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babyleostuff · 3 months

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bike chase

𝜗𝜚 GENRE: fluff, established (secret) relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!dino x idol!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: you are his secret, and he is yours. so what happens when a paparazzi catches you on a date?

“fix your hat, baby.”

“huh?” chan looked up from his phone, his handsome face on full display. if you could have it your way, you’d never let him wear anything to cover the bright eyes, and beautiful smile that you fell in love with (hiding a face like that was technically a crime), but in your world it was impossible. as much as you’d wish to show off your boyfriend, and you knew chan was dying to share your pictures on his instagram as well, you were grateful you could make it work anyway.

not every idol was as lucky as you were.

“your hat,” you sighed, and kicked the kickstand down so your bike wouldn’t fall. your boyfriend was still focused on his phone when you grabbed his face to fix the bucket hat so it would properly cover his face. “we have to be careful, remember.”

the chance of bumping into someone was slim, like - there was a reason why you went on a biking trip at 2 am - it was the only time you had an illusion of privacy. it was just a matter of time before someone would recognise you anyway, but at least you could hold hands without being paranoid about the people around you. ever since the Han River incident last month when some paps recognised you (and took some quite unflattering pics, in your opinion), you learned your lesson to step up on your dressing up as undercover spies game. thankfully the photos were so blurry that your companies had no problem with denying the rumours.

“thank you,” chan mumbled, and placed a peck on your forehead. you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth - he looked way too endearing with his concentrated expression, but he was the one to insist that he’d manage to find your way back home. you were officially banned from helping him.

“how’s it going?” you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “will i sleep in my bed today or do i need to find a comfortable bench for the night?”

“hey, have some faith in me,” he whined, finally looking up from his phone. “it’s not my fault the maps aren’t working. look,” he showed you the open map app he’d been struggling with for the past twenty minutes as if to prove that he wasn’t not the problem here, “the service sucks here.”

“maybe we should’ve invested in some old fashioned maps,” you sighed, and leaned your head on chan’s shoulder.

being up at the late hour wasn’t something unusual for the both of you, but you wouldn’t lie - after a full day of schedules and rehearsals you were getting kind of tired. not to mention you were biking for the past hour, so being stuck in the middle of nowhere was not an ideal situation for you.

as if chan noticed your energy dropping, he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. “tired?” he asked, his mouth brushing your cheek.

“a bit.”

“i’m sorry. it was my idea to go on a bike ride, we should’ve just stayed home.”

you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s annoying habit of apologising for every small thing he thinks he's done wrong. “listen to me, lee chan,” you grabbed his chin, and rolled up the front of his bucket hat, so you could see him properly. “if i have to be stuck with someone, i’m happy that it’s you. besides, i agreed to the whole biking trip, so please - stop apologising.”

he gave you a smile, clearly still feeling a bit guilty. there weren't many things you could do together without being seen, so chan took it upon himself to come up with fun, yet safe ways to spend your dates without being noticed. not that you needed it - as long as you were with him, what you did didn't matter, but your boyfriend had a heart of gold, so you couldn't tell him he didn't have to try so hard.

“i love you,” the sincerity in his voice made you melt every time he said those three words. you’d never get bored of hearing them in person, not when you usually got them through messages or phone calls.

“love you too,” you said, and kissed his lips softly, before rolling down the front of his hat. “but channie?”

“hm?”

“maybe i can help you after all. i’m sure we’ll figure the maps out together.”

“yeah i think that’s a good idea,” he let out a quiet giggle, and lowered the phone so you could see the screen. you put your arm around his waist, because your boyfriend’s personal space was also your personal space, and you quickly fell into a comfortable silence. if your legs weren’t aching, and tummy rumbling from the lack of food, you’d tease chan for giving up on his big boy job to get you home, but you didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty than he was already feeling.

it was kind of ironic how you wanted to get away from the hussle of the city, and now ended up god knows where.

“did you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning his head towards the trees.

you followed his gaze to where he was looking, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. “no, i don’t think so. maybe you just heard an animal or something,” you said. usually you weren't easily scared, chan was the scaredy-cat in your relationship, but the dark surroundings and lack of people did their job. especially since the boy in front of you suddenly acted like he had seen a ghost.

"i could’ve sworn," he muttered, looking around, "that i heard the clicking of a camera."

hearing this, you took a better look around you, because the sound of the camera didn't mean anything good in your case.

"are you sure…" and that's when you heard it too.

click.

"chan?" you looked at your boyfriend, panicked. "what now?"

the boy grabbed your chin so that you wouldn't accidentally turn towards the person who apparently liked to follow people at night and take photos of them.

“don't turn around and listen to me,” chan swallowed, “we'll get on our bikes and leave.”

if you weren't panicked enough before, you definitely were now. "and this is your great plan?" you shouted at him quietly, as if the person hiding in the bushes could hear you.

"do you have a better idea, honey?"

you shook your head because no, you didn't, so all you really had was chan’s mistermind plan. running away from the paparazzi sounded crazy though, like something out of a bad rom-com, but what else were you supposed to do? the worst part was that you didn't know how long this person had been following you, or if they had just noticed you - and whether they realised who you actually were.

"on three?" chan ran his thumb along your chin. a small smirk appeared on his face, as if the idea of escaping on a bike was the best date idea ever.

nodding, you took a few steps back to blindly find the handle of your bike. you finally managed to find the kickstand too and kicked it up, now fully ready for the craziest thing you were going to do this week.

"one."

everything will be fine.

"two."

what could go wrong?

"three!"

as if burned, you turned around, making sure to keep your head down so that your face wasn't visible, and jumped on the bike. you had never started pedalling so fast, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you more energy than ever. you just had time to turn around to see if the person had come out of the bushes to follow you, but you didn't see anything.

with new energy, you kept following your boyfriend, who, like you, was pedalling as fast as he could. what a pity that chan was a born dancer with thighs and an ass that many men envied, which meant you had to pedal twice as fast. what fun.

"i think we lost him!" you shouted so that he could hear you.

chan turned around with a huge smile on his face and you couldn't help but laugh. your hair was swirling around your face, and you had to grab your head to keep your own hat from falling off - that’s how fast you were running away from your new friend. who would have thought that the night would end like this.

but suddenly, the smile on your boyfriend's face disappeared and was replaced by an expression of surprise and horror at the same time.

"he's on a bike!" he shouted.

what?!

you quickly looked behind you, a little scared of what you might see. and damn chan, but he wasn't wrong - the guy, even though he was a bit behind you, was riding a bike with a camera over his shoulder.

he looked comical, although you suspected you two didn't look any better.

"faster," chan shouted and turned to see where he was going, "we have to lose him!"

now it was no longer looking like a rom-com but a low-budget action movie with very bad actors and an even worse villain. you couldn't wait to do a live talking about how you ran away from some random dude on a bike.

your thighs burned like hell, and you felt like you were slowly getting out of breath, but it didn't slow you down at all. you mentally thanked yourself for all those hours spent at the gym, though you’d never think they’d come in handy for a bike chase.

“are you okay?” you heard chan yell.

“yeah, keep going.”

you wouldn’t let a weirdo with a camera beat you.

you finally entered an area where buildings started to appear, and without thinking, you followed the boy in front of you as he turned into an alley that looked more than suspicious.

"is he still there?"

you glanced behind you and like a maniac, the guy with the camera was still pedalling.

"yes!"

"is he serious?"

you drove through the street and entered another one, making a sharp turn. it's a good thing you two weren't driving a car because you didn't know how much you could’ve trusted chan in a car chase. your boyfriend was driving fifty kilometres an hour, even when the limit was seventy.

a few turns later, you turned around again to see how far your friend was, and luckily he wasn't as fit as you, because you didn't see him anywhere. poor fella probably got tired.

"i think we lost him!"

chan nodded but didn't slow down. who knew where this paparazzi could suddenly appear from. but to be honest, if you could you’d applaud him for his dedication, not everyone had the drive to chase two idols on a random tuesday night through the streets of seoul.

"baby," chan suddenly stopped and got off the bike. because of how fast you were going, your brakes squeaked when you pressed them. "come here." the boy jumped off his bike and looked at you before disappearing into the narrow alley.

you didn't even want to ask what he was doing, so without any questions you got off your bike and went in the direction where your boyfriend had just disappeared. the alley was very narrow, barely able to fit the two of you, let alone your bikes, but you somehow managed to hide yourselves, so you weren't visible from the main street.

"why..." but before you could finish your question, you heard someone panting, and a second later, right next to you, the paparazzi who had been chasing you for the last fifteen minutes biked past.

you snorted and poked your head out to make sure that the guy disappeared, or if he maybe had decided to look for you here. luckily he wasn't smart enough, and was nowhere in sight.

you looked at your boyfriend, who like you was out of breath, but oh so pleased with himself.

"you don't have to thank me," he said, and as if on cue, that annoyingly handsome smirk returned to his face.

“you idiot,” you huffed and pushed his arm.

"i told you today would be fun," he said and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. now that your adrenaline was starting to wear off and you felt how exhausted you actually were, you realised how close you and chan were.

yes, you were both sweaty and smelly as hell, and there were beads of sweat dripping from your boyfriend's forehead, but he seemed as handsome to you as ever. his messy hair, his chest rapidly rising up and down, the sleeves of his compression shirt hugging his strong biceps - he was a sight for sore eyes.

and only for you to see.

"you're right, lover boy," you said, because it was true. despite all your fear, you didn't think the guy managed to get any decent photos, and you'd worry about your companies later and in the end, you had a great time. "but do you know what?"

"what?" chan smiled cockily and leaned towards you.

just as he was about to kiss you, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.

"we still have to get home somehow."

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pinkrelish · 2 years

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𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬.

ex-con!linecook!eddie x fem!reader

✶Steve messed up. He assured you over and over again that you could have the spare bedroom in his apartment, but while you took your time mulling over his offer, someone else moved in: his down-and-out best friend who needed a place to stay. When you show up at Steve's door with little warning due to your job relocating you, he suggests you and Eddie share the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Besides the fact Eddie hated you, and in turn, you hated Eddie.✶

NSFW — smut, masturbation, eddie watches porn, dry humping, cumming in pants, reader flashes her bra & wears a pencil skirt, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one bed(room)

↳ teaser oneshot | [wc: 9.3k] | series tba!

⋅line cook hc from @bewilderedbunny⋅

Steve was a nice guy. Really.

He was your pen pal since meeting at summer camp when you were both eight-years-old. He was sweet, and wrote you back within a week, without fail. He was your first kiss one sweltering afternoon on the dock over the lake; a quick peck when the counselors weren’t looking. He was one of your first contacts in your flip phone, and his picture occupied the first circle when you got a smartphone, after pestering him to meet up with you in Indianapolis, snapping the pic at a crosswalk; a day where your conversations spanned nothing and everything. What was there to talk about when you talked via pencil, pen, markers, emojis, and photos for years, and suddenly forgot the past decade when you encircled your arms around each other?

He was a nice guy throughout all of college. He’d text you during class. You’d text him from states away, falling asleep at your dormroom desk. He worked at his father’s business. You started as an unpaid intern collecting coffee orders, and pulling all-nighters doing spreadsheet grunt work your superiors didn’t deem worthy of their time.

Stevie 🌞: just quit your job and live with me!

Stevie 🌞: I still have that spare bedroom

Stevie 🌞: rent free

Year after year, you always declined. Climbing the ranks at your job was important to you; and one day it paid off. They were relocating you to the Chicago, and if you didn’t take their pitiful relocation package, you’d get a decent advance on your next paycheck (which was dire considering your salary was roughly the same, despite the ever increasing cost of living); and knowing Steve always had that spare furnished bedroom, and most of your belongings could fit into your car (as long as you didn’t need to see out the rear window), it seemed like a done deal.

