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#thank you babe I can always count on you lol
petrovna-zamo · 2 months
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Trixie is a Katya blue eyes truther
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daisynik7 · 7 months
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Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 
Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 
Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 
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You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 
Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”
It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 
The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 
You never told me your name.
Why do you want to know my name?
Because I want to know who I’m looking at.
This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 
It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”
“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.
He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 
Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 
“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”
He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”
You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”
“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”
You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 
You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”
“Can I get a kiss now?” 
He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”
“Aw man! Really?”
You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”
You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 
“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”
“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 
“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.
“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 
You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 
You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 
“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”
Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”
“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 
“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 
“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 
“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.
He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 
You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 
He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”
Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 
Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”
You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”
After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 
As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”
You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 
“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”
You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."
He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”
You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.
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lewisvinga · 2 months
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MY man | carlos sainz x fem! reader
summary; nobody knew that carlos was in a relationship until a rumor came about of him dating y/n’s best friend. so she decided enough was enough and finally revealed their relationship, with an extra announcement
fc; dolly zhang
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
note; requested ! carlos last message should say days instead of hours lol, i forgot abt the timeline 😭😭
masterlist !
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !
carlossainz55: te quiero, mi vida ❤️ [i love you, my life] 6 years together and a lifetime of you by my side !
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: carlos🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
yourusername: i love you so much🩷 can’t wait to be mrs. sainz 🫶
carlossainz55: oh trust me, i’m already counting down the days !
username: OH WHAT
username: 6 YEARSSSS??
username: so he isn’t dating y/b/f and is engaged to someone else ??
yourbestfriend: yup! i just helped him pick out a couple of extra gifts for her 😁😁 he was nervous af😭
carlossainz55: my fiancée has very particular taste 😌
yourusername: thank you for my new cartier watch and lady dior to match my engagement ring 🥹🥹🤭🤭
username:she’s gorgeous waittt😍😍😍
username: carlos can u fight ??
username: tbh he looked rlly cute w the other girl ://
username: omg i thought i was the only one !
landonorris: happy for u guys or whatever but do u still have left over food?? y/n’s cooking is phenomenal
yourusername: unfortunately there is not, but i promise to cook for u next time i visit 🥹
carlossainz55: u don’t deserve her cooking.
charles_leclerc: congratulations, mate! about time 😂 liked by carlossainz55 !
alexandrasaintmleux: omg 🥹congratulations! sososo happy for you guys 🫶🫶
yourusername: get ready for bridesmaid dresses 🤭
carlossainz55: we already started wedding planning if u can’t tell ( we need help w flowers ) 😁😁😁😁😁
alexandrasaintmleux: oh of course i’ll help 😌
username: 55 girlies we lost 💔
username: they’re cute asf but he looked good w y/b/f too😭😭
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and others !
carlossainz55: vacations with my fiancée☀️☀️
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: always spoiling me 🥹 tq👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 [ily]
carlossainz55: the best for my best girl , tq❤️
yourusername: that’s MY man btw. MY man. liked by carlossainz55 !
yourbestfriend: pls stop saying i look good w carlos guys he is gross and y/n punches me w every comment 🤕🤕🤕
carlossainz55: i’m not that bad cmon
yourusername: she just hates men ur so cool babe
username:omg she’s gorgeous
username: carlos won the lottery fr
username: the second picture i’m 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
username: she saw y’all’s comments and got jealous 😭😭she’s so me bc if i was dating carlos i’d make sure ppl know he’s my man
yourusername: exactly. MY fiancée
username: so true bestie
username: he got her not just a regular lady dior but a himalaya crocodile lady dior???😫😫😫😫
username: i’m so sick i love them sm already
maxverstappen1: when will u buy me a lady dior 😔😔😔
carlossainz55: you can buy yourself one
maxverstappen1: so can she !
carlossainz55: she’s my fiancée it’s different 🙄🙄🙄🙄
maxverstappen1: i was there first 😒😒
username: 😍😍😍
username: ferrari rlly has the best wags
username: my parents already, i love them 🥹
yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[ caption 1; MY man🤭 ] [ caption 2; 🤍🤍 ]
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munsonhoneybaby · 11 months
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Dustin Doesn't Know | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: As things with Eddie start to go farther and farther, you worry how your relationship would impact Dustin if he found out.
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), stoner!reader, smut, fwb-esque, oral (m and f receiving), balls??, fingering, p in v (protected), praise, implied subspace?? idk if that was coming across tho???
A/N: there’s a lot of stuff about reader that i’m super vague on because i’m thinking of explaining it more in the final part or maybe additional drabbles and stuff like that (she is adopted tho). i really hope that this chapter lives up to the hype and praise that the first one got since it’s taken me three months to update lol. as always lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.
part one | finale | tmic masterlist
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When you heard the soft groan of your window slowly sliding open, you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across your face. Turning around, you were met with Eddie maneuvering his lean body through the window; it wasn’t quite as awkward as you’d expected, but he certainly wasn’t as silent as he’d hoped to be as his feet thudded on your carpeted floor.
“Not too bad, Munson. You’re definitely lucky being a heavy sleeper runs in the Henderson DNA, though.” As you face him completely, he holds out a baggie of weed and a small box. 
Eyebrows furrowing, you took it to examine it further as he explained. “It’s uh– incense. I noticed you lit some last time, figured it was for the smell.”
“Yeah, makes it a little easier for Mom to pretend she doesn’t know.” Opening the package, you placed one of the sticks in the holder and lit the end. “That’s really sweet, Eddie, thank you.”
“Hope the scent is alright ‘n everything, I didn’t really know what you like.” Shrugging his jacket off, he tossed it over the back of the chair at your desk.
Suppressing a smile, you bent down to the drawer next to him to get out your tray and paper again, “It’s actually one of my favorites.”
“Oh,” He seemed pleasantly surprised, but he kept his head down as he took a seat at your desk. “Good.”
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m gonna roll? Why? What’s it look like I’m doing?”
Flicking the back of his head, you replied, “Suit yourself then, smartass. I was gonna do it this time, but never mind.”
“Jeez, touchy,” He huffed playfully as he swatted your hand away. “I don’t mind rolling, I’d be doing it if I were at home right now anyway. Your only job is to sit there and look pretty for me, alright?”
“A little demeaning, but I think I can handle it,” You sighed dramatically. Much like last time, you stretched yourself out on the bed, lying on your stomach as you watched him roll the joint. His fingers handled the paper so delicately, knowing exactly how to roll and pinch it without threatening to rip it. Every now and then one of his rings would drag or clink against the wood of your desk, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together as you remembered the way the cool metal had felt against your hot skin.
“So, how’ve you been doing?” He placed the finished joint between his lips and held his lighter to it as he claimed the first long drag of the night. “I haven’t seen you in a minute.”
“I really am sorry about that,” You answered bashfully. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear I don’t usually do stuff like that.”
“What? You mean invite in guys you hardly know to make ‘em dinner and let ‘em finger you?” Wearing a massive smirk, he held the joint out to you. You accepted it but huffed embarrassedly and his smirk only grew. “Nothin’ to be ashamed of, babe. Christ knows I’m reliving every second, I could recite every gory detail back to you.”
“I don’t know why you’re reliving it. You made me come, got blue balls, and went home.”
“So? Making you come is like seventy-five percent of the fun. Jerking off’ll make up for missing the rest,” He shrugged.
“You really don’t hold anything back, huh?” You croaked around a chestful of smoke.
“Maybe I just don’t feel like I have to with you.” You couldn’t tell if that statement went deeper than this conversation. “Should I?”
“You don’t have to hold anything back with me, Eddie,” You answered honestly. “As long as you behave around my brother.”
He pointed a finger toward you in warning as his lips curled mischievously, “I’ll remember you said that.”
Rolling your eyes, you take a couple extra hits from the joint before passing it back. He watched as you laid back on the bed, closing your eyes and slowly exhaling, the smoke billowing upwards. Eyes wandering down your body, he took in the way your shirt had rolled up to show the flesh of your tummy, how the band of your thong peeked out of your pajama pants– a different pair than last time– and accentuated the dip of your waist. He wondered how many people had gotten to see you like this; he wondered if they really appreciated it. 
“You’re about to get ash on my carpet and I’m gonna have to kick your ass,” You spoke abruptly, breaking him from his reverie.
“I’m shaking, babe,” He monotoned as he ashed it in the tray.
“You should be.”
