Sae stepped out of the room, the boys had a feeling that their little group of four was finally complete. You discussed the boundaries and rules with Sae, and Sae agreed to all. “I’ll move in next week,” he said calmly before he stepped out of the apartment. “Great!” you chimed, your voice reaching a pitch the others never heard. “We’ll see you soon… uhm… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name the whole time.”

“It’s okay. It’s Sae. Itoshi Sae.”

As soon as the door closed, the three of you looked at each other. “So?” You asked the boys. Shidou shrugged and grinned. “He looks like he’s out of place, Y/N. Gotta be honest with you.” You broke your posture and sighed, knowing Shidou was correct. “But he’s so neat. I like him.” Aiku pouted and leaned on you. “But babe, we’re also neat.”

“Yeah, when I ask you guys to clean up.”

“Well, I guess we’re already complete. You think Sae’s gonna work well with us here? He looks like a real quiet guy,” Aiku said.

“You mean judgmental. I don’t like the way his eyes scanned over me like I’m a freak.”

You laughed and patted Shidou’s arm. “Well, you’re our freak.”

“You mean that, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“Did you catch his last name? Itoshi… Wait a damn minute.”

On that same day, you three discovered that your fourth roommate was rich enough to buy you, your careers, and the whole damn apartment building if he wanted to.

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elleaitch22 · 1 month ago

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Terms of Endearment

Chapter 5: Under the Stars

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: Sorry it's so late! Crazy work at week, and I'm super exhausted. I hope you love it though! Shoutout to Flau'jae though because her video with Paige is what kept me up so I could finish editing. Please disregard any errors lol. xx Elle

Warnings: Emotional abuse recovery, anxiety, and low self-worth

Word Count: 3.1k

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige had no idea why she was doing this. Not to say she wasn’t kind, but inviting someone you met four days ago into your life was a lot. Paige had done so much to ensure the happiness and safety of her family. Her life was carefully constructed so that everyone knew exactly what she wanted them to know.

Soleil babbled happily about hoping Ms. Fudd likes her dress and how her teacher looked like a princess.

The blonde decided the leave her suit jacket buttoned. She looked elegant. Poised. Controlled. Perfect. As soon as Jana had told Paige which dress Azzi had chosen, she knew this would be the suit that would complement the woman and her daughter perfectly.

She ran through plans in her head. There would be four extra security guards mingling with the masses tonight. Paige didn’t want Azzi to be spooked this early into their arrangement and back out. Soleil wouldn’t react well to someone else.

The photographers were Paige’s biggest concern. They were intense and invasive on a regular night – this was not a regular night.

This was not just a regular event – not with Azzi going.

Paige hated these nights, spending hours with people who pretended like they cared. Families who appeared to be happy and healthy, though the parents hadn’t been together for months. Women with incomplete smiles due to Botox and lip flips.

Paige tried to ignore her negative view of galas. She released a deep sigh. She would be charming, untouchable, and perfect.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Azzi ran her hands down the front of the dress, her hands trembling slightly. The satin clung delicately, hugging her silhouette without revealing too much. She looked beautiful. Stunning, even. Her heart was racing, but not out of vanity.

The high neckline wrapped around her throat like a necklace. The halter dipped into a fully open back, cool air skating across bare skin. But it wasn’t the breeze that made her shiver, it was the thought of Paige’s hand resting there, cool and steady. Azzi gulped. Just the thought of the blonde’s touch sent sparks everywhere.

The dress shimmered between space and midnight, beginning in a purple so deep it was nearly black, then melting into a midnight blue. The perfect complement to the gala’s theme: Under the Stars. Her jewelry caught every glimmer of light, a soft clinking stack of diamond tennis bracelets, celestial starburst studs in both ears, silver rings across her hands. She was a star. She looked good enough to be seen with Paige Bueckers.

The Chicago Children’s Hospital Gala was the “perfect” event to launch their relationship. A family debut – Paige brought Soleil with her every year, and now Azzi would be on her arm. The image was comforting. Azzi was thankful the girl would be with them all night; she would be able to focus on her instead of her mother.

She wasn’t sure if she’d make it through a coherent sentence if Paige was touching her. Or if she looked at her with those perfect blue eyes. Or smiled that soft, half-smile Azzi saw at breakfast today.

Azzi smiled tightly, her hands wringing together anxiously.