Until you surprised him.

You: hey! can i move in w you? my jobs relocating me to chicago and i might already be two hours out. sorry i didn’t text sooner. i had to leave my apartment asap. fuck paying for the damage cindy’s doberman did to that place 😬

Stevie 🌞: Lets talk when you get here

Stevie 🌞: I’ll meet you for coffee

Let’s talk? Never a good sign, even when he was smiling at you from over his latte.

————

“My friend needed the spare room, but he’s a good guy, I swear,” he told you.

“He’s just a little rough around the edges,” he told you.

“He’s understanding; I’m sure you two will get along,” he told you.

“He can make space in the closet for your stuff, and one of you can sleep on the couch,” he told you. “Maybe you can alternate! Bed, couch. It's not like I’m charging him rent, so he should be cool with you living with us until you can afford to move out, or whatever. No big deal. I don’t really care when, you know that. No rush.”

Right. Just share the room.

You weren’t present for the conversation; Steve and Eddie were in the bedroom while you stood awkwardly in the living room, but the result of the exchange made quite the first impression.

“I dunno,” Steve’s voice carried, “maybe you could work something out like you get the room Monday through Wednesday, and she gets it Thursday through Saturday. Sunday’s up in the air?”

“Oh, just share the room like I used to, huh?” Eddie asked, alluding to the life he lived several months ago. “Finally got some privacy to breathe around here, and now you’ve invited some chick to live with us without telling me? Actually–no–you invited her to live here. In my room. No heads up.”

Steve’s wince was audible in his heavy sigh. “You work weird hours, you probably won’t even have to interact with her. C’mon, man. She’s been my friend since we were kids, and it’s just until she finds her own place. She’s cool. She’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever if it really bothers you; just like, let her keep her clothes and shit in here, and let her use the computer for work.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Eddie, wait!”

Thunderous footsteps and a seething, “Fuck this,” followed the heightened emotions, and before you could straighten your spine, you were introduced to your new roommate.

His pace faltered, not expecting you to be standing there. The fine wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes pinched tighter, and his long hair flowed around a faded black snake tattoo on his throat, stretching across the strained tendons it was inked over, reaching the twitching muscle in his jaw from his clenched teeth. It took him a narrow-eyed glance to sum you and your pink luggage up, and place you firmly in the ‘I don’t like you’ category in his mind, and he continued his march.

“Hi! I’m–”

Your outstretched hand went ignored as he passed you.

He shoved on his boots, and slammed the front door behind him, rattling every piece of metal in the apartment. You stared at where he was just standing, vision marked with a black silhouette of the good guy you’d be sharing intimate space with for the next.. however long, and still with your hand out, you swiveled to Steve. “Yeah, he seems nice.”

————

Eddie Munson glared at your very existence. He wore a permanent crease between his brows when you were in his vicinity. Apprehension tensed his muscles when your soft gaze slid from Steve, to him. There was distaste in his frown. He rolled his eyes when you laughed too loud at the TV. His voice was vitriol, words clipped when he had to speak to you. His shoulders hiked to his ears when you entered the kitchen for a glass of water and caught him mid-chew on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he got home from work. When it was your turn to sleep in the bed, he made it a point to come home as loud as possible–yanking open the drawers on the dresser, waking the computer to blazing home screen, and leaving the light on when he went to shower across the hallway, pretending he didn’t hear you grumble at him to turn it off.

You wore a sleep mask to bed after that.

And when you slept on the couch, it was the only time he cooked for himself. Scraping pans across the burners, clinking silverware, gathering his hair off his neck and twisting it between his laced fingers, creating a cradle for him to drop his head back and sigh at the ceiling, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep.

You wore earplugs to bed after that.

Eddie Munson made it known you were not welcomed in his territory, and saw your accidental warm smile thrown vaguely in his direction as a threat to his well being.

But as much as he ensured misery every second you had the fortune of spending in his presence, you weren’t so innocent of terrorizing his every waking moment either..

Soon, Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday through Saturday, and a chance at a lazy Sunday were not enough.

————

When Steve was home, he acted as the mediator when it came to you two being at each other’s throats after another vicious stare-off. Currently, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the counter with his cheeks darkened to a fleshy red, and you were pacing the kitchen, wrapped in a bath towel, stating your case to Steve. You argued since most of the hair clogging the drain belonged to Eddie, he should be the one to clean it. And Steve, not knowing how to interpret Eddie’s steely focus on the fridge as if you didn’t exist, nor the fact a woman was dripping wet and yelling at him, he put his hands up in defense.

He edged away from your ire until he was at the cabinet housing a toothpick dispenser, and depressed the mechanism for one to roll out. He snapped it, put his hands behind his back, and shuffled the two ends into his palm, and had you choose one. Eddie kept his gaze averted, but grasped the other.

You held the long end of the toothpick above your head with a smile to rival the kitchen’s daylight bulbs searing into your retinas. You were the winner, and Eddie was the loser who had to clean the bathroom.

This worked swell when Steve was around to mitigate the tension. But when he was on a business trip, or out on a date, the Bed Schedule was a formality at best, and largely ignored at worst.

Meaning, the bets, deals, and favors began.

They started small: Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets dibs on those just-washed sheets. Flip a coin and see who has to rough it in the living room for the next two nights. Draw the shorter toothpick and try not to stab it in Eddie’s eye when he smirked.

But those were childish games. It was the deals and favors that proved more interesting.

“Can you help me punch holes in these?” you asked, voice high and urgent as you rushed to grab your color coded pie charts from the printer and clip them into a presentation binder.

He scoffed from the bedroom doorway, smelling of fryer oil and bacon grease. “What makes you think I want to help you after cooking for assholes all night?”

“Because you’re nice, and you love me.”

“I despise you,” he corrected, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He shifted his weight from foot to foot while you organized the pages, resisting the bait to give him what he wants, but you knew in your heart it was the only way to not be late for work this morning.

“Fine. You can have the bed tonight.”

He stayed put. “Nope. You know I’m working the overnight shift until Thursday.” That way, he slept while you were at work, and you slept while he was at work.

You glanced at the blue dawn creeping in from the window, then red the time on your watch. “Okay, fine, whatever! Have it all next week. I don’t give a fuck, just help me!”

Reveling in his victory, his plush lips stretched into a wide grin, showing too much teeth. He sauntered at his leisure, closing his eyes half-way, and gazing at you down the long slope of his nose. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he mocked.

You wanted to strangle him.

–And another time–

“Shut the fuck up for an entire day, and you can have to whole fucking closet,” Eddie snapped after your fifth instance of complaining about your professional office clothes not having available hangers due to him taking them for his old, ratty band tees.

Centering yourself, you brushed the dust off your favorite pants after finding them wadded up on the floor, and whispered, “I hope a rogue knife finds its way into your thumb again tomorrow.”

You swore you saw his hand flex out the corner of your eye, reacting to your curse.

–And the week after that–

You: come help me bring up these groceries

You: elevators broken

You: we can race up the stairs

You: loser washes dishes and takes out the trash

😒dumb: as long as the loser doesn’t cry about it when she sleeps on the couch

You: whatever

😒dumb: i’ll even give you a head start to make it fair

Struck with being that person grinning down at your phone in the stuffy underground parking garage, you gilded your thumbs over the keyboard in a fluttery tease.

You: you just want an excuse to stare at my ass

It took Eddie longer to reply, fumbling with his phone to find the emoji keyboard, only to send–

😒dumb: 🙄

–And the week after that–

“Get a life, you fucking loser,” you yelled from within the metal cylinder of the dryer, bent over on your hands and knees to wrestle your silk blouse free from where it was tangled in a rope of bedsheets, after you told him–explicitly–to never wash it because he’d do it wrong.

He merely watched you struggle from the sidelines, informing you, “You’re the one who asked me to do laundry. Don’t toss your precious, delicate shirts on the bathroom floor if you don’t want them thrown in with everything else. And by the way, I did my part of the deal, so the room is still mine tonight.” As a bonus, he added as he walked away, “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”

Your gums ached from how hard you clenched your teeth. You didn’t leave your blouse on the floor. He did, when he went hunting for his wallet he left in his jeans, and dumped all the clothes out of both baskets, mixing your work clothes with his.

That night, you locked him out of the bedroom. Fuck him.

————

After tireless days of the same back and forth, the juvenile deals and favors were losing their significance. Someone needed to up the ante. And a certain line you two skirted taunted you both, but remained uncrossed until..

————

The hallway leading to your apartment was stale with inactivity. Most people had been home for hours, or were back from bars and crashed on the couch, drooling on their girlfriend’s favorite decorative pillow–the kind with the pom poms. You thought of them with envy. Snoring, dreaming of some blissful shit like sheep hopping a pasture fence. But not you. Your 9 to 5 extended far past those numbers on the clock. It skipped right over them, just like you were skipped over in meetings, being told the extra burden you were taking on was good for the company, and the programs you were learning would be paid in experience. Bullshit. You were tired, and the last thing you needed was some long haired man stubbing his toe on the coffee table to wake you up–morning or night.

But perhaps you were blessed.

You opened the door to near-darkness. Not a lamp, or TV on inside to show someone was home. Not a groan, sigh, or blast of music funneling from a set of oversized headphones. Not a creak of movement from the hallway, or bathroom; surrendering your heartbeat as the loudest feedback.

It appeared you were alone. What a wonderful thing.

The muffled thud of the low pile rug under your heels gave way to silky sweeps of plush carpet welcoming your aching pantyhose-covered feet. Moving further into the apartment, you knew the shapes to avoid in the dim light coming from above the stove, casting the coffee table and scattered stools at the breakfast bar in shadow.

Groggy from exhaustion, you blinked at the spice cabinet door Eddie left open before leaving for his shift. During a conversation with Steve, you let it slip that people who leave the cabinet doors open annoy you, so of course he began leaving one open as a greeting when you came home.

You closed it with your right hand, swinging your laptop bag wildly, and before you could react, the strap caught the top of the glass sugar jar and knocked it over in a wincing crash. Luckily, after peeping one eye open, you assessed nothing broke, but now there was a streak of glittery white dust on the countertop you definitely weren’t going to clean up.

Maybe you could strike a deal with Eddie to wipe it up for you. It was–in a way–his fault, since he left the cabinet door open. If you didn’t need to close it, none of this would’ve happened..

You made a gagging sound.

Since when did your immediate thought process swing to him, and how do you get it to stop? It was bad enough you peeked around the corner into the hallway, praying, praying, praying the bedroom light was off, and feeling your body slump with utter relief when it was. Being on the same planet as him was hell, you didn’t need your private thoughts to linger on him, too.