“What’s with you, hm?” He stood and placed the joint between his lips, lifting his arms to stretch his back and shoulders. His voice was teasing as he stepped toward your bed, toward you.“Bein’ so mean to me today. You know, you were a lot nicer the last time we smoked together.”
Scooting over to make room for him on the bed, your eyes caught on the faint trail of hair leading into his jeans before lifting to meet his. Reaching out to take the joint back, you said, “‘M not being mean. Just keeping you in line, Munson.”
Crawling into the bed beside you, he settled on his side, head resting in his hand. “Probably a good idea.” Hoping his fingers weren’t twitching with nerves, he slowly grazed them over the soft skin of your stomach. “You know I’m always gettin’ into trouble.”
“I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you,” You posited, taking yet another long drag.
“A close one,” He hummed in agreement. His touch moved up your stomach, raising goosebumps in its wake as your head slumped against his shoulder. “This okay?”
Though you were leaning into his touch, you asked, “Do you think this is a bad idea?”
Eddie’s hand froze and he leaned back slightly to try to look at you. “What? What do you mean? Do you think it is?”
You didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. You’re just so important to Dustin and I don’t want to change the way he sees you. I would never want something between us to affect your relationship with him.”
“In the nicest way possible, babe–” He brushed your hair back from your face, finally locking eyes with you. “You worry too much. We’re both adults, alright? Even if something were to happen, I wouldn’t let Dustin get caught in that. We’d work around it, y’know? I think we could be mature about it. If things went bad, that is– and I mean, I don’t really think they would–”
You stretched your neck to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Careful of the now-unlit joint still in your hand, you squeezed his side. “You’re probably right, Eds.” Your lips trailed to his jaw, lined with a light smile. “I won’t worry about it anymore tonight, I didn’t mean to get you worked up.”
His cheeks flushed and he mumbled only half-jokingly, “‘M not worked up. Just don’t want you runnin’ out on me just yet, you’re actually kinda cool.”
Your eyes softened and your hand slid from his side to his chest, “I won’t go anywhere, Eddie. You don’t have to worry about that. Now,” Pressing against his chest, you urged him onto his back so you could straddle his thighs. He bit down on his lower lip, looking up at you with eager eyes. Slipping your hand into his jeans pocket for his lighter, you continued, “Enough with the heavy. We still have half a joint to finish and I seem to remember getting interrupted in the middle of something important the last time you were here.”
“You know, you really don’t have to feel obligated,” He reminded you. Still, his hands immediately wandered from your thighs, up your sides, and back.
“Who said I felt obligated, hm?” The pads of your fingers brushed his lips as you placed the lit joint between them. “Maybe I’ve just really been looking forward to making you come.”
A cloud of smoke rolled from his mouth as he groaned, clutching your hips to draw you further toward him. “Fuck, keep talking like that and it’s gonna happen way too soon, sweet thing. Been thinkin’ about it, huh?”
“Haven’t stopped thinking about it since you left,” You answered. “About what you’d do when you got home.”
“Yeah?” His hand crept beneath your shirt, running up your spine before guiding you closer. “That’s cute, baby. Thought about me stroking my cock and thinkin’ how much better that pretty pussy would feel instead? You didn’t touch yourself after I left, did you?”
Hips already grinding down against his, you lightly pinched his side. “None of your business.”
“Wait, seriously? I was just fucking around, did you actually make yourself come thinking about me beating off?”
Your head fell back and you let out a laugh that was way too loud for the time of the night. “Eddie, what the fuck?”
He said your name, tone far more serious than his statement required. “You have no idea how fucking hot that is. You’re actually about to make me bust in my pants.”
“Well don’t, alright? We were just getting to the good part when somebody got sidetracked,” You teased. Leaning down, you let your lips graze his and smiled. “Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel, yeah?” After pressing a quick peck to his lips, you sat up. “Take off your shirt.”
“Bossy,” He muttered with false exasperation. As he yanked his shirt over his head and whipped it across the room, he felt your hands drift to the button of his jeans. He tilted his chin to kiss you deeper than before. 
“Of course, you have more tattoos,” You huffed.
He might have asked if that was a problem if he hadn’t picked up on the subtle whine behind your voice. “Mmm, should’a known you’d dig the tatties. I’ll give you a tour later, huh, sweetheart? Wouldn’t wanna get sidetracked again, would we?”
“You’re a jackass, y’know that?”
“I think I’ve been told once or twice, yeah.” Hand framing your jaw, his rings pressed into one side of your neck as his left slow, open-mouthed kisses along the other. “Pretty baby,” He hummed lowly against your ear. “Bein’ so good to me.”
“You still haven’t let me show you how good I can be,” You replied breathily. 
“I just keep on distractin’ you, huh?” He pressed a couple playful kisses to your lips before asking, “Want me to let you get back to work?” Before he’d even finished his sentence, you were unzipping his jeans and scooting backward to tug them past his hips.
“Fuck, I knew you’d be big,” You whined as you eyed the outline of his length within the confines of his boxers.
“I’ll try not to let that go to my head,” He jested with a smirk. 
“I’m sure it will anyway. That’s okay though, your confidence isn’t misplaced, Eds.” When you finally pulled his boxers down, you practically had to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan at the sight. His cock twitched against his lower abdomen, precome almost dripping into the hair there. “Eddie, shit. Gonna taste so good.”
The way his length jumped at the sound of your voice almost had you drooling. He held your hair back from your face, thumb rubbing over your cheek as your hand wrapped around his base. “So fuckin’ dirty, gettin’ all desperate to suck my cock. Go on, baby, I won’t keep you waiting anymore.”
“I think I’m the one who’s s’posed to be saying that,” You hummed. Leaning forward, you let spit drip from your lip to the head, slowly stroking him. 
“Don’t sweat it, you’re worth holding out for.” His words already held a faint pant. As your tongue traced his length he tightened his grip on your hair. When your lips finally wrapped around him, his mouth fell open, a shaky breath escaping him as he hits the back of your throat. “Shit, definitely worth it.” Eyes glazed, he watched how your cheeks hollowed around him, how your lashes fluttered as you kept your eyes down. “Look at me, sweet thing. Gimme those eyes.” Nervously doing as he asked, your gaze locked with his and he stifled a groan. “Too fuckin’ pretty.” 
His hand still sweetly held your hair back from your face as you let his cock slip from your spit-soaked lips, mouthing sloppy kisses along it until you reached his balls. Your tongue laved across one and his eyes rolled back, head falling against your pillows. “What the fuck,” He groaned incredulously. “You’re fucking unreal. I have to be dreaming right now.”
“Vivid dreamer,” You quipped lowly.
Smirk never leaving his face, he tugged lightly at your hair, drawing a small gasp from you. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had this dream, sweetheart. Definitely never felt this good before, though.”
“Glad I’m living up to your expectations, Munson.” Taking him back into your mouth, the musky taste of his precome coated your tongue. The moan he fought to hold back became a whimper as you lapped up every drop. Resisting the urge to gag, you bobbed your head further until your nose brushed the dark curls around his base. Your nails dragged lightly over the ink winding around his hipbone, making them jerk in response. 
“You have no idea,” A whine was beginning to leak into his tone. “‘M already close, baby. You’re s’fucking good. Such a good girl for me.” Hand cradling the back of your head, his hips rutted carefully to meet your movements. Nails digging into his hips encouragingly, you tried to keep your eyes on him as the rise and fall of his chest grew more rapid. “Fuck, you’re g’nna make me come.” You moaned eagerly, vibrations making his thighs tense. 
Not wanting to pull your hair too hard, Eddie clutched your bedding instead. His other hand formed a fist which he bit down on, huffing out ragged breaths around it in an attempt to keep quiet. You could feel his cock twitch as his come filled your mouth and a tremor ran through his body as he watched you swallow all of it.
He was still panting as you crawled to his level, planting a far-too-sweet kiss on his lips and smiling. Shaking his head, he breathed, “Too fuckin’ good.”
“Happy to return the favor.”
“Fuck favors.” His hand found a home in your hair again as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. His free hand lifted your shirt until you leaned back so he could tug it over your head. “I just want you. Are you alright with that?” You just looked into his eyes for a moment– silently communicating something that you weren’t sure either of you fully understood– before your lips met his again, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. Calloused fingertips brushed down the sensitive skin of your neck and over your chest to your nipples. You shivered, goosebumps pebbling your skin as he teased them with the pads of his thumbs. Your mouth fell open against his and his teeth nipped your lower lip. Trailing a few kisses along your jaw, he murmured, “Pretty baby.”