You think she really wants to be seen with you? You’re pathetic. She’s just being nice. She’ll get bored. No one would really want to be seen with you.

She inhaled sharply and shut the voice down before it got louder. Not tonight. Not with Soleil waiting for her downstairs. Not with Paige—

“Ms. Fudd, you look like a pwincess!”

Azzi turned just in case to catch Soleil barreling into her arms.

“Thank you, Soleil. I don’t look as beautiful as you, though! You look like a fairy queen!” Azzi smiled, warmly. She wasn’t lying. Soleil’s dress was a perfect match — deep violet at the top, with layers of lilac tulle blooming below. Silver shoes. A tiny purse. A crown of silver stars in her hair.

Azzi knelt to be eye level with the girl, “Do you want to start calling me Azzi tonight?” She asked gently. “Just so it doesn’t feel weird. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

The girl gasped in surprise before she threw herself into Azzi’s arms. “Yes, Azzi!”

The warmth in Azzi’s chest was just beginning to anchor her when a shadow fell over them.

She looked up — and froze.

Fix your face. Fix your face. Fix your face.

Azzi had grown up thinking she was straight. But moments like these, just confirmed that she didn’t know anything because Azzi Fudd was 100 percent attracted to women.

Paige stood in the entryway. An angel wrapped in sin. The navy suit was perfectly tailored, the cut perfect on her athletic frame. The lapels sparkled with dark gemstones, a constellation against the velvet. Her shirt was a darker silk, just open enough to show skin, and her necklace twinkled with every breath she took.

Azzi’s gaze trailed over her jawline, to the simple diamond studs, the handful of silver rings gleaming on her fingers — fingers Azzi had seen wrap around a whiskey glass, Soliel’s backpack, her own wrist once in a too-casual touch that left her dizzy for hours.

Blue met brown. Tension snapping between them. Azzi swallowed hard.

Paige’s voice, smooth as bourbon, cut through the silence. “Morgan’s waiting downstairs,” she said, offering her hand.

Azzi hesitated only a beat before slipping her fingers into Paige’s — warm, strong, steady, grounded. Her knees wobbled.

Paige didn’t miss it.

“You look nervous,” she murmured, leaning in just close enough for her breath to ghost over Azzi’s ear. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t flinch every time I touch you. And if it gets bad, if you get too uncomfortable, take Soleil to the kid area. No one will question it.”

She doesn’t love you. You’re convenient. You’re weak. You’re just something for her to dress up until she gets bored.

Azzi took a breath, slow and deep, forcing the voice back into the dark.

You’re not with him. Paige isn’t him. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to be seen.

She lifted her chin and looked Paige dead in the eye. “I can handle it.”

Paige’s smile was slow and dangerous. “I know you can.”

They walked toward the elevator, Soleil’s hand in Azzi’s, and Paige’s on her back. Azzi felt the silk of her dress shift against her skin, her pulse pounding with every step. Maybe tonight she would let herself be wanted. Touched. Seen.

And maybe, for once, she wouldn’t apologize for any of it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The ride to the venue was quiet at first. Soleil’s car seat sat in between the two women, talking to Morgan animatedly.

“I go to the ball,” She giggled. “Like a Cinderella, right Azzi?”

Azzi smiled gently, “Yes, just like her. You look like a princess too!”

Soleil gasped, turning to Paige. “Do you think they will like my dwess?”

Paige’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Of course they will! You look magical, Sunshine.”

Azzi was shocked, not expecting Paige to be animated on a night where she already seemed so tense.

The car came to a slow stop, but she didn’t notice until the car was bright with light. Azzi wasn’t sure when they got to the event or when they got to the step and repeat, but she hoped her face didn’t show the shock she felt.

The flashes were nearly unbearable. Azzi blinked through them, struggling to see, but keeping a small smile on her face. Thank God Paige was holing Soleil; her little face tucked in her neck, spared from the blinding lights. Paige hadn’t let go of her since she stepped out of the car. Azzi was calmed by the pressure on the small of her back. Paige’s hand was directional, protective, like she needed to keep her close.

Azzi released a breath she didn’t know she was holding when they stepped inside of the venue.

“You okay?” Paige asked as they sat. Her eyes shone with concern.

Azzi softly smiled, nodding, “Yes, I’m fine. I just didn’t know it would be so intense.”

“Now do you get it? Morgan and the apartment.” Azzi would never admit it, but the seemingly overbearing security measures made perfect sense.