Mentally dismissing Eddie Munson from your brainspace, you invited yourself into the bedroom. You sought the cushy mattress to cradle your weary body after a long day, and the nest of cozy fleece blankets to swaddle you as you drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the idiot’s pillow smelled far too much like him; cigarettes and cheap vanilla cologne combined with his hair products, burning your nose like toasted sugar. Despicable. Just the worst. You should exchange it with your own pillow, but you forgot it on the couch, and the couch was so very, very far away..

~~~

Eddie sat crouched in the alleyway outside of Benny’s Diner with a stubby cigarette balanced between his lips, blowing the smoke out in a slow exhale like a roll of fog on a misty morning. Cold emanated from the bricks pricking the expanse of his shoulders, and the night air chilled his damp shirt to his sticky skin, erupting goosebumps along his forearms. Standing around him were the other cooks on break. He didn’t share a common language with them outside of gestures, curse words, and kitchen lingo, but they gathered in a semi-circle as if to include him.

His shift was over. He’d technically clocked out, but he loitered until their vices were stomped under their shoes, and he snuffed his glowing ash on the wall behind him, and followed them inside.

Washing his hands first, he dried them on the towel tucked under the string of his apron tied around his waist, and set up a space on the flat top for him to occupy since the dinner rush had long since died, and the only patrons on the floor were drunks wandering in for greasy hashbrowns. He grabbed the four quart Cambro from the fridge beneath the prep area, and ladled enough batter for two large pancakes. Borrowing a station, he sliced up a ripe banana from the walk-in, and dropped it into a hot pan with a bit of butter, caramelizing them on the range while he waited for the pancakes to be flipped.

The guys behind him read off the few tickets, and carried their conversation from earlier. Eddie caught some of it, learning a few words here or there, but regardless of the language barrier, he knew they were talking about him. They were snickering with their heads together, pointing at the pancakes he was making despite being clocked out.

Eddie spoke with a sneaky grin, “If I make them for her, she’ll leave me the fuck alone on my day off.”

The guys may not have understood entirely what he meant, but his sunny disposition juxtaposed by his wry gaze communicated a universal plight: girls.

One of their hands landed hard between Eddie’s shoulder blades when they doubled over in a belly laugh, and the other one made whip-cracking sounds, calling him the same slang word he called the married cooks. It wasn’t worth it to attempt to correct them that these pancakes were not for his girl, but for his future migraine, so he hummed along with them, and flipped the pancakes with his right hand while tossing the bananas with a swift jerk of his left.

After their gossip, they went back to work, and Eddie grabbed a to-go container, loading it with the two pancakes and sliding the caramelized bananas on top. He brought it to the prep area to drizzle with chocolate sauce, and finished it off with heart-shaped strawberries, a dusting of powdered sugar, and a sprig of mint. He didn’t cut the strawberries that way with ulterior motives, it was just something he did when he had spare time in the morning. Cutting a wedge out of the stemmed top, and slicing them vertical. The customers liked it. It was cute, supposedly. There were no hidden intentions to him taking his time to place them just so around the box; it was merely him taking pride in how he plated his dish.

Clamping the container shut, he untied his apron, changed his shoes, and left out the back entrance, kicking pebbles under the crescent moon, and walking through the front door of the next building over. Gray concrete, a faulty elevator, ugly rugs to feign elegance, and high rise as far as ‘high rise when you live next a bunch of squatty buildings’ went. It was home, and it was blissfully dark inside.

Eddie worked his feet out of his tied-once-and-never-untied street shoes, and dropped his non-slip clogs next to them in a loud clatter.

He breathed. Inhaled deep. Sighed through his nose.

Quiet. Peaceful respite behind his eyelids.

The adrenaline ebbed. The hours of shouting and being shouted at, metal on metal clangs, timer beeps, and mechanical whirr of a ticket being printed out would never cease haunting his mind, but he should stop flinching from the imaginary sounds after a few hours. The pain stretching the length of his back should ease under a hot shower. The throbbing ache in his knees should lessen once he sleeps. The fatigue, like needles driven into his bones, should heal so he could be on his feet for thirteen more hours tomorrow.

Warmth worked its way beyond the calluses creating a barrier in his palm supporting the styrofoam container. Syrupy sweet hot sugar invaded his nostrils from the pancake bribe, battling the stench of his dried sweat and body odor baked into his t-shirt. The tiled entryway beneath his feet woke him out of his daze, and he slid his heavy-lidded gaze to the vacant couch; the comforter was folded, and the pillow was propped up, unslept on.

Briefly he wondered if you went out with your friends after work. But as he approached the kitchen, his dreams were crushed by a single closed cabinet door.

You were home.

You were home, and you weren’t on the couch, nor in the shower.

Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he hung his head back. In that position, he rolled the disappointment out of his shoulders, and braced them with something new.

Irritation.

Tamping the frustration in the pit of his stomach from bubbling up, he exhaled another calming breath, and opened the fridge, placing the pancakes exactly front and center amongst the fresh produce he was sometimes excited to create with, and sometimes slammed to the bottom of the trash when he was too exhausted and uninspired to do anything with their rotten corpses.

He prepared his expression into one of unbudging indifference. Flat, and unwilling to back down.

And yet, his nose scrunched when he pushed open the bedroom door, and there you were, as predicted, lounging amongst your hideous blankets spilling out from under you as if you were an opulent pearl nestled within an oyster shell.

The resentment built as he assessed your form delicately painted in a red glow from the ugly neon sign in the shape of a lipstick kiss tacked alongside his favorite band posters. He’d only lived with Steve long enough to feel comfortable decorating the blank walls, and you ruined the Rob Halford flow three days into your invasion. Your face was highlighted by the dim blue light of your laptop resting on your stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath, and you were haloed by the Himalayan salt lamp crowding the nightstand. It’s trendy, you explained.

With vehemence, he flickered the light switch.

You cringed from the bright assault, and clacked your fingers on the keyboard, pretending you weren’t dozing off a second ago. “Can you go away?”

“What’re you doing in here?”

Unimpressed by his tone, you glazed your response in insolence. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m minding my own business.” At that, your attitude was solidified, along with how this interaction would go.

Eddie stared at you for a long minute. Not once did you acknowledge him. He watched your eyes dart across the screen, probably watching one of those Youtube videos where girls walked around exciting cities with a camera way too close to their face, and he dragged his gaze downwards, noticing you were still in your work clothes; though, your blouse and skirt were disheveled, and your pantyhose were discarded on the floor, still holding the vague shape of your legs, resembling a flattened rotisserie chicken.

He focused on your eyes again. Bloodshot, rimmed in red with a suggestion of water clinging to the outer corners where your eyelashes met, and sporting a hefty burden of bags beneath them.

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminded you, voice heavy in his chest, but sounding scratchy, and hollow. His throat was shot.

“Mm,” you hummed and glanced at the clock in the corner of your screen, “it’s Thursday, actually.”

White hot anger boiled in his veins, striking his skin like a leather lash. It simmered, popped, sizzled, boiled over. The yelling, the timers, the cacophonous clanging. The ticket machine, the keyboard, the stinging cut on his thumb. Smug fucking brat laying in his bed on his night to have it. It was sudden, it was stark, and it was hatred.

“Make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“A fucking deal,” he repeated. “You know, like we’ve been making?” He stopped himself short of calling you a dirty name, but you must’ve gathered it from his tongue’s hesitation, because you turned your head a few degrees to challenge his temper.

“Oh, lucky for you, there was a two-for-one deal at the store.”

You waved two middle fingers at him, showing a bit of teeth with your crooked grin.

The hatred festered, but not as vicious. The anger was there–oh, the anger was there–but the energy to keep this going hit its peak, and fizzled. There was no sense in reasoning with you. The pancakes in the fridge were for a different occasion, he couldn’t waste them on this, and he was too tired to come up with his own bet, deal, or favor. “Just think of something so we can get this over with,” he nearly begged.

After some consideration, you held your fist out for rock, paper, scissors.

“Where’s the option for a gun in my mouth?”

“Harsh,” you pouted. Instead, you pointed at the 20 sided die on the desk. He inclined his head, shaking it with a slow sort of intention, eyes wide to express his warning to knock it off, and give him a true answer, something to make this worthwhile.

Finding the whole ordeal dull, you returned your attention to your laptop, pressing the white earbud into your ear before unpausing the video.

It took seconds off his life, but you finally spoke again.

“How long were you in prison? Six years? Bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen one of these in the flesh.” Due to your satin cream blouse being unbuttoned at the neck, you dipped your thumb under the collar, and traced the vibrant temptation of your red bra strap in a long, deliberate stroke. You hooked the soft pad of your thumb under the luxury, and brought it out for his viewing pleasure. A moment later, you snapped it to your skin, and went back to typing, not once breaking concentration with your video.

Eddie’s fascination, however, was trained on the dainty crimson gift slipping under the shimmery cream, sliding against the soft slope of your shoulder.

Heat thrummed in his chest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, sloshing his blood like viscous tidal waves, muting the clacky sound of your keyboard. Anger mixed with something more, something worse. It warmed his cheeks, and reignited the cold sweat prickling his back. It honed his curiosity, sinking every detail of the second tortoiseshell button on your blouse into his mind. Memorizing how the fabric around it went taut, and glinted honey at the height of your breath. Noticing how the bottom of your shirt was wrinkled and pulled slack, but still tucked into your pencil skirt. Remembering how the tight material hugged your thighs when you traipsed around the apartment. Although, the navy blue number was less defined now, fitting looser around your hips.

He didn’t know how long he was fixated by your clothing, until you sighed.

“Not enough for you?”

You asked it with forced casualness, he could tell. Your voice was too even, tone too polite, eyebrows too raised in mock indifference. You were introducing a line that had yet to be crossed. A door which, when opened, would give access to more possibilities than the usual bets, deals, and favors. An enticing offer, and he didn’t deny the nervous flutter of intrigue arousing his blood elsewhere.

But past the line was dangerous territory. Right? That’s where things got muddied, and feelings got involved.

Or maybe not. Because, above all else, he hated you, and you hated him.

This was a deal like any other.

“Maybe this’ll help,” you said, never breaking eyesight from the screen, its colors reflecting in your pupils.

You were the epitome of cool pinching the blouse between your fingers and slotting the buttons through the holes one after the other. Down, down, down to your navel, tugging either side of the shirt open, letting the elegant cream frame the aggressive scarlet.

Eddie was taken off guard.

The bra was more akin to lingerie than he expected. Its cups contained you like a poorly kept secret. Curves of red peonies covered your nipples–hard bud pressing against the center of the flower from the thrill of exploring a new end to your daily arguments. Your areolas peeked from between the petals, where the intricate lacework went see through, granting him a preview to the smooth flesh beneath.

Click clack, click clack, space bar, space bar, space bar, he swore you pressed your arms together to make your breasts rounder. Actually, he didn’t need to second guess. He saw the cusp of cleavage squish before his very eyes.

“Satisfied?” you inquired.

No, he ached.

The voice in his head was so automatic, so sure, he didn’t question it, either.

When he refused to verbalize the things which made him nauseous, his opulent pearl rolled onto her shoulder and lifted the laptop the pillow, turning over onto her stomach to engage with it solely, circling a manicured fingernail over the trackpad, and clicking.

To his surprise, the video on screen wasn’t of the vapid people you watched, but of a troubleshooting guide to the program your company was having you learn in order to teach it to the higher ups next week. (Or so he heard when you told Steve yesterday.) You tabbed out of the video, fixed a property in a column, checked the statistic it was evaluating, and added in an aesthetically pleasing green color before tabbing back.

He couldn’t parse how he felt about you having to do more thankless tasks off the clock, especially when you were clearly tired, but something else stole the last of his fiery anger, and doused his willpower to resist a glance.