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps in the hallway followed by the bathroom door creaking made you both freeze. You glanced at your bedroom doorknob to ensure it was locked before you and Eddie both eyed the alarm clock on your nightstand. It was almost a quarter past three in the morning and Dustin would be getting up for school in less than four hours.
“That’s my cue, isn’t it?” He pouted.
“I think so,” You sighed. Lifting your hips, you allowed him to fix his boxers and jeans before he handed you your shirt. “We can hang out again soon though, okay?”
“Yeah,” He snorted, crawling out of your bed to search the other side of the room for his own shirt. “‘Hang out’. ‘Cause I do this with all my friends, y’know?”
“I’m sorry, do you want me to say you can sneak in my window for head again?”
Laughing, he pulled his shirt over his head and slipped his shoes back on before walking back over to you. His hands cradled your jaw, tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes from where he stood between your legs. “Maybe I wanna give you head next time, hm? How ‘bout that?”
Body heating embarrassedly, you tried to look anywhere but his eyes. “I’ll consider it.”
“Mmm, good.” He pressed a long, slow kiss to your lips before hesitantly pulling back. “I’ve got a lot to think about until the next time I see you.”
“I’ll call you, okay?” 
Grinning, he swiped his thumb over your cheek one last time before he headed for your window. “I’ll be waiting, Henderson.” He ducked back out the window and you peeked your head out after him. Throwing you a quick wink, he started to cut across the yard where he must have parked a few doors down, lighting a cigarette on his way. This was far from the last time Eddie Munson would make an escape from your window.
Letting out another sigh, you kicked off your pajama pants and climbed back into bed. After spending nearly an hour tossing and turning, your hand found its way between your legs, seeking relief so you could finally fall asleep.
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Nearly four weeks later, you were watching TV in the living room when the boys came in after school. Dustin threw himself down on the couch with a loud groan while Lucas and Mike both sat down with much less dramatic frustration. “I just don’t understand why they can’t rehearse somewhere else, Hellfire uses the same room every week and they’ve already kicked us out once!”
“Well, it is the drama room and they are rehearsing for the school musical,” You reminded him, going to the kitchen. He grumbled something unintelligible in response as you poured glasses of water for all three boys. “You guys could always have Hellfire here again. Gives Mom a reason to get out of the house and I don’t mind having you guys as long as you don’t totally trash the basement.”
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, cautiously. “...Will you make snacks ‘n stuff?”
Rolling your eyes, you ruffled his hair which made him swat at your hand as you answered. “I suppose I could do something like that. I’m not making anything extravagant though. Let me know if there are any allergies I should know about.”
“Should someone call and ask Eddie?” Lucas piped up. “You know how he can get. He probably won’t like not having his throne again.”
“Eddie would probably have Hellfire here every week if he could,” Mike scoffed. After a none-too-subtle look from Lucas though, he glanced at Dustin, then you, and seemed to think better of it. “‘Cause of the uh- snacks, y’know.”
“Right, anyways–” Lucas took over, inconspicuously trying to guide the conversation back on track. “Someone should probably call him and let him know so he can tell the rest of the guys.”
Over the course of the past month, Eddie had snuck in a grand total of three times, and between these secret smoke sessions you managed to squeeze in conversation at the weekly Hellfire meetings. You called him every now and then when no one else was home, but that was it. While you suspected he’d told Jeff and Gareth, you definitely didn’t believe he would say anything to Lucas or Mike. Whatever suspicions they had, you just hoped they wouldn’t share them with Dustin.
You raised an eyebrow at the two of them questioningly and, in almost perfect sync, they stood and said, “I’ll do it!” You still had no idea how they got away with lying to their parents so often.
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You suppressed a smile as you heard Iron Maiden’s “Phantom of the Opera” slowly growing louder until Eddie’s van creaked to a halt in your driveway the next week. The music cut out, replaced by voices and doors slamming. He didn’t even knock before he walked in, Jeff and Gareth in tow. Wearing a wide grin, his dimples were on full display as he leaned across the counter separating the front room from the kitchen. “Heard all this was your idea. You obsessed with me or somethin’, Henderson?”
“Excuse me for trying to be a good big sister, I’ll let them kick you to the basement with newspaper and AV club next week.”
He opened his mouth to respond but got distracted when he caught sight of just how much food you made. It looked like you were hosting a potluck; there were three different crockpots plugged in, at least four covered pots on the stovetop, and countless bowls and foil-covered plates scattered across the countertops. “Woah.”
“Did you make all this?” Jeff asked as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Yeah, I hope you didn’t eat anything before you came. I may have gone a little overboard.” 
The three of them grabbed paper plates and Gareth chimed, “How long were you cooking?”
“I don’t know uh– since around ten this morning? It’s really not a big deal. Dustin was at school all day and Mom was at work and I had the day off anyway, figured I had nothing better to do.” You shrugged, turning to get a few glasses out of the cabinet for them. “You can drink whatever outta the fridge. The boys are already downstairs digging in, of course.”
“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do so much. We would’ve been thrilled for a couple bags of chips and a two-liter.”
“Yeah, seriously. Thank you,” Jeff added, he and Gareth piling their plates high.
“It’s my pleasure, guys. Really.”
Eddie’s plate was still empty in his hand, waiting up for them to head to the basement so he could get a moment alone with you. The other two noticed, exchanging a knowing glance before making their way toward the basement door. “We’ll go ahead and start setting up.”
“Thanks, I’ll be down in a sec,” Eddie nodded. When the door closed behind them, he set his plate back down on the counter. “They’re right, you really didn’t have to do all this, sweetheart.”
“Gave me something to do with my day,” You insisted. “You’d better eat some or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna eat. You’ll be lucky if there are leftovers.” He spared a glance at the basement door before his hands found the counter on either side of you, trapping you between his arms. “Maybe tonight I can come back for dessert?”
“I already made cookies and peach cream puffs–”
He interrupted you with a laugh, “C’mon, now you’re practically setting me up for it.” You shoved at his shoulder, fighting back another smile, and he leaned closer anyway. “How about I just come back to thank you for all your hard work then?”
Tilting your chin up, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and replied, “How about you make your plate and eat your food first and I’ll think about it?”
“I’m already on it. I’ll get seconds, too. I’ll get fuckin’ thirds, babe, you’ll see. The way to my heart is through my stomach.”
“Save the theatrics for the game downstairs, hm? They’re waiting on you.”
“You in a hurry to get rid of me or something?” He asked, maybe two-thirds playfully. 
“You’re here for Dustin is all,” You shrugged, toying with a loose thread on his Hellfire tee. “He’s expecting you down there and you know how he is, he won’t have any problem asking me questions about what takes us so long when we see each other.”
His thumb rubbed careful circles against your upper arm. “I really think you’re reading too much into it. You’re his big sister looking out for him and I’m the head of his school club, we’ve got plenty of stuff to talk about. Dustin’s not gonna notice  if we make conversation for a few minutes whenever we see each other.” His tone grew more joking as he added, “Besides, I seem to remember being owed a certain phone call that I’ve yet to receive.”
“It’s been a week. I can’t sneak you in every night, alright?”
“You would if you could though, right?” He smirked.
Shoving him away, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, Eddie the Banished is now officially banished from my kitchen. Get your food and go downstairs.”
His eyes narrow at you as he started making his plate. Between crunches, he spoke around a mouthful of chips. “You’re a bully, you know that?” 
Grabbing a roll of paper towels, you tucked it under his arm for him to take down to the rest of the boys. “Just make sure you all clean up after yourselves and maybe I’ll let you come back over after Dustin goes to Mike’s.”
“You drive a hard bargain, babe.” He stole a quick kiss before making his way toward the basement door. “But you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll try and keep the noise down.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t.”
When he left about two and a half hours later, he only drove two blocks away, circling around long enough for the younger boys to have ridden their bikes away from the Henderson house. “I could get used to usin’ the front door,” He chimed as he strolled back in. “Think I pulled a muscle squeezing through your window last time.”
Having changed into an old Judas Priest tee and pajama shorts, you were sealing the last few containers of leftovers and putting them in the fridge. “Uh oh, should I start looking for a new dealer?”
“See, that? Mean. So mean.”