A boy with full casts on one side was led to the stage. Azzi had to blink fast, swallowing hard as he spoke about his recovery.

Azzi felt eyes all over her.

They knew. They knew she didn’t belong with this wealthy crowd. She was gonna fuck up, and she’s only been at this event for like 30 minutes.

Azzi didn’t know when her leg started bouncing, but her whole body froze when Paige put her hand on her knee. The touch caused a little static before her brain went blank.

After the speeches were over, soft music started playing. Soleil looked to her mother happily, “We go dance now?”

Paige picked the girl out, making her way to the dance floor, spinning and rocking Soleil the entire way. Azzi remembered when she used to dance in the living room with her parents, before everything got all fucked up.

She was brought out of her spiral by small hands tapping her thigh. “Come on, Azzi! You can come too!”

Azzi’s brows rose. “To dance?”

Soleil gripped Azzi’s hand. Lip poking out, she begged, “Please.”

A pale hand was extended over Soleil’s head. Paige didn’t say anything, waiting for Azzi to accept their invitation.

With Soleil in between them, Azzi and Paige glided onto the floor.

Soleil giggled between her mom and her teacher. The three of them twirled slowly, content to ignore everything and everyone else in the building. Paige’s hand stayed on the small of her back, like she was reassuring Azzi that she belonged.

They had made it through four songs when Soleil started wiggling. “I wanna go to the awt station.”

“I’ll take her,” Azzi began. “You need to mingle.” She scooped the four-year-old and floated away to the children’s area.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The Children’s Hospital had outdone themselves again. Paige was almost impressed with the way the ballroom had been transformed into a galaxy. Elegant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the lights making their own constellations on the floor. Soft blue and purple lights created a galaxy across the walls. The tables had tasteful silver centerpieces, each a different constellation. There were harpists against the walls creating an ethereal atmosphere, the quiet instruments somehow audible over the chatter, laughter, and camera shutters.

Paige was used to this. It was her fourth year at the gala, coming since Soleil was a baby. Typically, she would mingle for a few minutes, take Soleil to the play spaces, and be left alone for the rest of the night.

But this year was different because of her.

Paige expected a lot of nerves tonight, but from Azzi, not herself. But when she saw Azzi, she felt her chest tighten a little more the longer she looked at her.

She looked good. Too good. Almost perfect. She looked like she was supposed to be with Paige and Soleil.

She saw all the men staring at her hungrily. She had to do something, touch her at least a little. So she did. And when she rested her hand on the small of Azzi’s back, she felt her tense.

It reminded Paige of her past. It reminded her of all the things she didn’t know about Azzi. The things she needed to learn. The lines she didn’t want to cross too soon.

Paige stood at the edge of the ballroom nursing a flute of champagne and listening to Graham Robinson drone on and on about the stock of his company. She glanced at Azzi and Soleil with envy. She hadn’t realized that having a partner meant that Azzi would get to go off with Soleil, and since finger painting didn’t require both women, Paige was stuck mingling for much longer than the thirty minutes she had prepared for.

People assumed that Paige was an emotionless robot, but she had wants. She had needs. When she was younger, she always assumed her kids would have two parents, but she knew Manny would not be good to Soleil, so she took care of it. She mashed down the desire to share a life with someone, but looking at the two of them together made all those feelings come rushing back in.

Unlike all the other women at the gala, Azzi was knelt on the floor, helping Soleil spread glue and glitter on the paper. She had a warm smile, giggling, and whispering to Soleil constantly.

It was almost impossible to stop Paige’s brain from wondering. Azzi was already so good with kids, all the girls seemed to like her, and Soleil was obsessed with her.

She watched as Azzi carefully picked up Soleil’s paper, taking it to their table with Soleil right by her side.

A perfect opportunity for Paige to exit this conversation.

“So sorry, Graham. It seems the family is ready to eat,” Paige maintained her controlled tone before turning and walking to the table. “What did you make, Sunshine.”

“Hi Mommy! I maked a glexy!” Paige smiled as she listened to her daughter start her soliloquy about the different planets and stars in the picture.

Her eyes drifted up, seeing Azzi completely focused on Soleil and her story.

That was when Paige made her decision. She was going to keep Azzi. She was going to do whatever she needed to make sure Azzi wanted to be hers, and she already knew that Azzi would be worth the wait.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The condo was silent. Quiet enough that Azzi could hear the low hum of the air conditioning and the soft ticking of the click. She’d been frozen in the foyer of her new home for at least three minutes.