Your habit of unzipping your skirt as soon as you walked into the apartment proved evident when you rolled over. The silky polyester lining slipped against your skin, shifting the long zipper from your hip to your backside. The halves parted, showing the end of the cream blouse, and a peek of skin. You adjusted how you laid, rocking your hips back and forth until you sank into the plush blankets, and propped your chin in your palm when you weren’t typing. Small movements working the skirt higher, and higher, bunching the fabric around the fat of your ass. Squirming, and stretching, tugging on your blouse, pulling, pulling, blouse, skirt, blouse, skirt, and then he saw it..

Red.

Delicate, feminine.

Tucked, hidden from anyone’s view but his, were the matching red panties to your bra. Trapped in a valley between thighs and ass, and stretching over the swell of your heat, embellishing the mouth watering desire in opaque lace strained firm against the outline of his treasure.

Eddie swallowed.

“Why’re you still in here?” you asked with a bite of annoyance. “You got to see a girl’s bra for the first time ever, probably. You should be celebrating, throwing yourself a party. In the living room. On the couch.”

The anger had returned like a slap of reality across his cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, remembering why he loathed you with every fiber of his being. “I’ve seen a bra before.”

“Pictures don’t count.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Your body jolted with a snort, and he flung open the door hard enough for it to bounce off the door stop. He heard your infuriating inhale, and slapped the lightswitch off, shutting the door behind him with excessive force before you could ask more demands of him. Gladly, he closed himself out of his own bedroom. The physical barrier under his trembling fist had never felt better, still gripping the knob as if he’d go back in there.

He wouldn’t.

He let go of the chilled metal and stalked down the hall, curbing himself from stomping out his frustration, only to throw himself onto the couch. Stomach burning with hunger, hatred. Chest heaving with rage. Pulse rising in his throat, beating against the ball chain necklace he wore. Breathing so hard, sounding as if he’d ran laps before collapsing onto his bed for the night, crossing his arms to squeeze his biceps, massaging his fingers down the muscle. Occupying himself. Distracting himself.

It wasn’t working.

He was mad.

Furious.

Draping his hand over his eyes, he gave himself a moment to make a decision, and pushed his bangs off his forehead. They stayed in their gravity defying position due to the oil. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself of this day, and go to sleep. But he couldn’t.

The fever in his veins was too distracting. He needed to take care of it. Get rid of it.

Sitting up, he unfolded the comforter from the end of the couch, and propped the pillow against the armrest to angle his head slightly up, where he could see the hallway.

From his front pocket, he collected his phone and laid it on his stomach while he unbuttoned his pants, pinching the waistband together and pulling the zipper down, sighing through his nose at the relief of the lines he was crossing.

He grasped his phone and brought it close to his face. Cupped in one palm, and using the other hand to tap it twice. A streak of perspiration was left on the screen where he swiped in his passcode, using his index finger to open a private browser and type in a porn site. Any porn site. Whichever variation of the word porn + noun he thought of first. It didn’t matter much to him; that’s not where his preferences lie.

office worker

co-worker

secretary

office worker tight skirt

office worker pov skirt grinding

His brain went stupid for synonyms trying to narrow down his search. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew the ultra HD, professionally lit, fakey acting wasn’t it. He scrolled, and scrolled. Narrowed his search again. Ticked off boxes on the side. Tried broader genres. Went back to the results he was on, and traveled down the rabbit hole a few more pages until, at last, he found what suited him.

The thumbnail appeared promising. Dimly lit, sorta bad quality, and clearly shot at home with a woman whose body type wasn’t far off from what he was hoping for. He even appreciated the visual similarities in the amateur actress’ navy blue skirt, and off-white blouse. As long as he scrolled down a tad to crop out her face, it was perfect. Plus, it was easier to insert himself into the scene that way.

He clicked it, and– ”Jesus Christ,” he turned down the volume as quickly as he could, accidentally pressing down the two buttons on the side that took a screenshot and saved it to his gallery.

The video started a little further into the act than he anticipated.

Such a fucking idiot, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Sitting in thick silence, he waited to see if you’d heard, and once his face calmed of the embarrassed flush stinging his cheeks, he moved on.

Eddie worked his right hand under the comforter, but heeded his boxers as a layer of separation. At the first contact with the parts of him he denied aching for the bane of his existence, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Gently, he raked his fingernails down the base of his shaft, and over his balls. He cupped them. Felt their heft. Cradled them and dragged them softly upwards, letting them fall and stretch before repeating the motion, enjoying the tickly sensation of being the first thing he touched. His most sensitive, most susceptible part of himself. Meanly ignoring the other part of him twitching, throbbing, begging to be catered to.

He kept some fraction of his brain alert to the hallway, senses sharpened by the spike of adrenaline, listening out for any sound of you exiting the room. But most of him was focused on hitting the play button, sticking to his decision that he couldn’t wait to do this in the shower. He needed it now.

It started with the woman already in motion. Shot from the guy’s point of view laying on the bed, his obvious hardon pressing through his slacks into her pussy grinding down on him. Her skirt lifted with each motion, showing her black underwear. Not that he was complaining they weren’t red, but he didn’t concentrate on them.

He switched from playing with his balls to gripping his cock. Finally. It buzzed with the rush of pleasure, harder than it had ever been, even in his youth. His fingers hardly met through his boxers, but he encircled them the best he could, and started with fast, desperate, stunted strokes, getting himself to where the guy in the video was in a matter of pent-up seconds, clenching his ass to buck his hips up. Heart pounding. Inhales shaky from the speed at which he took care of his problem, exhales interrupted by muted huffs.

Maybe he should be embarrassed, but it didn’t take him long to feel that encouragement to keep going, keep going, keep going. Where each frantic pump along his length was better than the last. Where each accidental graze of his fingers over the lipped edge of his tip sprinted towards his bliss.

In the video, the woman dipped a finger between her lips and moved her panties aside.

There was a low hum in the back of his throat, engrossed by the wet warmth opposed to his dry fist.

Metal knob turning–door creaking–carpet groaning, step, step, step–

It was a fucking miracle he managed to close out of the window in his panic. His thumb missed it the first two times as fear coated him in a cold sweat, and the phone fell out of his palm, smacking him in the chin as you rounded the corner.

You didn’t spare him the time of day as you walked into the kitchen and got a glass from the cabinet. Didn’t bother looking at him as you stood at the fridge with your hip cocked out, holding the cup under the outer dispenser and depressing the button for ice.

The fridge made a mechanical whirr, and filled your glass. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk, the ice cubes tinked into the cup for the longest seconds of his life. His hand was frozen mid-tug on his dick, and you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else. Truly, it hardly covered your ass. It clung to your hips, brushed the height of your thighs, and suddenly, he was checking how obvious the bulk of the comforter was over his lap, and if it creased when he moved his hand upwards.

Nothing. Not a fold out of place. He could keep it up. Stroke, by stroke, brushing his fingers over the head only, testing his limits to keep discreet while you switched to the other spout on the fridge for water.

Even when you turned to him, he massaged himself over his boxers, soaking the sticky slick beads of precum into the fabric.

“What?”

Your tone didn’t deter him from tracing the underside of his swollen head, caressing the glans with the same sort of sentiment he experienced in the homemade porn between a real couple–all gentle and nice.

He mustered enough brain cells to respond, “What? I’m already sleeping on the couch. Can’t you leave me alone for one night? Or are you that desperate for attention?”

None the wiser, you took a sip from your glass, and folded your other arm across your stomach, making it obvious from the natural sway that you weren’t wearing a bra. Probably weren’t wearing panties either..

Swallowing the ice cold water with a satisfied ‘ah’, you went on your merry way. “Just came to gawk at the bridge troll, is all. Night night!” Your annoying farewell was followed by the creak of the door, and the faint click of it closing.

What a fucking irritating person.

The anger bristled again. Definitely anger. It was there, lurking, when he rubbed at the sore spot on his chin and picked up his phone, unlocking it to stare at the homescreen.

There was no patience within him to find the video. Besides, the sanitized professional thumbnails on the homepage were enough to have him dropping his phone to the cushion crevices beside him, surrendering himself to his imagination. Nothing lived up to the scenarios in his head, anyway.

Before getting ahead of himself, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, and gripped himself wholly. There was no sense in denying what he wanted: the raw desire of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, not caring about creating a mess. It could be cleaned up later. He needed this. Now.

He immersed himself in the fantasy.

The visuals took place minutes ago, if he hadn’t backed down. It was based on you refusing to give him the bed, and instead of walking away from your bratty attitude, he lifted his chin, and broadened his chest with a confidence he didn’t possess. Fantasy Eddie had the courage to kneel on the mattress like he belonged there. Your body would dip, rock towards his imposing knees straddling either side of your calves, and in his strongest dreams, he acted out what should’ve happened.

If he had his way, he would begin with your hips. A single strong palm on the curve would have you hiking them up to greet him, and he was a gentleman. As soon as you presented him with the opportunity, he was scrambling to spread your legs so he could dip between them, eager to please. He wanted to know the sensation of coarse red lace scratching across his tongue; it would be a novelty only he would know. His hands would be on your upper thighs, bringing you closer, closer, to where his mouth awaited you. Persuading your face to the sheets. Putting a wicked arch in your back, granting him permission.

He’d angle his mouth to your clothed clit and collect spit to his bottom lip, parting, and lapping his tongue over the pretty thing, suckling it through the fabric. His nose would be to your cunt, inhaling the musky pheromones. Didn’t matter how long you’d been at work, proving yourself to people who would never appreciate you like he did. He cherished every bit of you so much. The heady scent intoxicated him like a drug, the dimples when he smashed the fat of your ass around his face, your silly whine when he pressed kisses up your pretty pussy. The anger was gone. Like that, he adored you. After all, you craved him. And it’d been a long time since he was wanted. It felt nice to not be rejected.

Eddie, Fantasy You gasped when the wet sound of him sucking your clit through your panties grew in fervor. He was drunk on you. Trying hard. Giving more. Licking at the dark patch he created. God, he loved it. He loved the evidence. He could suckle, moan, flatten his tongue like torture and just breathe on you until he fell asleep, waking up to nudge his teeth over the sensitive areas you presented to him. Spending hours getting you to your peak, over and over.

But in reality, he was approaching his end rather quickly.

My turn, sweetheart, he regretfully informed you.

Getting to his knees, he positioned himself behind you. His cock slotted so nicely against you; red lace meeting unzipped gray uniform pants, and he wasted no time stoking the flames from where he left off.

He clapped your cheeks around the hard outline of his cock. His black boxers stretched to their limits to contain him. There was a dark patch at the tip peeking out between your ass, growing with each slow, assertive grind he committed to, fucking himself into the curve of your cunt with ragged breaths. Losing himself. Mouth agape, and eyebrows pinched as his needy head was swallowed when he rocked his hips back, and reappeared with a rough thrust.

Again, it didn’t take long until he needed a break to make himself last longer.

He draped his weight over you as he slid his rough, calloused palms up the backs of your thighs, creating goosebumps along the sensitive flesh on his way to your sorry excuse for skirt. He bunched the pitiful thing to your waist, and reached for the hem of your shirt.

You hummed in approval, pressing against his lap.

It was hard to balance, but you supported him as he yanked your blouse up–sucking in a sharp breath when you moaned, and rutted yourself on his length–and he brushed his fingers along your soft skin in search for the bra clasp, and when he found it, he pulled the band tight. The latch gave. He caught sudden heft in his palm, cupping you and the bra together, massaging lightly until your nipple slotted between the base of two of his fingers, and he applied the gentlest pressure.

Oh fuck, you whined so nicely for him.

They’re extra sensitive after being caged all day, you explained.

Yeah? Does it feel good?

You nodded, cheek smashed against the wrinkled sheets.

He pinched harder.

Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips, spilling in a sticky string as you dragged your head in another nod, heavy-lidded eyes just visible through your lashes, open mouth panting for him.

True satisfaction spread like weightlessness from the pit of anger in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to be making you feel good, not the person ruining the one place he found peace after six years of paranoia, but here he was, wishing the taste of your pussy lasted longer in his mouth. Here he was, anchoring his forearm alongside yours, gripping the same sheet you gripped while he beared his weight down on you, and pressed kisses to your clothed shoulders.

His other hand was trapped between you and the bed, but each pulse around your nipple was another long stroke on his cock.

The scene had been set. The build up and story line were crafted. Now, he could play.

He worked kisses under your collar, tasting the sheen of sweat at your hairline, leaving trails of spit to cool as he lolled his head on top of yours, resting his forehead amongst your hair, and he put his lips to the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver beneath him.

Do you think you can treat me that way, and get away with it? Fantasy Him asked. Think you can boss me around whenever you want? He punctuated his question with a hard, unexpected thrust, earning a gasp from your pretty mouth.

Turn over. He didn’t command it verbally, but when he took away his hand to smack the side of your ass, and sat back, you were aware of his unstated switch in position.

You laid on your back, legs spread for him. Skirt bunched around your hips, blouse fallen open, except for the one button remaining. He grasped his cock, and stroked himself through his boxers for you. His brows were drawn together in a gentle question, gaze locked onto yours. This was supposed to be about him, but he still asked, Is this okay? Is this what you want?

The source of his anger, his rage, his frustration–all the blame, burdens, and negativity he attributed to a single woman–opened her arms to him, and nodded.

He passed over your pussy to praise kisses to your stomach. Deft fingers working to undo the last button on your blouse, and explore upwards. Wet smacks of his sloppy gifts arched your back the higher he traveled, molding his large hands to your body. Brushing his rough fingers to the junction of your inner thigh and hip, and spreading you open so your pussy swallowed the fabric, wedging the red lace tight to your clit for later. Up, up, his kisses covered you, until he nosed at the underwire of your bra, and lifted it out of the way.

Fuck, Eddie.

You pushed his hair out of his face. The shorter curls fell from the low bun at his nape, and you tucked them behind his ear so you could watch his tongue lap and swirl at your nipple. Your fluttery moans were heaven, as were your tits being shoved in his mouth. You squirmed for him, clamored for him. You wanted him, needed him. Did you care that his hair was greasy? Did you care that dried salt crystals from sweat scratched your fingers when you cradled his jaw? Did you care about his smell from thirteen hours of being in a hot kitchen when you cupped him under the armpits, encouraging him with a buck of your hips to get back to business?

He supposed not, since it was his fantasy.

But just like reality, you were trying to boss him around.

Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?

You could hardly meet his gaze, eyes so heavy with lust you couldn’t keep them open long enough to beg.

He aligned himself, nudging the tip of his cock to your clit, and he savored the experience of watching the bliss wash over you. It took him a beat to realize, but he moaned in response to your moan. Watching you react from where he picked up his head from your chest, memorizing the fake vision of your face losing the usual harsh distaste for him. Your lips were better this way–lush, and making an effort to sound out his name as he drew his hips back–not sneering because you had the displeasure of asking him a question.

Still, he drove forward with haste. Cotton on lace. Layers of separation. Anything else was too intimate for how he wanted to fuck you, rough and fast, caring only about himself and not about your poor neglected clit, swollen and pleading for his soft tongue, only to get rough, unmeasured thrusts. Messy, and unintentional, and denying. Until you made them work for you.

You used the meat of his shoulders as leverage. Digging your fingers in, holding tight as you rocked with him and raised your legs, wrapping them around his ass. The squeeze of your thighs, and pressure built from your locked ankles tipped you into a better position, and now, his entire length was flush to your clit, not simply passing over the top of it.

All of him was touching you, touching you, touching you. Trapping his cock between your stomachs, damp with reignited sweat. Back to rutting against one another at a desperate pace, chasing the tension, the high. The snap of his hips. Your stuttered groans for more. The anger, the hatred. Festering under the surface, bubbling in your insolence. Present in his teeth grazing your throat, nipping at the pulse, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting.

You’re gonna make me cum. Even Fantasy You said it in a lower register, reaching where the molten resentment laid dormant.

He found the same gravelly animosity and warned you, “I’m too close, I’m too close.”

You cradled him tighter, burying your heads in each other’s embrace. Muscles quivering from effort, burning with each grind, tensing under curious hands finding new places to cling to, curves to admire. Until they stayed put.

Nails bit flesh. Strong fingers dug painfully at bone. Mouths fell open. Eyes closed. Writhing flesh on fabric, and flesh, you trembled under him.

I’m–mm, Eddie–I’m cumming–

His thrusts faltered, jerking into short bursts, and his gracious moans went high and tight in his throat, spilling out as he panted, “You make me feel so good, baby. Fucked you so good. I can’t–I’m cumming–fuck–”

Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–

–”Fuck,” he babbled aloud.

The climax took him to the dark apartment. The overwhelming shadows of sleeping in the lonely living room on the flat couch under an extra blanket not yet broken of its factory starch, scratchy on the skin. His muscles were still tensed into him curling in on himself, lifting his aching neck and shoulders off the pillow for a few more pumps of his hand sliding over his slick shaft, spreading the warmth oozing towards his hip, no doubt tangling the curly thatch of hair above the base. In lip-biting silence, he stroked himself, not daring to breathe after he knew he said something out loud from his imagination. He listened. Eyes straining to see the hallway.

His bangs stuck to the heavy sweat on his forehead.

His entire body was heated beyond belief.

Anticipation sat heavy on his tongue.

But as he came down from his peak, nothing happened. He stayed lonely. His heartbeat pounded against the guitar pick sticking to his chest, and that was it. Now his head was cleared of distractions, and he could sleep. The fantasy was a fantasy, and in this reality, he wouldn’t do this again. It was too weird to muddy the multitude of negative feelings he had for you with.. whatever this was.

A release, that’s what this was.

Kicking the blanket off, he swung his legs to the side to sit up, socked feet softened by the plush carpet. He pressed his palm over the sticky substance dripping downward, and soaked it up to the best of his ability. And as his cum hit the fresh air, and his inhale was cut short as he smelled his shirt, he thought about the shower he needed. And he thought about the dark patch on his boxers. And he thought about his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom.

Looking down, he inspected his gray pants, and groaned.

They were ruined.

So, so ruined and obvious as to what he was doing.

There was no way he could go into there and grab new clothes for a shower. The thought of facing you after this, and you seeing him in this pathetic state–and God, if you knew it was because of you, and because he couldn’t control himself–he’d rather die than admit you did this to him.

Fuck.

Couldn’t even go to his own room for some fucking clothes so he could shower after working all day.

Yeah, that confirmed it. He fucking hated you.

Hated you even more when he thought about you sleeping on his mattress, wrapped snug in his bedsheets wearing only a t-shirt with nothing else to cover you, and his dick twitched again for that red lace he knew was discarded in the laundry basket.

“Fuck my life.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #linecook!eddie #roommate!eddie #ex-con!eddie

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nisuna · 10 months

Note

I NEED HEAD CANONS ON PERVBEST FRIEND GOJO AND GETO, MAYBE WITH SOME TAG TEAMING🫣🫣🫣🫣 gojo sticking his hand in your bra(with consent) cause he’s,oh!so cold, and your just so so warm. Geto taking questionable pictures of you, your Twinkie had to much cream in it and it oozed on your face, before you even had the chance to wipe the cream off, he takes a picture, all in good “fun”, Geto and Gojo sharing a collection of photos of you. Maybe they came over to your apartment, after a bit hanging out, you go to get food for the 3 of you, one of them gets curious and starts snooping in your room only to find your vibrator or panties, and maybe just maybe they take it with them after you guys get done hanging out, sharing it with each other cause that’s what best friends do! I’m so sorry this is so horny, I was thinking with my choochie 😕😕😕😕

Okay so first of all I definitely DID NOT expect so many people to vote on my poll so thanks for that 😭✋🏻 and over ¼ of you voted for Satosugu tag team so I am here to deliver :^) I changed some things but I hope you still enjoy and I sincerely thank your coochie for coming up with this 🫶🏻 I too must admit that I was writing this with all of my pussy

Thank you for your take!!<3

<3masterlist<3

~kind of long(?) drabble~ Strictly 18+ Minors DNI

TW: pervy roommates&bff!satosugu, questionable consent at some parts but it's all good in the end, panty stealing, groping, vaginal double penetration, nipple play, marking, biting, hickeys, noncon picture taking, jerking off, it's just very messy and nasty, they start off very mean but they actually really do like you a lot<3, use of good girl, baby, angel, smut with fluff, aftercare

When your two best friends first suggested moving in together you didn't think much of it. You've known each other for a long time and they've always been very kind and helpful. You hang out together all the time anyway, so of course you said yes! And the first few weeks were fine, but then you noticed panties going missing and when you asked them if they saw them anywhere, they just shrugged blaming the washing machine/dryer. Sus, but you didn't think much of it, you trusted them.

You did notice them getting more touchy with you though. Their hands straying to your boobs and ass when they hugged you around the house. The first time Satoru put his hand in your bra you told him off but he just whined that his hands were so cold and you were so warm. Sus. They made you sit on their laps, especially when you were eating something cream filled, bouncing their leg and catching you off guard smearing the cream all over your face. As you went so wipe it off they stopped you, only to stick their fingers in your mouth and snap a quick pic.

And if you dared to speak up they shushed you and said that it's just friends having fun with each other. "Relax, it's not that serious." You thought it was quite serious, but you kept that to yourself for the sake of your friendship. They surely cared about you a lot, right?

Oh boy you had no idea just how much they cared about you. They were highkey obsessed. They obviously always liked you a lot, that's why you were friends afterall. But after moving in with you they realized that they liked you way more than they were anticipating. Of course it was them who stole your panties, breathing in your scent and using the fabric to jerk their throbbing cocks off. And the just for fun pictures they took, oh they had a whole album of them. You didn't even notice most of them being taken. And they made sure to always exchange them with each other if they got some new material.

During movie nights they had you squished between their bodies, one of them softly caressing and squeezing the fat of your thighs, while the other was playing with the hem of your tiny shorts. They liked to think that you wore them especially for them, exchanging knowing grins while your eyes were focused on the tv screen in front of you.

You were just too cute not to tease. Especially when your breath hitched as their fingers got dangerously close to your core. Or when you were clutching onto their shirts when their hot breath and lips hit your neck making you squirm. And after the first time they made you cum, they knew they were hooked. And when they finally had sex with you for the first time, they swore they fell in love. You were so cute and obedient and just so so soft. They loved watching you squirm as you tried to take them like a good girl. To your surprise, most of the time they were really gentle with you while praising you throughout their thrusts.

They both fucked you on their own the first time, but slowly tried to get you used to them both being there. The first few times it was one of them fucking you while the other just watched, dick throbbing in their hand and finishing with cumming on your face or tits. They were also very big on aftercare, spoiling you with anything you needed and praising you for taking them like a champ.

But one day they just couldn't help themselves and thought of a pretty little surprise for you. Suguru told you that he had to leave to run some errands, leaving you alone with Satoru, which ended with you on your side while Satoru was pounding into you from behind on your shared bed.

"'Toruuu~ feel so good you're so deep- ah"

"Yeah? Feels good right, look I'm in your fucking tummy, baby. You're so tiny. 'Can feel myself all the way in there", he whispered as he splayed his hand out over your lower stomach, kissing along the expanse of your neck.

You were too caught up in the moment to even pay attention that Suguru had not left at all and was listening to both of you through the closed door, already undressed waiting for his cue.

"Baby?"