“How about I let you go ahead to my room and light the joint sitting on my nightstand? Would I be less mean then?”
He frowned, taking a step in your direction instead. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help you clean up?”
“I’m already almost done, it’ll just be a minute. Promise.”
“If you say so,” He drawled as he headed down the hall to your room. The door creaked as it closed halfway behind him and he looked around your room yet again. He liked being in here, being surrounded by you. He hoped you wouldn’t find it rude that he opened the drawer he’d seen you keep your incense in, lighting a stick and placing it in the holder. The radio was already turned down low when he turned it on, a cassette of Black Sabbath still inside. Then he cracked open the window, taking off his shoes and jacket afterward. 
Holding the joint between his lips, he lit it and tossed the lighter on the bed before continuing to look around. A few necklaces were hooked over the corner of the mirror that hung on your wall. Mascara, rings, and a couple pairs of earrings were left out on your vanity. On your dresser, there was a framed picture of you and Dustin in the Hawkins middle school, your arm around his shoulders as he flaunted a science fair ribbon enthusiastically to the camera. Bottles of lotion and perfume sat beside it and he was obviously lacking a healthy level of self-restraint as he picked one up and popped the cap off to smell it.
He nearly jumped three feet in the air when you spoke up from behind him. “Did you wanna take a pair of panties too or…?”
“Well, if the offer’s on the table–” Still, he had on a sheepish expression as he turned to face you. “I’m sorry, that was probably totally weird of me–”
“Maybe it’s weird of me that I don’t mind,” You shrugged as you took the joint from him and sat cross-legged on your bed. “Thanks for getting everything ready in here. Obviously, I don’t need to tell you to make yourself at home.” 
He sat down backward on the chair at your vanity, facing you though his head was tilted toward the floor. “I swear I wasn’t like– actually snooping through anything. I just looked around the room.”
“Eddie, you don’t have to defend yourself. You were smelling perfume that was sitting out, it’s not like you were rifling through drawers. I told you you could be in here by yourself, I wouldn’t have left anything out I wanted kept private. Besides, I trust you.” Leaning forward, you passed him the joint. “And you don’t have to sit all the way over there.”
“You really aren’t upset at all?” He looked up at you through his lashes.
“Would you just get in the bed? The house is gonna be empty til at least 11:30 and we’ve still got half a joint. I was thinking of possibly smoking a bowl too.”
Suppressing a smile, he settled into the bed beside you. “So, does that mean I still get the panties?”
You replied by jabbing him in the side with your sock-covered foot, but his fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling your leg across his lap. He traced patterns along the bare skin of your legs as he watched you smoke, occasionally squeezing at your calf or thigh. Feeling a little jittery as the quiet held out, he murmured, “I like your shirt.”
“Thank you, Eds,” You hummed back.
Your little amused smile made his cheeks flush faintly. “Welcome.”
He was flooded with a wave of déjà vu as you crawled into his lap, cupping his jaw to exhale smoke into his mouth. “This feels awful familiar.”
“Well, we’ve got more time than usual.” One hand wandered the expanse of his chest through his shirt as the other placed the dwindling joint between his lips. “I was thinking maybe we could finally finish what we keep starting.”
“You sure we aren’t gonna get interrupted this time?” He asked jokingly.
“We’ve got plenty of time,” You reassured him with a small smile.
“Good.” He drew you closer, “‘Cause I’m thinkin’ we don’t need to go so fast tonight.” Your eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his lips to your skin, the kisses he left growing sloppier as they moved farther down your neck. A small chill shook his shoulders as your fingers grazed the nape of his neck, caringly gathering his hair into a fluffy bundle and loosely tying it back. So fuckin’ precious. “Thank you, sweetheart. You always think of everything, don’t you?”
“I try.”
Hand cupping the back of your head, his lips molded to yours in a long, slow kiss. As he did, he urged you onto your back, fingers grazing your lips as he settled the joint between them. “That’s enough of that. You don’t have to think anymore tonight. I just wanna take you apart, okay? Make you feel good.” His fingers slipped beneath both your shorts and underwear, gently tugging them past your hips. “Been thinkin’ about this for weeks.” The way he pushed your legs back toward your chest had you spread wide for him, your arms rising to cover your face bashfully. Warm hands eased back and forth along the backs of your thighs as he pressed kisses to the delicate skin at the creases of them. “Fuck, you even smell good.”
Eddie actually moaned when he finally tasted you. His tongue soothed over your clit before delving inside you, hands grasping at any part of you he could touch. Meanwhile, your hands were weaving into his hair, further dishevelling his already-messy bun. “Eds,” You breathed.
He briefly pulled back just enough to pant, “Can you take your shirt off? Please? Wanna see you.”
The second you lifted it over your head he was groping at the newly exposed skin, back to burying his face between your thighs. Looking up at you with those big, brown eyes, he zeroed in on your clit. You gasped, “Oh my god, right there.” When he eased his middle finger inside you, curling it to prod at a sensitive spot, you were unable to stifle a squeal.
“I’m just hittin’ all the sweet spots, huh? Pussy was made for me, baby.” Your hand found his free one on the bed, fingers lacing with his as the other remained in his hair. “That’s right, I’ve got you.” A second finger joined the first inside you, spreading you open. Devoting his effort to making you come, his mouth only ever broke away from you to coo the most knee-weakeningly dirty words. Things like, “Want you to come all over my fingers ‘n’ then I’ll stretch you out with my cock, okay? Know you’ve been waitin’ for it.”
“‘M almost there, Eddie, please. Need more.” Distress colored your tone, muscles tensing and un-tensing sporadically. His hand released yours, choosing to drag the pad of his thumb over your nipple instead. The careful pinch he gave afterward made your toes curl.
Feeling your walls squeeze around him, he fractionally sped up the movements of his hand, tongue still tormenting your clit. Quiet gasping moans overpowered the sound of the music as you clutched at the t-shirt covering his shoulders. “That’s my girl, let it out. I’m right here.” He waited until you’d relaxed to gently draw his fingers from you– arms covering your eyes and forehead as you caught your breath, you didn’t see him lick them clean. His palms were warm and slightly rough as they moved over your stomach and sides, “Still with me, sweet thing?”
“Yeah, yeah ‘m here,” You sighed airily. “Just waiting for the stars in my vision to go away.”
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe.” His lips made a path up back up your stomach, sloppy kisses and gentle bites ravishing your skin. Instead, you urged him to kiss you before finding the hem of his Hellfire t-shirt to yank it off. Your nails scraped gently over the tattoos on his chest and he shivered, clutching your hips to his. The icy cold metal of his handcuff belt buckle met the heat between your legs, making you gasp into his mouth. You reached down, fumbling to undo the handcuff design. “Easy, baby, lemme do it.”
Standing from the bed, he took his time working his belt and jeans open, eyes slowly raking over you. His lips curved into a subtle smile making your stomach flip. The way Eddie looked at you sometimes was almost overwhelming. You could see the tip of his tongue poke out from the corner of his mouth as he pushed his pants and boxers down, immediately climbing back over you. “Condoms in the nightstand,” You mumbled against the demon head inked on his pec. 
He reached over to open the drawer, chuckling at the pre-packed bowl in the corner and grabbing a condom. You surprised him by taking it from him, tearing it open, and pulling him down for another long, slow kiss as you rolled it on for him. Humming as you slowly pulled apart again, he said, “You’re kinda fuckin’ adorable, you know that?”
“Don’t be a dick,” You pouted against his lips.
“You always think I’m teasin’ you and I’m not.” His nose brushed your cheek as he murmured, “Just think you’re the sweetest little thing. Let me appreciate you.”
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck a little bashfully. “Wanna feel you, Eds.”
“I’ve got you, honey, don’t worry.” The first few inches already had you clenching around him as he pressed in. His fingers laced into your hair, gently tugging your head back enough for him to watch your face. “There she is. Doin’ okay, pretty girl?”
“Feels so good,” You breathed out. Your voice sounded strained like your throat was tight. “S’big, Eddie.”
“I know, but you’re takin’ me so good. Doin’ such a good job, baby.” He brushed your hair away from your face as he gazed down at you, his thumb stroking over your temple. “Tell me if you wanna stop.”
Your nose brushed his when you shook your head no, nails digging into his shoulder blades. Eddie gripped your thigh, hitching it over his hip. Eyes closing, you didn’t see the way he watched you as he pulled out nearly completely before pushing back in. He admired how your eyebrows furrowed a little, your lips parting with a reserved moan. You still weren’t letting go.