She slowly kicked her heels off, clutch already dropped in awe. This apartment is just – it made her heart skip a beat.

The foyer opened into an open, beautiful space. Massive windows let in moonlight, and Azzi could not wait to see the space in the morning. The wood was cool against her feet as she walked to see Lake Michigan. That would hurt. She had never been this high before; 59th floor, just under the penthouses. Azzi giggled at the celestial theme for the night as see saw a rippling moon and stars on the lake.

The white oak stretched across the living room, leading to a fireplace with a waterfall mantle. A large television blended wit the wall seamlessly. Her measly couch looked too small for the space; she’d get a new one after her first paycheck next week. She appreciated the openness of the space, large round table under a beautiful crystal chandelier.

The kitchen was beautiful, somewhere she could actually practice the recipes saved on her Pinterest board. Most of the cabinets were a warm cream color, but there was a white oak island – an honest to God island – that added more warmth to the space. Everything shined. White marble countertops so polished Azzi could see her face when she looked down. The stainless steel appliances were immaculate. Refrigerator filled?

The refrigerator opened with a soft hiss. Oat milk, sliced fruits, chopped vegetables, chicken sausage, the flip cup yogurts. Paige had gotten someone to stock her refrigerator. And they were her favorites, down to the brands.

Azzi didn’t know whether she should feel seen or scared.

She closed the fridge gently, turning towards the hallway. The first door led to a linen closet, while the next showcased a bold powder room. There were two bedrooms across from each other, the first a guest room and the second vacant.

After passing another empty bedroom, she made it to the last door. Her bedroom was beautiful. A new, bigger bed sat pushed against a paneled wall. Her eyes caught two doors, the first led to a giant bathroom with a deep bathtub and separate shower. The other door led to a closet. Instantly, Azzi knew that there were more clothes in the closet than she had this morning. There were new pajama sets, athletic sets, and even shoes. For the fifth time that night, Azzi’s jaw dropped.

She padded back out to the bedroom in a daze. A pink piece of paper rested on a thick book.

Pick whatever you want. It’s on me. – Paige

Beneath the short note was a smiley face, a rainbow, and a heart.

And an added Ice is an interior designer. She can help if you want

Azzi couldn’t remember she was allowed to make her space her own. Maybe high school? College? There were no requests. No rules. No ultimatums.

A cold feeling washed over Azzi. No one did this, was this nice, for free. Grant had showered her with gifts and promises, only to demand thanks with control, submission, and silence. Was Paige wanting the same things? Azzi tried to do the math in her head; this condo was probably worth four years of her salary.

She tried to talk herself down. Paige hadn’t touched her. She only pushed about things that should help her and keep her safe. She didn’t even flirt with her.

Later that night, after she showered, she laid in her bed hoping. Maybe Paige wasn’t expecting anything. Maybe she really did care.

She just didn’t know if she’d be able to wait to find out.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Paige stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Azzi was perfect tonight. She talked with the other attendees, charming them with her passion for teaching. She spent the majority of her night with Soleil, doting on her and caring for her without a second thought. She made Paige want to leave the party and just go talk somewhere. Paige hadn’t felt anything like that since middle school.

She wanted to slow down. To learn the doe eyed brunette better than anyone ever could. She needed to know her. She needed to know what would make her choose to stay with her.

Paige wanted Azzi to fall for her. Not because of obligation. Not because of Soleil. Not because Paige had spoiled her so far.

She wanted her to look at Paige one day and realize that she had chosen her, just like Paige had.

Paige pulled off her rings, washed her face, and thought.

She needed to find a way to get to know her. She needed to show her that she was warm, kind, goofy, and caring under the mask she put on for the rest of the world.

She needed Azzi to know that she would show up for her. She would wait, listen, protect, do anything she needed for her.

Tomorrow, she would ask her to come to dinner in the penthouse. Maybe she could entice her to talk over dessert after she put Soleil to bed. Maybe Soleil could have a sleepover with KK.

Yes.

She sent two messages.

Wanna have a sleepover with Lei tomorrow?

And another to Ice.

Can you help Azzi with styling her place tomorrow? Lmk best time pls&thx.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #pazzi #paige x azzi #dallas wings #uconn wbb #wnba

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