"Hmm?", you mewled arching your back as he played with one of your hardened nipples.

"Can you keep your eyes closed for me for a bit? I want to try something out. Oh, and lift your leg a bit. Thats it, good girl", he praised while holding your leg up by the knee. The new angle making you feel light headed.

You were too fucked out to notice the door opening and closing as a certain someone slipped inside the room. He had to hold back a gasp when he saw you splayed out like this. Completely bare, looking insanely soft and spread wide open just for them. Satoru and him exchanged a look and he slowly made his way over to where the two of you were laying. When the bed dipped under his weight next to you, your eyes opened.

"Hi pretty," he pecked your lips.

"Nnngh Suguru are you back already? I thought you were- ah", you gasped as Satoru rolled his hips into you expertly.

"I never left, angel. We wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me how?" you questioned mouth slightly hanging open and pupils blown wide open.

"We think you're ready to take us both. Would you like to try that, hm? If it hurts too bad we can stop."

You hesitated. Take them both? How? Your questions were answered as you felt Suguru's member prod at your etrance.

"I don't think I can-"

"Oh sure you can, you're so wet. Don't worry, we'll make it fit. You're such a big girl, I'm sure you can take two cocks in your pussy. It's gonna feel so good, I promise."

You were skeptical, but the thought did make you gush around Satoru. He kissed your neck for reassurance as Suguru went to cup your breast, fondling it softly. You felt so nervous, but safe at the same time. You trusted them, so you nodded your head letting out a breathless, "Okay, I'm ready."

"We'll take this slow, we got you."

The first stretch almost make you scream as you slung your arm around Suguru, scratching his back in the process while hiding in the crook of his neck

As soon as they both bottomed out he whispered against your hair, "Shhh it's fine, you're fine. Tell us when you're ready for us to move."

You took a couple of deep breaths trying to adjust to the extreme stretch. After a while you finally nodded and they slowly picked up their pace.

Suguru tried to kiss your pain away swallowing all of your whines in a deep kiss.

"You're doing so well for us, such a good girl.", Satoru whispered against the nape of your neck. And as you felt tears swelling, Suguru made sure to wipe them away smiling at you gently.

After a while it did start feeling incredible you were huffing and puffing as they both moved in sync stuffing you to the brim.

"Feels good", you moaned against Suguru's lips, "more, want more!" And it made you squirm as you felt Satoru suck a deep hickey into the side of your neck.

"Such a greedy girl. But see, I promised we'd make you feel good."

"Yeah, you're so tight and wet for us, good girl. Such a good girl for taking two big cocks so well."

"Want you to fill me up.. please and 'want to cum! Want to cum on your perfect cocks, please make me cum."

Your moans really got to their heads as they picked up the pace fucking into you harder than before.

"Yeah? Wanna cum? Of course we're gonna make you cum, how could we not if you beg so nicely."

"And we're gonna fill you up to the brim, make you nice and plump." with that Satoru moved his hand from your leg to your clit, rubbing thick circles into it, which made you see stars. They were hitting all of the right spots and you felt yourself getting close.

"'m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-!!"

And you swore you saw hearts in Suguru's eyes as soon as you clamped down on their cock, creaming all over them and letting out the lewdest moan they have ever heard you make.

"Ah, holy shit. So good, you're so good for us. Oh my god." Suguru praised as they both continued to fuck you through your high, Satoru's fingers not leaving your clit. You felt yourself get overstimulated as you grabbed onto Suguru's arms digging your nails into them.

"'S too much I can't, I can't-"

"Shh you're almost there, you got it, just a little more."

You bit down on your lip, moaning in the rhythm of their thrusts. But you definitely didn't expect another orgasm to come your way.

"Shit! I think I'm gonna cum again, please don't stop 'Toru.. please dont!!"

"Like hell I would!", he slurred. His arm was starting to burn from the tension, but his rhythm didn't falter, rubbing you through your second high.

And at the feeling if your your tight cunt convulsing around their cocks they lost themselves, filling you up to the brim with their warm cum.

"Oh god I'm so full, it's all the way in my womb, gooood" you cried against Suguru's shoulder as he pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

Satoru kissed the back of your head as the three of you stayed like this for a while, basking in each other's warmth.

You were the first to break the silence, trying to peel yourself from their grasps, "Okay enough.. ah I feel so sticky and uncomfy", you whined. They only chuckled at you being so adorable. Eventually, Satoru was the first to pull out and get up from the bed.

"I'll go make a bath ready and get you a glass of water."

You nodded with a weak smile, feeling Suguru pull out of you as well, but still keeping your body close while stroking your hair.

"Were you comfortable? Did it hurt a lot?"

"At first yes, it hurt quite a bit..", you sighed. "But then it felt really good, I liked it a lot. Thank you for the surprise."

Suguru chuckled against your head, "You're welcome, glad you liked it. I'm very proud of you by the way. You did such a good job."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his praise, but you let out a groan at his next words.

"Sooo.. any positions you'd like to try next?"

And with perfect timing Satoru walked right in on your conversation. "Are you plotting a round two without me??!, he fake gasped, which only earned him a pillow right in his face, almost spilling the glass of water he brought for you.

"Definitely not right now!!"

But it also made you smile at how well you all got along, you were definitely looking forward to your future with them.

-----

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

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quirklezz · 9 months

Text

Rumor has it | Tom Blyth

pairing: Tom Blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary: Ever since the premiere of tbosas fans of yours have been shipping you with your costar, Tom Blyth. Is it all just rumors or were they right all along?

a/n: So I recently discovered Tom Blyth and wanted to make this for fun! Mainly based on those shipper accounts who post updates on their fav couples. Might make this into a series if anyone wants more… in the meantime feedback is appreciated and requests are open!

ynusername some of my favorite bts moments while filming tbosas

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user1 yn giving us more bts content!!!

user2 loved the movie you and Tom have to star in more films together

↳ user3 ikr I love their chemistry

↳ user4 need them in a romcom after seeing tbosas

↳ ynusername a romcom you say? I’m down if @tomblyth is… 👀

↳ user4 OMG NOT HER TAGGING HIM?!? @tomblyth make it happen

rachelzegler 🖤🖤🖤

user5 look how close they are in the second pic I can’t help but ship them

↳ user2 I’ve been shipping them before the movie even came out

↳ rachelzegler I took that one when they weren’t looking sorry not sorry

↳ user1 thank you @rachelzegler for feeding us yn x tom crumbs

tomblythupdates Tom and YN spotted hanging out in New York this weekend

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user1 they’ve been hanging out a lot lately… 👀

↳ user2 looks like their on a date to me

user3 never seen Tom hang out this much with any cast member besides Rachel and Josh

↳ tomblythupdates a fan said Rachel and Josh were there too

↳ user2 so they were on a double date… interesting

↳ user3 lets not speculate anything yet they could still be friends

↳ user6 I was there and they didn’t look like friends to me… that’s all I’m gonna say

↳ user1 omg spill the tea please

↳ user3 let’s respect their privacy even if they are or aren’t dating we should still be happy for them

yntomsources New pictures of @tomblyth and @ynusername from their photoshoot

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user1 they ate and left no crumbs

user4 omg look at my parents

user2 can we talk about the HAND PLACEMENT HELLO?!?

user5 here I thought they couldn’t get any hotter but this changed my mind

antitomyn I’m sure this is just a PR stunt to promote the film they can stop pretending now

↳ user1 imagine being jealous of Tom and YN couldn’t be me ☕️

↳ user2 even if you don’t ship them together have some respect for their work as actors not everything is PR

↳ user4 you can’t fake what they have

↳ yntomsources @antitomyn you have been blocked

tomblyth happy to know I’m not the only one who enjoys croissants on set @ynusername

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user4 now Tom has someone to share his croissant pain with

user1 @tomblyth add her to the croissanicles

↳ tomblyth already did

user2 I feel like Tom got her hooked on croissants and now they’re her favorite

↳ ynusername your right I blame him for my croissant addiction

rachelzegler save me and Josh some this time please

↳user4 this time?!? what happened last time?

↳ ynusername Tom almost dropped them all last time

↳ user4 it’s giving “you almost made me drop my croissant” vibes

↳ rachelzegler 😆😆😆

user5 Seeing Tom and YN together butters my croissant

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction

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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months

Text

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight.

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint?

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest)

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata.

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that.

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder.

“I am not tense,” I gritted out.

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage.

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass.

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine.

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again.

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name.

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore.

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses.

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s.

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again.

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass.

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed.

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see.

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special.

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag.

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now.

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh.

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains.

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm.

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there.

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target.

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.”

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well.

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow.

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear.

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink.

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze.

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off.

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me.

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me.

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over.

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch.

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis.

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief.

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian.

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.”

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff.

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm.

“Oh really?” I sneer.

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body.

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation.

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue.

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows.

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man.

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.

“Azriel I-”

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed.

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

“Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye.

“Azriel I love you,” I confess.

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap.

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine.

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained.

“You have all of me y/n, you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin.

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me.

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders.

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress.

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock.

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me.

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim.

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into.

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace.

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride.

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh.

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me.

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering.

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest.

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned.

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh.

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit the far wall of my room.

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.”

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut

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johnnie-guilberts-eyeliner · 9 months

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Read ur NSFW alphabet for johnnie and was wondering if u could write smth inspired by the dirty secret section? like the reader walking in on him while he's jacking off to pics of her or smth? also idk ur boundaries so I'm sorry if this is overstepping or smth😭<3