He was gonna change that.
Forgoing the slow pace he’d been giving you to adjust, sudden quick thrusts of his hips had your eyes opening. You blinked up at him with glassy eyes. Thighs squeezing at his sides, you clung to him. Still supporting himself on one arm, the other snuck between your bodies to find your clit. The broken moan you let out made him smile. “S’that what you needed to make some noise for me? Love hearing you, sweetheart.” He hissed as your nails dragged down his back, but that smile never left his face.
Heat licked up your legs starting from the soles of your feet, your stomach tightening as a second orgasm crept up on you. He could tell when you came again, feeling your walls spasm around him while pitchy whines you couldn’t suppress escaped your throat. “Shit,” He panted out. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. C’n I keep going?”
Nodding, you crossed your ankles behind his back, legs wrapping more comfortably around him and caging him in closer. “Wan’ you to come, Eddie.”
“Jesus, babe, won’t take long if you keep doin’ shit like that.” He kissed you, but your lips fell open against his as his cock ground deeper into you. “God, this pussy’s fucking perfect, baby.” His grunts became pronounced groans as your hands tangled in his hair, hair tie barely hanging on. He gripped your thigh so tight you knew you’d look for fingerprints the next morning. You tugged his lower lip between your teeth and his hips jerked, burying himself as deep inside you as he could when he came.
Neither of you loosened your hold on the other for another minute or two– you just tucked your head into the crook of his neck and let your palms explore the expanse of his back while you both caught your breath. His weight was warm and grounding on top of you, calloused fingertips grazing back and forth along your side.
When you let your head fall back against the pillow you were met with Eddie’s big, warm eyes and soft smile. It was a little flustering, you could only meet his eyes through your lashes. “What?”
But he didn’t answer. He just cradled your face in his hand and delicately molded his lips to yours. It was only after that that he finally pulled out, making your legs twitch around his waist before letting him up. He tied off the condom and threw it away and as he pulled on his boxers, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom? I’ll get some water and get the bowl ready.”
“Thank you, Eddie,” You hummed quietly in response.
“Don’t need to thank me, sweet girl.” He handed you your shirt, watching you pull it on and head for the bathroom before he went to the kitchen.
Finding him back in your bed, bowl and lighter in hand, you didn’t hesitate to crawl in with him. Your back against his chest, he offered it to you and lit it as you took a hit. His arm settled around your waist and your fingers loosely wrapped around it. He took a decent hit for himself and finally spoke again as he breathed out the smoke. “Is everything alright? You’ve been kinda quiet– I can go if you want.”
Your hold on his arm tightened slightly. “No, not at all. Sorry, I’m just kinda…” Searching for the words, your thumb tapped impatiently on his skin and you nuzzled yourself further back into him.
“That’s okay,” He reassured. “I think I get it. Take your time, baby, whatever you need.” You hit the bowl again, letting him hold it for you this time and resting your head against his chest afterward. Eddie looked down at you, your eyes closed as you sighed out smoke, and he was taken aback again by how open you were being with him– how much you were trusting him with. Warmth filled his chest at the realization that you were letting him take care of you.
Over the next few minutes, your head seemed to clear a bit. Taking a drink of water, your eyes finally met Eddie’s again, giving each other a small smile.
“So, I’ve got a proposal for you,” He began.
“I’m listening.”
He passed the bowl back to you, gaze following your movements as he spoke. “I wanna spend time with you. Not just sneaking in to fuck around or stealing a few minutes when we see each other at Hellfire, I mean really spend time with you. Let me take you out to dinner or– or come watch a movie at my place or something.” His nerves rose as he kept talking, seeing your eyelids sink lower as you inhaled a lungful of smoke.
He fidgeted with the chain around his wrist until you breathed out a response. “Okay. It’s a date.”
 His face split in a grin, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
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part one | finale | tmic masterlist
tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trinuh @cantreadbutcute
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(so tumblr doesn’t eat the end of my fic again)
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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months
Text
Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol
Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here
„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.
You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.
You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.
“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.
“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”
You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.
“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.
“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”
“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.
“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.
“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”
“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”
With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.
“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.
“Love you too!”
-later-
“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.
“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.
Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…
“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.
“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”
You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.
“Who said I will?”
Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.
You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.
“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.
Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…
“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.
They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.
But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.
Megumi.
You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.
“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.
But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.
You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.
But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.
“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.
In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.
“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.
“What is this?”, he hisses.
Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.
“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“
“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.
“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.
“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”
Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.
“We need to get back to work!”
“No”, he interrupts you roughly.
“Not you, you’ll stay here.”
You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.
“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.
“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”
You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.
Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.
It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.
“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.
“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”
As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.
“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.
His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.
“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.
“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.
“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”
2K notes · View notes
surftrips · 4 months
Note
Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing
thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)
when you know, you know
pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.
word count: 3.5k
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"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse. 
You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date. 
You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready. 
As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat. 
JJ: Wtw tonight?
Not now JJ, you thought. 
Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/
Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(
Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx
JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?
Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.
JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo! 
Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself. 
Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it. 
In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight. 
You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone. 
Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here? 
Y/N: You better be sober, JJ. 
You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway. 
"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.
"Jay Jay?" she repeated. 
"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone. 
As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.
"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."
"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?" 
"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."
"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more." 
"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you." 
You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on. 
However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.
"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it. 
"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.
"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together. 
"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications. 
Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)
Crap, you thought. Where is JJ? 
You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside. 
Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time. 
Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door. 
"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you." 
"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded. 
"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?" 
"You know, I can just turn around right now-" 
"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can." 
"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way." 
The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night. 
You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!" 
"Jay Jay!" she babbled. 
"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed. 
"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said. 
"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?" 
He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place. 
"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started. 
"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you. 
"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now." 
"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N." 
"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"
"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."
Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again. 
"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?" 
"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.
"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.
"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight." 
"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.
You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!" 
With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car. 
On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you. 
"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said. 
"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint." 
He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"
"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."
"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.
"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings." 
"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"
"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.
"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"
"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that." 
"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"
You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life." 
He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard." 
"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him." 
Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"
"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.
"After...?"
"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."
"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?" 
"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."
"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty. 
"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?” 
"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized. 
"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"
You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you. 
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.
"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.
"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"
You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him." 
"Well, there you go. There's your answer." 
Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.
"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.
"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.
You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him. 
You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?" 
After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed. 
You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.
Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him. 
"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered. 
In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.
But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home. 
After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.
"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you. 
"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.
"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."
"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."
JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus." 
"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."
"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh. 
Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light. 
After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"
"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever." 
"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"
"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."
You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.
Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.
"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.
"Yes, somehow,” you mused. 
"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"
"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.
"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"
"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask." 
"Okay, how was your date?" he relented. 
"He's a psychologist." 
"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused. 
"He was very normal and nice," you added.
“I would hope so.”
“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”
“That’s great, how was the date itself?”
“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off. 
"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"
"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date." 
"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."
"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."
"So the date went bad?"
"No, it was really nice." 
JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?" 
"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.
"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?" 
"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started. 
"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you. 
"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled. 
"Then what?"
"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.
JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused. 
"JJ, please say something." 
"Was that all?"
"More or less."
He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”
“Distractions?”
“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’” 
“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…” 
“When I got pregnant…?”
“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”
“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.” 
“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.
“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.” 
JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”
You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”
“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”
“And are you better now?”
“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”
“What?”
“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.” 
When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.” 
There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination. 
Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.
“Yes, I love you, really.”
“I love you too, Maybank.” 
You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room. 
“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved. 
695 notes · View notes
natailiatulls07 · 3 months
Text
It's giving old money
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Oscar Piastri x British!Countess!reader
Summary - Oscar and his self conscious girlfriend, who is also a British countess, slowly soft launch their very private relationship however another certain Brit speeds up that process
Warning - swearing, Y/n is self conscious??
Faceclaim - Lila Moss
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yourusername
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Nights in Monte Carlo x
Liked by friendsusername and 124,674 others
Limited comments
friendsusername Hun we need to do this more often!
= yourusername Oh of course babe
username So jealous of her lifestyleee
username Imagine being her I wishhh
ilovey/nwithmyhearttt
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Y/n is at Wimbledon with her friend! I love the blue dress and the natural look <3
Liked by username and 58,739 others
username She's too gorgeousss omfggg
username Can we take a moment for the dress!
username Where is that dress frommm?? It's a fucking need!