pls don't worry anon you're fine 😭

Johnnie Guilbert X fem!Reader SMUT (she/her pronouns used)

Pls lmk how I did! This is my first real fic!

for context you and johnnie have been dating for close to two years now, and you moved in w him and his best friend Jake webber, who is a fellow YouTuber/musician like johnnie. You were going about your day doing your usual house chores when it came time for laundry, you walked into you and Johnnie's shared room without knocking and holding a basket full of yours and his mixed clean clothes. When you opened the door all you could see was johnnie sitting in his gaming chair, phone in hand on your Instagram while the other hand held onto his rather large boner. You immediately dropped the clothes and that's what got his attention. "Oh my gosh baby I am so sorry" johnnie profusely apologizes and dead ass chucks his phone at the bed, which didn't work well for him because it landed face up, showing you exactly what he was looking at. You looked at his phone to see your latest Instagram shoot where you looked extra good in your halter top, miniskirt, fishnets and Platformed boots (you can imagine something else if you'd like) you smiled and looked up at his nervous expression and sauntered over to him. Kneeling in front of him. "aw sweetheart, don't apologize I'll help you" you smiled up at him lovingly before putting your hand on his face and kissing him to which he hungrily kissed back before nodding. You kneeled back down and took his gorgeous cock in your hand before licking the tip and easing his length into your mouth and beginning to Bob your head around him. He can't help but whimper and moan as you do so. As you continue to suck him you look up and make eye contact with him as he let's out a rather loud whimper, signaling he was close. You doubled your efforts and pushed on and kept going and eventually increased speed and that's exactly what he needed to finish, you soon feel his hot seed shoot down your throat. You swallow it before he grabs your face and pulls you onto his lap so you're now straddling him in his chair, and he kisses you hungrily. He tugs at your shorts and you get off him for a second to take your shorts and panties off before getting back on his lap and grinding on his length as he kisses you feverishly again. You then take his cock in your hand and guide it through your folds, earning a moan from him. You line him up with your hole and sit for a moment to adjust to his size. "Always so tight for me babygirl" johnnie moans out as he holds your face and looks into your eyes. No matter how many times yall had sex, you always needed a second to adjust to his size because he's a bit bigger than average. You both moan out loud as you begin to increase your speed in riding him, as speed increases so does the moaning and groaning. He's got his hands around your waist with a death grip. He then leans up and starts leaving hickies and bites in very visible places, which he knew she loved. You moan out at this and increase speed even more to which he responds by pounding into your wet cunt with more speed. "Ooooh johnnie baby 'm close 'm close" you can't help but moan out as you hold his face as he continues fucking you. "cum for me my love" he says as he continues matching your speed and fucking your cunt. And that was all you needed to finish. You finished on a very hard leg shaking orgasm. He followed shortly after "where do you want it baby?" He asks on the edge of orgasm. You respond by fucking down on his cock even more, to which he also came very hard shooting his hot cum Inside you. He kisses you after he finishes, cock still inside you. He picks you up from the chair and lays you on the bed before going Into your shared bathroom and grabbing a wash rag and coming back in to press it to your sensitive and recovering pussy before discarding it in the hamper and crawling into bed with you, pulling the covers over you both and pulling you close into him "I love you so much y/n" johnnie says in his sleepy voice, to which you respond with "I love you too Johnnie, more than you could ever imagine" you say before kissing him again and falling asleep on his chest.

(also pls don't mind any spelling errors💀)

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert x reader smut

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sweetkpopmusings · 2 months

Text

stray kids as love letter confessions <3

a/n: i said that a quote about love was hyunjin-coded and got the urge to write out how stray kids would confess their love. this is short and sweet, but let me know if you want something more! pics not mine <3

content: fluff, romance | wc: 0.6k | warnings: none really! | pairing: stray kids x gn!reader | requests: open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

chan♡‧₊˚

for the longest time, i felt like i needed to stay busy. i was always running toward something, chasing after the next achievement, creating goal after goal, searching for fulfillment. when i met you, it was like i took a deep breath for the first time. you are my sense of peace. you are my place of rest, my solace, my comfort. i can never say thank you enough. please let me be the one to help you breathe easy. i love you.

minho♡‧₊˚

there are so many different ways to say it, and the simplest version is that i care about you. anything i can do to ensure you are cared for is something i’ll do with great pride. i’ll always peel fruit for you, lend you my coat on the coldest days, offer you a safe place from the rest of the world, and be there whenever and wherever you need me. i’m sorry i can’t think of anything original to say on the matter, but i’ll keep trying. i’ll always care for you, my dear, because i love you.

changbin♡‧₊˚

when i look at you, i realize that all that i have was lacking something important before. my life is rich, and i am so grateful, but everything became more meaningful after you became a part of my life. you are critical to everything i have because it is worth so much more now that i can share it with the person that matters the most to me. you have all of me. i love you more than anything and everything.

hyunjin♡‧₊˚

you captivate me. even if i attempted to create something new every day for the rest of my life, i don’t think i could find the words or images powerful enough to portray the way you have enchanted me. you changed how i see the world, how i experience life, for the better. i’ll never stop trying to explain the magnitude of what you make me feel because i love you, endlessly.

jisung♡‧₊˚

knowing you, i finally understand what soulmates are. only something as magical as fate can explain our connection. whether we’re tied by a red thread or written in the stars, i truly believe we are meant to be. it is an unbelievable honor to have you in my life, and it is even more of a gift to be a part of yours. you inspire me. you ground me. i promise that i’ll choose you again and again and again. thank you for finding me. i love you.

felix♡‧₊˚

you are the brightest star in my eyes. when people call me “sunshine,” i think of you, because i have become warmer after basking in your light. thank you for shining in your own way. thank you for teaching me true happiness. i promise to be the best i can be, if only to see your radiant smile shine even brighter. you make everything around you glow. i love you, my star.

seungmin♡‧₊˚

you are better than a dream come true. knowing you surpasses anything i could have imagined, and yet you are real, right here with me. what a surprise, what a delight it is to be with you! every love song must have been written about you, for i cannot think of anyone more deserving of such beautiful, tender love. you have my heart. i love you.

jeongin♡‧₊˚

i can’t say i’m good at expressing all of this, so i’ll state the obvious: i love you. my life is sweeter with you in it. the good times are more enjoyable, and the difficult times are easier to withstand, all because you are with me. as long as you let me, i will be by your side. i promise to always be there because you make me feel as though i'll never be alone again. thank you for everything. i love you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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bruhnze · 3 months

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BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Fluff with a bit of smut, inspired by these pics cause holy hell their arms uhggg, they are fs in boxing lessons together. (imagine watching that, pff id die on the spot).

Summary: Lucy gets a substitute coach for her boxing lessons, but now it's a women, Ona gets jealous.

Wordcount: a very long one sorry; about 3600

Warnings: 18 and up, minors dni, fictional story.

BOXING LESSONS - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

/// 13:04 ///

Lucy and Ona came back from morning training to eat lunch at home. It was one o’clock and they had a rare free afternoon. Usually they wouldn’t be done until three, four or even five in the afternoon.

While eating lunch they discussed their activities. Lucy had her boxing lesson, what she tried to do atleast once a week and Ona wanted to go to the beach with Coco and Narla.

‘’So you have a substitute teacher today?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Yep, got an email from Mateo, him and his wife are dealing with some personal difficulty’s and that’s why someone else will come today, and he said if i like them, i could continue my year with them otherwise it’ll still be Mateo but then we’ll have to make effort with the scheduling’’. Lucy stated.

‘’Well maybe the sub is better than Mateo, cause you said you needed more challenge, no?’’ Ona said.

‘’Yeah’’ Lucy sighed ‘’i didn’t have the heart to tell him, he seemed so distracted lately, so maybe it is for the better, i’m curious about the replacement tho, hope their good’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’i cant wait to hear your stories when we’re back’’

/// 13:48 ///

While Ona got the dogs leashed up and gathered some stuff to take to the beach, Lucy cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen. She tried to keep up with chores now that Ona practically lived with her, when she lived on her own ,she sometimes left the dishes for a day until she got to them.

But Ona liked the kitchen to be clean and Lucy knew that a happy wife, meant a happy life and it helped that she seemed to earn points with Ona everytime she did something around the house.

After the kitchen was spotless she walked to the bedroom, Ona was changing into a bikini. Lucy stripped aswell, but only to change into her gym clothing.

They looked at eachother while getting dressed ‘’it’s a shame we have to go’’ Lucy swooned while closing the gap between her and Ona, now both fully clothed again.

‘’ I can reschedule my appointment with the beach’’ Ona kissed Lucy briefly ‘’but it is probably better that you’re not late with your potential new coach’’.

Lucy kissed her back and sighed ‘’Yeah probably’’.

They gathered their stuff and walked to their cars. Lucy carried the bags while Ona held the leashes with the dogs.

Lucy helped her girlfriend settle everything in her car and gave her one more kiss ‘’see you in few, don’t forget to relax and maybe take some cute pictures of our little ones’’.

Ona smiled ‘’ I will, good luck with your lesson, don’t act too tough, watch your knee and also have fun’’

‘’Thanks mom’’ Lucy laughed causing Ona to push her away. ‘’Sorry that i care about you, stupid, no go before you will be late’’ with that Ona closed her car door.

Lucy waved and then sprinted to her own car, chugging her sports bag on the passenger seat. She connected her phone to the car to put some music on and drove off.

/// 17:04 ///

Ona had been tanning for a few hours almost ready to go back home again, the dogs were still playing with eachother in the sand, until she rembered Lucy asking for some photos.

She put her clothes back on and snapped some pics of the dogs from different angles. When she thought she got some decent ones she packed her stuff and leashed the dogs.

In the car the dogs layed passed out on the backseat, completely worn out by their beach adventure. Ona got behind the wheel and took a selfie of her with the dogs in the background.

She went through her photos and selected one of Narla, one of Coco, one of them together and the picture she just took to send to Lucy.

@Ona: *shared 4 pictures*

@Ona: we had a great time🏖️🏖️

@Ona: we''ll be home in 25

/// 17:58 ///

After Lucy stepped out of her second shower that day, she had put on a black tanktop and grey sweats and got her phone from her bag. Her and Valentina, as the substitute turned out to be called, had lost track of time a bit.

Her phone was full of incoming messages like usual and as usual one name stood out, Ona, she had sent something a while ago. Lucy opened the message and saw the photos, she read that Ona would be home in 25 minutes, she checked the time and realised how late it actually was.

She texted back.

@LucyB: hi bb, cute pics, they look exausthed

@LucyB: did you have them do laps up and down the dunes😂

@LucyB: anyway i’ll be home soon x, just showerd, sry we lost track of time.

Ona answered right away.

@Ona:nw, im making dinner, i think it will be done when you are here

@Ona: so new coach is good?

@LucyB: yeah she’s great, ill tell u bout her when im back

@Ona: drive safely , see u soon

Lucy was tempted to reply -yes mom- but instead she went for a simple heart emoji.

/// 18:43 ///

Lucy stepped in to their apartment and she immediately put her sports bag in the hall closet and threw her dirty sportswear in the laundry basket. Then she walked to the kitchen. ‘’Hola’’

‘’Hi’’ Ona smiled up, she was on her phone standing next to the oven ‘’a few more minutes until its done’’.

Lucy stepped into her girlfriends space ‘’I have experienced better greetings, I don't even get a kiss?’’ Lucy pouted.

Ona looked up now and had to laugh ‘’ofcourse you get a kiss, sorry i was just watching something a-

Ona became silent and blushed, her eyes landing on lucy's upper body, specifically her arms.

She put her phone on the counter and held out her hands and took a bicep in each.

‘’Meu forta guapa’’ she grinned appreciatively.

Lucy looked at her confused but smiley, her spanish was okay but her Catalan not yet ‘’what? guapa i know but forta?’’