= username I think it's Ralph Lauren
= username Thank yewww
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oscarpiastri
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A couple of days in London between gps
Liked by aussiegrit and 173,593 others
username Is this post sponsored by Ralph Lauren???
username Wait I recognize that dog, whats going on?!
username Oscar Pastry who is that?
landonorris Be safe bro emoji
= oscarpiastri Thanks mate lol
username It's giving old money
= username it's giving richhh
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yourusername posted a story
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username Y/n's new story of Archie, my heartttt
username Ikrr I want to kidnap it LMAO
username Wait Archie looks a lot like the dog in Oscar Piastri's recent instagram post, am I tripping??
username Gurl calm down, I doubt it. They are worlds away from eachother lol
username Yeah I agree, Y/n is too stuck up to make friends with anyone outside her countess/count social circle
yourusername
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Let's go racing x
Liked by mclaren and 166,289 others
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username This is new...
username My multiverse of madness!
mclaren Your welcome anytime <3
= yourusername I had the best time, thank you
username Okayyy so anyone wanna say something to me?? :|
username Look okay I'm sorry, maybe you did have an inkling
username Now that I look at it, the dog does very similarrr
username IKRR I think her and Oscar would be cute together lol
username They'd be the perfect old money couple nglll
oscarpiastri posted a story
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yourusername
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Thank you Melbourne, you're the best x
Liked by oscarpiastri and 178,484 others
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username Melbourne? thats random...
username Is this a soft launch????
username Oscar Piastri in the likes, Y/n in Melbourne...where Oscar also is, is Y/n and Oscar soft launching? :3
username Ummm Y/n??
oscarpiastri
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Days down in the water with my loved ones are my favourite
Liked by yourusername and 183,864 others
username Blonde hair + Melbourne + beach + Recent events + Y/n's like = Soft Lauch with Y/n L/n
= username Case closed! It has to be herrr
username I love summer break Oscar sm
logansargeant Always remember protectionnn
= oscarpiastri :|
username I need any more pleaseeee
username I mean they are making it very obviousss
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landonorris posted a story
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Text (White: Oscar Orange: Lando)
Dude what the fuck
What?!
What you've done?! You've just fucking outed mine and Y/n's relationship!!
Ohhh shit sorry man I didn't think you could see her face in the story I'll delete it now
No don't worry, we're trending on twitter anyways
Yeah sorry Osc, how's Y/n doing?
She's very anxious rn, you know how she is with the publics opinion of her
Oh no maybe distance her from social media
Yeah, I've taken her phone off of her
Ofc sorry again man
Nah dw it was bond to happen
oscarpiastri
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Yeah so me and this gorgeous women are dating. We want to keep it private and we hope you will respect our wishes <3
Tagged: yourusername
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kedsandtubesocks · 3 months
Text
your heart, a sonnet
Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy
word count: 5.3k
a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡
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You first met Joel at a bookstore.
The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.
“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.
A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.
“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.
Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.
Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.
With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.
Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.
Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.
His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.
“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.
“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.
“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.
His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.
Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.
“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.
“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.
The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.
When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.
“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.
“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.
You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.
“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.
You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.
You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.
But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.
Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.
“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.
“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.
“What did you say his job was?” She asks.
“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.
“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.
Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.
“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”
She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.
“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.
Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.
Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.
“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.
The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.
“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.
You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.
“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”
The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.
Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.
“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”
Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.
Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.
“So why’s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.
“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”
Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.
“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.
Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.
Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.
Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.
Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.
Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.
First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.
“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”
The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.
Then Joel walks out from the side.
Your heart instantly leaves your body.
For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.
But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.
Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.
Truth makes its way into your heart.
It’s Joel.
The famous mystery author is your Joel.
“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.
“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.
“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.
The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.
You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.
Why didn’t he tell you?
Did he not trust you?
Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.
“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath
Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.
He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.
“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”
His daughters. He named his characters after them.
Joel clears his throat and begins.
He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.
The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.
The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.
That one perks you up quickly.
In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.
“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”
Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.
Soon enough the last question arrives.
“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.
Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.
But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.
”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.
The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.
“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.
Too many emotions clash in you.
You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?
Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.
You quickly stomp those thoughts away.
The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.
“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.
You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.
She sympathetically nods.
“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.
“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.
The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.
Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?
However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.
“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.
“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”
The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.
Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.
“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.
“Maybe.” You mutter.
The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.
Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.
His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.
Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.
Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.
You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.
The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.
That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.
Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.
He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.
Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.
The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.
Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.
“Wait!”
You freeze.
Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.
“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.
But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.
The moment again shatters.
Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day
That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.
Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”
He is.
Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.
And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.
Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.
You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.
It’s Joel.
“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.
“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.
“Hi.” You reply back quietly.
“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.
You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.
Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.
You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.
“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.
He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.
At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.
You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.
The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.
Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.
The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.
You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.
“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”
You shake your head no.
“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.
Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.
“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.
Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.
“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.
You can’t help but laugh watery.
“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.
You can think of so many.
He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.
So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.
Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.
With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.
“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.
Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.
“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.
You squeeze his hands.
This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.
“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”
“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.
You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.
“Can I kiss ya baby?”
You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.
It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.
You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.
So you pull away and stand up.
Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.
“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.
Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.
It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.
Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.
“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.
You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.
“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.
“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.
“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.
Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.
“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”
A light bulb goes off inside your brain.
“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.
“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.
Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.
“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.
“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.
“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.
“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”
Now you’re the one laughing.
It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.
You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.
Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.
“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”
You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.
Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.
But Joel must sense that ache too.
“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.
That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.
The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.
You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.
Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.
And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.
A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.
You scramble fast to grab it.
A letter, he’s written you a letter.
“Honey,
I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”
You snort at that line but continue on.
“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”
You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.
“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”
You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.
You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.
He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.
The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.
He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.
Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.
And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.
So you return to reading his letter.
“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”
Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.
“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.
I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’
That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.
“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.
You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.
Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.
We said no more secrets yeah?
So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.
Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.
And I’m just gonna leave it at that.
Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.
P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that
-Joel”
You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.
Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.
You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.
You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.
Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.
You really might love this man.
And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.
You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.
You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.
After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?
You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.
549 notes · View notes
s-4pphics · 4 months
Text
click!: in frame. 2 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]
WORD COUNT: 11.5k
WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, daddy issues, SA/victim blaming :(, homophobia LOL, anger issues\violence, bad parenting, anxiety, joel standing on bidness, FLUFF!! :3, SMUT… MDNI, ellie bottoms YAAAS, virginity mentions, jealousy😂, dubcon (they’re high), more fingering, brief mentions of cunning lunning, squirting, mult. big Os, err dassit
A/N: YYYYAASSSSSSSS hi… bye 
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APRIL, 2014
Happy birthday, babe, you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear, arms wrapped around her neck from behind. Ceniyah’s giggly thank yous fill your ears and heart as you press smacking kisses on her cheek. 
I made you something… You reach behind and grab the rolled-up poster paper sticking out of your backpack, making sure Ceniyah doesn’t turn around. She seems giddy and your heart soars. You hope that all-nighter was worth it. Please, you pray to yourself, please love it. 
Close your eyes and gimme your hand, you say and she listens, palm open in front of your face. You place the scroll in her hand and she gasps. She whips around to face you, shock written all over her, and you giggle. She unrolls the painting and her head instantly falls back, tears jerking behind her glasses. 
Are you seriously crying right now! You pull her tight to your chest and she sobs into your neck, C’mon, baby, stop cryin’! S’okay. You coo and her arms tighten around your waist. 
D-D’you like it? Your face burns when you whisper. 
Are you fucking serious! She squeaks into your neck, It’s beautiful, baby, I love it. T-Thank you—
I love you so much, you mumble, and she says it back. 
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You haven’t slept at all. Your body’s going to collapse soon. You hope it’s not during this phone call. 
You ogle at the small card in your hand, pressing the digits into your device before hitting the call button. It rings twice before a bright voice answers. 
“Hello, this is Lisa Meyers speaking. How can I be of service?”
… Interesting intro. “Good morning, um, Professor Meyers?” 
“Yes, how can I help you?” 
“I… we spoke at the coffee shop yesterday. About the… assisting art professors alumni thing.” 
“Oh, of course! How are you, dear?”
“I’m good. Um… I was wondering if you’d have some time to speak with me about it... If that’s cool.”
You can hear her wide smile through the line, “More than cool! Would you be able to come into the office tomorrow?” 
An extra day in the city wouldn’t hurt (it would), “No problem. What time were you thinkin’?” 
“My mornings are always open! How does ten sound?” 
“Sounds like a plan. Uh, thank you,” you say with twitchy fingers. 
“Course, hun! I’ll put you in and I’ll see you tomorrow!” 
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You never expected to end up back here. 
The campus art studio looks exactly the same, only now the old portraits, sculptures, ceramics that were lined up on shelves of the display case are all replaced with new, nameless ones. You’re not used to seeing projects that you couldn’t attach a name to in the classroom. Your university years never feel that long ago, but the randomly placed structures are proof of your long-term absence. 
Time is an illusion… Or you’re getting old as fuck and about to be lowered into the ground. Freshmen make you sick(affectionately). 
Professor Meyers explained the position well enough for you to manage on your own. The work you’re doing isn’t difficult: oversee, assist in grading, oversee some more, oversee, and guide. You’re practically getting a check for being the already observant individual that you are. It’s a steal! 
The position only lasts around a month, but Professor Meyers was convinced that it would only take someone as talented as you (her words… although you agree) a week to get on her toes. You vowed to bring your sketchbook every day from here on out, both to yourself and to her, in case you get the inkling of inspiration that you desperately need. 
The job’s a small win. That’s all you could ask for right now. 
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Fuck all that shit you said at the start of the week. TAing fucking sucks. And you still haven’t had any inspiration despite all the efforts from the students! Whenever you pick up a utensil, you stab through your paper. You’ve officially lost your touch. You’re a regular bitch with no talent! What the fuck is going on! 
You’ve had numerous breakdowns in bathroom stalls since Monday, and you’re bound to have another one in the next fifteen seconds. Why the fuck did so many students leave their filled water cups on the fucking tables. Guess who has to clean all that shit up! You! Fuck freshman(unaffectionately). 
You’re so happy the halls are empty in between rotations. No one needs to watch you sobbingly wipe down tables splattered with paint. 
After Professor Ronson’s room is tidy, you start prepping the board for the next rotation of students. They’re learning about anatomy today; There’s bound to be at least three students that scribble tiny dicks in the corner of their starter pages. You hate it here. 
You open the drawer to retrieve all the sharpeners, only to find the container completely empty. You’re sick of the animators not putting shit back. You begrudgingly make your way back down the hall and into Professor Lacey’s room… You should’ve never left.
Your lungs constrict with your gasp and you almost drop your keys. 
A just as shocked Ellie gawks back at you, laminated name tag with YEARBOOK dangling from the camera strap around her neck. 
What the fuck.
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Ellie’s either hallucinating or dead. Yeah… She has to be dead. The haunting of your email was too much and she died and now she’s seeing shit—
An angel disguised as you is staring back at her, fist clenched under the sleeves of your sweater, brown eyes just as stunned as hers. Ellie barely has time to gather words before the chains hooked onto the pockets of your jeans jingle as you step out of the room and scurry down the hallway. Ellie’s feet are flying before she can even register their movements, hot on your trail as her camera bounces on her chest. 
She manages to get close enough to grab your bicep, ignoring the stuttering in her heart when she sees the former light in your eyes replaced with something darker. The flourishing storm in your pupils is uncontrollable. 
Ellie drops your arm when she realizes you won’t run, “W-What are you doing here?” 
Your gaze is locked onto the tile squares on the ground. “I-I’m, uh… just enjoyin’ the weather— “
Ellie’s brows pull downward, eyes flicking towards the badge wrapped around your neck. Do you work here? “We’re indoors.” She mumbles dryly. 
“Nothin’ like… the spring rain hittin’ the windows, am I right?“ You huff with a nervous smile, eyes flitting around the hallway as you search for an escape. Ellie’s not having that. 
“We needa talk.” 
You sigh, “I can’t. I’m working.” 
“So am I. Take your break,” Ellie grabs your wrist and drags you back down the hallway, leading you to the bathroom and pushing you into a stall, locking the door behind her. 
Her voice is quiet when she presses, “The fuck are you doing here?” 
Ellie expects you to snap, to push the same questioning back onto her, but you don’t. Your mouth gapes like a fish as you stumble over words. Ellie’s eyes soften when she sees a shaky hand come up to pin a loc behind your ear. You’re shaken up and she instantly notices something off. Your demeanor has shifted immensely since she last seen you and it’s making Ellie’s stomach twist with discomfort. She's never seen you this stunted. 
“What.” Ellie asks when you mumble to the floor. 
“I’m sorry about the email,” You sound winded, “I thought… I dunno. I’m sorry about everythin’.” Your lip starts to quiver as you ramble, “I would’ve never come if I knew, I’m sorry— “ 
… What the hell are you talking about? And why are you crying? 
You sniffle and wipe your tears with your sleeves and Ellie’s fingers itch to comfort, to dry your face herself, but she doesn’t. She watches you weep into your palms for what feels like hours, the air of the restroom suffocatingly tight. 
“I didn’t mean to ruin anything you h — had going on, okay? I’m sorry… I’ll leave right now! You’ll never have to see me again— “
Your sobs are stressing her, “G-Gimme your phone.” Ellie blurts. 
You're already digging in your pocket for your device to unlock it, “W-Why— “
Ellie snatched it from your hand, heart pulling when she sees a photo of younger you being carried by a woman shoved in your case. The same face that was littered all over your apartment, “You wanted to talk so bad, right?” Ellie presses her new number into the pad and calls herself, “You have my number. My…” 
When she looks up, her words get swallowed up; Your eyes still manage to glow under the… horrific bathroom lighting, glittering like stars in the late night. She clears her throat to catch herself, “My shift ends at four. Call me any time after that.” 
Ellie hurries to unlock the stall before leaving you in the bathroom, heart in her throat as she heaves all the way down the hallway to the lounge, shaking her hands to get the jitters out. 
She knew she should’ve never accepted a call from the alumnus association. Fuck the yearbook. 
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You clock out with a heavy, anxious heart. 
Three students came up to you and asked for advice on their starter shapes. They were a bit upset when their circles didn’t come out perfect, and you almost cried. It was too sweet. Your bag bounces off your back as you descend the staircase to exit the building. The droplets hit your hood with fever as you skip to your car. You jump into the driver’s seat to turn the heat on, teeth chattering from the evening breeze. 
You check the time on your dash and… it’s way past four. You hope Ellie’s willing to meet. You dial the most recent number and tremble as the phone rings. She answers after the second tone. 
“Hello?” 
She sounds so relaxed, and your shoulders unlock, “… Hi. It’s… me?” 
A lengthy pause, “… Me who?” 
You hide a snort, “Um… ex-roomie?” She chuckles lightly. “Hi.”
“… Hi.” You whisper, “Did you, um… still wanna talk to me?” You think you hear the click of a lighter. 
“Mhm. I’ll send you where I stay at.” 
“Okay… I’ll see you soon?” 
“Yup.” And with that, the line goes dead. Ellie’s location delivers not even a minute later. Her hotel isn’t far from here. . . and fuck, it looks like wealth. Your nerves are nowhere near settled after your last attempt at reconciliation, and paranoia is itching beneath your skin. 
You open your GPS and blast your screamo playlist, hollering your way down the street with your windows down, rain be damned. 
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You’re burning holes through Ellie’s hotel room door. 
You haven’t knocked, you haven’t rang. . . you're not even sure if your text of arrival went through. You just stare at the peephole with a clenched jaw. This big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos is doing an excellent job as a stress ball. It’s bound to pop from your grip soon.
Your bladder almost lets loose when the door gets pulled open, nostrils instantly hit with wafts of that forbidden flower. You’re pulled through the small crack by a strong grip before the door is shut and locked behind you. 
Ellie faces you, bare arms on display, and leans back against the door… in those fucking grey sweats. After all this time, they still cause damage to your soul, “Sorry. I don’t wanna get kicked out.” 
“It’s… you’re good.” You point behind her, trying not to gawk at her tattoo, “How’d you know— “
“You breathe loud.” She says simply, tone hushed and raspy. She nods behind you, “Sit down.” 
She follows you to the lounge chairs that face each other. You sit, still tense, suddenly back in therapy, “I-I brought you somethin’.” You push the crumpled bag of chips towards her as she relights her joint. 
Her pink, doe-eyes flit between yours and the bag before she mumbles, “Thank you.” 