‘’I called u fit, forta is like strong’’ Ona said while tracing her hands over Lucy’s shoulders and biceps. ‘’I like this top, it looks nice on you.’’

Lucy grinned ‘’Fit hmm, soc de teva núvia forta y sexy?’’ (am i your strong sexy girlfriend) she tried in her broken Catalan.

Ona smiled, Lucy knew it got her weak in the knees when she talked, or atleast tried to talk in catalan, or spanish.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said ‘’almost, its sóc la teva núvia forta i sexy?’’

‘’Yes you are, meu teva núvia forta i sexy’’ (my strong and sexy girlfriend) Lucy tried seductively.

Ona laughed ‘’Nice try but then its: la meva xicota forta i sexy’’.

Lucy groaned and looked up ‘’ugh i wish i would pick it up quicker, i want to be able to talk to you in your mother tongue’’

Ona held Lucy’s face ‘’I think you’re doing good, very good, you put in effort, and i mean, we have our whole lives to practice, right?’’

Lucy kissed her now, smiling into the kiss she talked as their lips were still connected ‘’are you asking to spent the rest of our lifes together?’’ then she pulled away and looked at Ona ‘’because, yes’’

Ona looked at her girlfriend with a wide smile on her face, ‘’no wasn’t a question, it was a promise, you will never get rid of me’’

‘’I dont want to, i’ll never will’’ Lucy cupped ona’s face and went in for another kiss, as the kiss became deeper and more heated, Ona pulled away suddenly.

‘’Lucy!’’ ona called out ‘’you distraced me, don’t you smell the oven?, quick!’’

They pulled out the tray with vegetables and chicken, it was a bit dark but they could stil eat it. They put everything on the table, including two bowls of rice and Lucy poured two drinks. Sparkling water with lemon and ice.

‘It looks good bub, thanks for making dinner’’ Lucy said as they took place at the table.

‘’no thanks, i'm happy to do it, would've been better if you hadn't distracted me, but okay, now tell me about your new teacher’’ Ona said as she started her meal ‘’If she is as bad as you at losing track of time in the gym i dont know if yous two are the best match’’ she laughed with her mouth full.

Lucy rolled her eyes and chewed until her mouth was empty before she spoke ‘’Valentina is her name, she was a professional, but because of injury she became a coach instead, the session was actually really refreshing, wayyy different from Mateo’s style. We first talked about my goal with boxing, she knew i’m a soccer player and then we talked about injurys for a bit and..,, yeah i don’t know actually, the time flew by, she got called actually, she had to go, so then i showered and saw your messages, but next week we planned a session together again.’’

Ona listened to Lucy, she was happy that Lucy had enjoyed herself but that the new coach was a women, that was something Ona was less happy with, she didn’t know why, but the way her girlfriend said -Valentina- got her feeling jealous.

‘’So how old is she’’

‘’huh? Who, Valentina?’’

There it was again, Ona felt it in her bones.

Lucy sighed ’’hmm, i don’t know actually, i guess about my age or something, maybe youger?’’ .. ‘’why’’ she said as she looked Ona straight in the eyes.

Recognising the fiery pupils that only came up when One was jealous.. wait.. was Ona jealous? Lucy thought by herself, why, how, she hadn't even seen Valentina.

‘’okay’’ Ona said poking at her food.

‘’Is someone a bit jealousss’’ Lucy laughed and stood up from the table standing behind Ona, she tickled her and kissed her neck ‘’You’re crazy Ona, my crazy little girlfriend’’ she kissed Ona’s cheek a few times and then flopped back in her chair.

She changed the subject by asking ‘’How was the beach’’

/// 20:03 ///

‘’So you didn’t even swim huh?’’ Lucy asked

‘’nahhh’’ Ona laughed ‘’It’s nice out, but the sea is still wayy to cold’’

‘’did you know that Valentina swims in the seawater whole year round’’

‘’Does she now’’

‘’Yeah, i talked about my icebath, she said she wish she had space for an icebath but that her house is too small and thats why she just does morning plunges in the sea’’ Lucy said

‘’amazing’’ Ona couldn’t prevent the sarcastic tone it came out in.

Lucy laughed ‘’you don’t even know her, how are you already spiting the women’’

‘’well she seems to have made quite an impression on you, you hardly met her yourself and here you are Valentina this Valentina that’’ Ona couldn’t help pronouncing the name angry, she almost spat it out.

Lucy looked amused at her sputtering girlfriend ‘’why don’t you come with me, next week, then you will find out that you are worrying about nothing’’

Those words sparked Ona’s interest, next to meeting this mystery coach, she also had an opportunity to watch Lucy box, something she was farley interested in. She agreed ‘’yes, that could be fun’’

‘’Good’’ lucy said ‘’now, no more crazy talk’’

‘’Okay, but no more saying other people's names when!’’ One said sternly

Aha, Lucy thought, that was what had bothered Ona, she smirked, ‘’but i like saying Ona’’ she cheekily said, knowing full wel that was not what she meant.

‘’Other people!’’ Ona kicked Lucy under the table, ‘’im not other, im yours’’

‘’Hmm, damn right you are, come here’’, lucy said as she patted her lap.

//// The next week //// 19:16 ////

This session was at night, in the context of the other things they had that week Lucy had planned it that way deliberately. Lucy had sent a message to Valentina asking if it was okay if Ona came along for their session, to which the coach had reacted enthusiastically.

They stepped foot in the gym that Lucy was now a regular at since 2022, in the car Lucy had talked Ona through some of the basics but she had said that she was sure Ona would be a natural.

''Hello guys!'' a low voice called out.

''Hey Valentina'' Lucy said.

Ona stopped in her tracks as she faced the women, she had a completely different picture in her head than the woman with the high bun and undercut who stood in front of her. The woman had two tatted sleeves and she was wearing a muscle tee.

Lucy laughed not understanding why Ona had frozen up, she put a hand on her girlfriends shoulder and said: ''This is Ona, it's actually her first time boxing''. thinking perhaps Ona maybe went shy because she only now realized that she knew nothing about boxing.

Valentina walked over to the pair and put out her hand to shake Ona's ''Hi, im Valentina, you can call me Vale btw, and dont worry i love teaching rookies''

Ona put on a smile ''Good, I can't wait to learn''.

Ona laughed out loud on the inside, oh how she had misjudged this!

As they were warming up Vale was mostly giving attention to Ona, Lucy hadn't thought anything off it, after all, Ona was the beginner. Ona thought it was strange, she could do a warm-up.

Ona started to wonder if Vale was flirting with her when she felt her hand on her lower back for the umpteenth time this warming up and Vale kept coming close to explain things.

She tried to eye Lucy, who was completely caught up in her lunges.

''So are you a soccer player too?'' Vale asked.

''Yeah'' Ona anwsered ''Im with Barca, like Lucy, we're on the same team''.

''Ah so that's how you know her?''

''No, she, well it's a long story but Lucy is my girlfriend also'' Ona laughed akwardly ''It's kinda private though, that's why not everyone knows, but with the fans it's better that way''.

''Ah, thats a shame'' Vale smirked

''What'' Ona frowned, finding the smirk weirdly out of place.

''That the fans can be invasive'' ..''and that you have a girlfriend'' she quietly added, but loud enough for Ona to hear.

Ona knew she had not imagined it and was now stopping completely with the exercise she was doing..

Lucy walked over to them ''ah are you guys also done warming up, now we can start with the fun part'' she said while punching the air.

Ona and Vale laughed, Ona hoped Vale would get the hint and stop with her stupid behavior and they could just box.

While Lucy helped Vale get some gloves and wraps and two hand targets from the storage closet, Vale suggested Lucy and her could give Ona a demonstration of boxing first, a little sparring session, before teaching her.

Lucy agreed, as she liked the idea of Ona watching her and last week she and Vale had also finished with a friendly boxing match, which went quite well as Vale adapted to her pace.

Lucy showed Ona how to put on the wraps and gloves, while Vale helped her a bit. After that Valentine also put her gloves on and she explained the idea.

When they had been dancing around each other for a while and Lucy had done some blocking and hitting and Vale had dodged it and attacked back, going back and forth, things started to get a bit more intense.

Lucy was sweating and had a hard time keeping up with Valentina, she couldn’t help but think Vale was trying to show off. But if you knew Lucy at all, you knew she wasn't going to give up.

Ona had watched it all from the sidelines and couldn’t help but admire her girlfriend working hard in the ring, it was maybe even hotter than watching her play soccer.

A few minutes later, when she was forced into the corner and dived to avoid a blow, she thought it was enough and spoke up. ‘’Right, well I think we have showed Ona what boxing is like’’.

She looked at Ona and smiled, noticing concern on her face but also admiration.

Vale smiled ‘’yup, that was good, well done Luce’’, and held up her fist with the glove around it for Lucy to bump, Lucy looked back and gave in to fist bump her, even though she thought it was weird how Vale was behaving.

‘’Okay lets head over to the bags, and practice some punches’’ Vale said as she stepped out of the ring. She got her gloves of and took the hand targets in one hand and she put an arm around Ona to guide her to the punching bags.

Now Lucy was irritated, did Vale think Ona was just a friend of her or something, she should’ve clarified it when texting about bringing Ona. She quickened her pace to join the other two.

Valentina said to Lucy that she could start with Jabs on the brown bag and then do a drill of crosses and hooks.

Lucy sighed ‘’I think I still need to recover a bit from our session just now, I will do the drills in a second, maybe I can watch how my girlfriend does for a bit’’. She stared at Vale with those last words.

‘’Okay’’ Vale said without reacting ‘’Lets start with some easy drills for you’’.

//// 20:32 ////

Lucy was watching Valentina’s every move, it seemed as if she had completely ignored Lucy's comment and Lucy didn’t like it one bit.

Vale walked away for a second to grab some more attributes and Lucy got close to Ona, ‘’Hey, are you okay?’’

Ona smiled ‘’yeah the boxing is nice, I really like watching you box as well’’

‘’Do you think Valeria is acting strange?’’ Lucy questioned

Ona looked straight into Lucy’s eyes, ‘’Yeah do you notice it too? it kinda feel like she is hitting on me, I even told her you are my girlfriend and you just said it again’’.

Now Lucy's blood was boiling, at first she had thought it was all in her head, that she was just jealous, but now that Ona said she didn't feel comfortable, she felt like she could beat up Valentina. ‘’Do you want to stop? Do you want to leave?’’

‘’I don’t know, I want to do this with you Lucy, I get why you like to do this sport and it’ll be nice to have a hobby together’’

‘’Yeah, we can continue to train together, I’ll just teach you for a few weeks, while I'll search for a new coach and when I find one we will be more on the same level, hmm?’’ Lucy came closer to Ona and whispered ‘’This coach kinda sucks, she’s wayyy to comfortable around my girlfriend’’.

Ona laughed ‘’and I was the one who was worrying last week’’

‘’yeah, but I told you then already that it was not like that, and this is your proof , she has good taste but she should know when to piss off’’

‘’Who should piss off?’’ Valentina asked when she came walking back with some rubber bands and other stuff.

‘’We -, we are’’ Lucy stated, ‘’we just got a call and sadly we have to go..’’

‘’But your phones are in the dressing room?’’ Vale asked suspiciously.

‘’Yup’’ Ona said ‘’It was nice training with you, but we really have to go’’

As they walked away Lucy grabbed Ona’s butt and looked back, seeing that Valentina had seen her do it she slipped her hand under her girlfriends shirt and kissed Ona's cheek and head.

In the dressing room they got their bag and Lucy wanted to get her stuff to take a shower, but Ona grabbed her wrist, ‘’No, we’re supposed to be in a hurry remember, let’s go home’’

‘’No I think she got the part where it was just an excuse’’ Lucy grinned and cupped Ona’s face to kiss her.

‘’I want to go home Luce’’ Ona said softly ‘’let me show you how much I love being yours’’

Lucy gulped ‘’damn, lets go then’’

//// 21:41 ////

Ona quickly opened the door, Lucy following behind her with their gym bag. In the hallway Ona pushed her girlfriend against the wall, ''I liked how you showed her I’m yours when we were walking away'' she said while she kissed her neck, already breathing heavy.

Lucy laughed as she looked up ‘’hm, yeah, well I hated watching her be so up in your space and I will not be working with her again’’

‘’thats a shame because it was kinda hot when you two were sparring in the boxing ring’’ Ona said against Lucy’s ear. ´´Your so muscular´´ she said as she felt Lucy's shoulders and arms.

Lucy lifted Ona up, holding her up with her hands just below Ona´s ass. She always got very horny when Ona adopted such a worshiping position.

Ona straddled her legs around Lucy´s waist and as they were kissing Lucy walked them to the bedroom, when they bumped into the doorframe, Lucy broke their kiss ´´Oh sorry baby, didn´t -

Ona didn't let her finish, ''Sshh, I didn't feel it , you know im a bit of a masochists anyways '' Ona smiled cheekily.

Lucy gulped, she knew Ona liked it rough but it was always special to hear again that Ona really thought it was such a turn on, Lucy herself was more of someone who got off on being praised, maybe that's why their dynamic worked so well.

She threw Ona roughly onto the bed and told her to undress. Ona immediately obeyed and undressed clumsily ‘’wow so well behaved’’ Lucy smirked. ‘’Don’t even have to direct you further, immediate follow-up, let's keep that up, right bub? Are you gonna listen to me really good?’’

‘’Yeah’’ Ona said, voice raspy from being so turned on.

(sorry for edging, but i don't know how to continue so that was it😘)

unless maybe someone has some ideas and sends them my way

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso imagine

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