“No problem…” You awkwardly set them on the windowsill, swallowing your guilt and deciding to take initiative, “I… I know you have a lot of things going on and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time… I’m just…” 
The loud splattering of raindrops is nerve-wracking, “I wasn’t… I didn’t treat you well. College was a very hard time for me and I didn’t really know how to deal with it without being a bitch—” 
Carbon leaves her nose, “Is that your excuse?”
“N-No, no! I’m not… I’m not tryna avoid blame. I was terrible and you — no one deserved what I put them through… I-I’m really sorry, Ellie… From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”
Ellie’s silent. You have no idea what she’s thinking; She could be plotting to get you kicked out of her room right now and you wouldn’t know. Her stare isn’t angry, it isn’t anything… she just watches you. Every squeeze of your hands, bounce of your knee, every tic photographed in her memory. Just like before. 
“Why're you back on campus?” 
You exhale the breath you’d been holding, “Um… I gotta, like, TA job, I guess. With the art profs.”  
“Still doing art, then, I guess.”
You stare down at your lap, “Yeah. Trying to.” You croak. 
“Trying?” She asks, brows furrowed. Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. “I, err, hadn’t made anything in a while so… yeah. I thought it’d get me back into it.” 
“Are you?” 
“Hm?”
“Are you back into it?” 
“I don’t know yet.” 
“Why were you so upset when I moved out?” Ellie’s tone shifts into something much more delicate, ready to crack and bleed open at any given moment. You can’t tell her, your brain bellows over the pleads from your heart. You can’t tell her how much you missed her!
Your jaw slacks dumbly as you search for a believable explanation, mind blanking under her scrutinizing stare. 
“I was drunk. I-I don’t remember…” 
“You were drunk and don’t remember.” You cringe at her tone. 
“Ellie… I don’t wanna— “
“Don’t wanna what? Actually be fucking honest?” Your babbles are silenced as she rants. “You reached out to me and you can’t even answer one question honestly. Why’d you even come?” She seems so disappointed in your response, but what can you do? Tell her how every part of your body yearns to be next to her? How you almost collapse when you saw her for the first time in what felt like an eternity? How manipulative would that be after everything you’ve done?
Ellie’s index finger jumps on the armrest as silence takes over once more. She’s deep in thought, it seems, teeth nipping at the skin of her lip. 
“Ellie— “
“When I moved out…” She repeats sternly, “you told me you didn’t want me to go. Why did you say that?” 
It’s on the tip of your tongue: because I’m weak and I like you! I’m sorry I didn’t fight! I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry! 
“B-Because I didn’t want you to go…” You whisper between sniffles, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 
“Why's that?” 
“I… really liked having you around…” You chose your words very carefully, but they’re not a lie. “You’re… you’re really nice.” 
That seems to satisfy her a little, “I’m really nice?” Ellie’s brow quirks, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. 
“And funny.” You sob, “Like, I laughed a lot.” 
“You’re funny, too,” Ellie says awkwardly while scratching her ear. Your heart pulses. 
Her eyes search yours, “I didn’t know how I would react when you got here. The thought of seeing you really… fucking freaked me out.” She scoffs to herself, and your shoulders begin to droop. “But… um...” She pauses and your pulse pounds in your neck. Tears brim in your ducts. This is when she tells you to leave. To fuck off. To drop dead, for fucks sake—
“I’m glad you reached out.” 
You gawk in disbelief before your bottom lip trembles, “Really?” You ask meekly. She simply nods. 
“Me, too.” You’re really trying not to cry right now, but the softness in her gaze isn’t helping. She’s too sweet. You change the topic before you say something you’ll regret. You point to the bag of chips, “I really hope you like that flavor. I just grabbed it because I was overthinking.” 
“I don’t know why you bought those. I still owe you a bag from what I remember,” She grabs them, squeezing the end until the other side pops open. She grabs four ships and crunches them all at once before extending the bag to you. You follow her lead and munch to your heart's content. 
“I was never mad at you, y’know.” Ellie sets the bag down and reignites her roach. “I wasn’t, uh, innocent, either. We both fucked up,” She puffs and hands it to you. You've never smoked bud before, only stole a couple of Abby’s edibles a while back. She vowed never to smoke with you since you’re a tweaker. 
You accept the charred-to-hell baby jay and stare at it. You shrug, “Wasn’t worse than me. How do I do this without burning my finger off?” 
“Err… just breathe in and hold it.” She instructs. “Have you never gotten high?” 
“I have. I don't— “
“Oh, yeaaah. Non-smoker. Sorry.” 
“It’s fine,” you mumble before bringing the remnants up to your lips and sucking in. Nothing happens. Ellie snickers, “Not like that. It’s not a fucking lollipop. Just, like, fill your cheeks up and hold it.�� 
… Are you an idiot? “I don’t know what that means.” Ellie cackles like a witch at your lost expression, nearly falling over in her chair. Your cheeks burn and you try again, cheeks expanding to fill in the smoke. The second you inhale, you start choking, eyes bulging out of your skull from the burn in your chest. 
Ellie finds your near-death experience fucking hysterical as she hollers from her seat. Tears stream down your face and the veins in your neck are bulging as you gasp for air. You’re never doing this shit again. Your lungs finally decide to spare you when Ellie passes you water from her dresser. You gulp that shit down like no tomorrow as Ellie’s giggles dwindle. 
“What the,” cough, “fuck— “
“Fucking baby lungs,” Ellie mumbles with a grin. “You’ll be fine after a couple tries.” 
You chug more water, “Girl… fuck you.” You gasp. Ellie’s grin turns cocky when her head tilts. 
“Fuck me?” Her voice lowers and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your heart stops in your chest and your gaze falls to the floor as your tummy swirls in delight, cheeks fiery. You stand and Ellie sits up at your sudden alertness. 
“Um… Like I said, thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I really appreciate it.” Ellie stands to grab your arm when your feet slowly start backing towards the door. 
Her smile drops, “I-I’m sorry. I was just kidding—” 
“No, it’s fine! It’s not you! I just, uh… y’know what I mean?” 
“… No.” She mumbles, “You don’t… have to go yet. You just got here.” She chuckles weakly. 
“I just… don’t wanna… pry.” You whisper like it’s shameful. Ellie’s head shakes in denial, “You’re not! I’m… inviting you.” 
Your eyes beg her to understand where you’re coming from. It’s not like you don’t want to, but the two of you just got back cool three seconds ago. The last thing you want to do is force yourself back into her life. Your relationship needs time to marinate and heal before anything else happens… if she allows it. 
“I… I still miss Pickle?” You suggest with bright eyes, and Ellie’s soften despite her confusion. “Would it be okay if I see her?” You ask quietly. 
Her mouth turns upwards, “How long are you in town?” 
“I don’t know… These hotel bills are runnin’ my credit in the fucking mud.” You sigh. 
“She’s with my dad right now. Come this weekend. I’m outta here on Friday, anyways.” She suggests, cheeks glowing in the dimming room. You hope Ellie doesn’t notice your dejection at the mention of her father… It still stings. Her eyes are so hopeful, meadows flurrying with excitement… and you can’t say no. 
“…Okay.” 
“Yeah?” She confirms, smile widening. You nod. “She misses you like crazy.” Ellie notes and tears get to cooking. You think about Pickle every day. Little munchkin. 
“I miss her, too.” You sniffle. The hand that rests on your bicep slowly slides down your sleeve, closing around your wrist. Not strong, but her hold is steady. Ellie whispers your name. 
“Hm?” 
“I’m glad we’re… okay.” Your heart soars with adoration. Her eyes explore your face in admiration, and your body glows. 
“Me, too. Thank you.” Ellie’s gentle gaze drops to your lips and you stiffen. Your hands clench when she moves an inch closer. It kills you to move away, and an inkling of hurt overcasts in her forest. She lets you go and backs away, “Sorry— “
Your head shakes desperately, “S’okay, I just think we should… move… slower?” You never fail to sound like an alien who just arrived on Earth, but Ellie seems to get it. 
“Yeah, I… yeah.” Ellie stares at her sock-covered feet, red dusting her cheeks. You try to hide a smile while she walks you towards her door. She opens it for you, propping up against it. 
“See you Friday?” You throw over your shoulder and Ellie grins. “See you Friday.” She parrots. You can’t stop cheesing even after she closes the door. You make your way back into your driver’s seat, heart bleeding with relief. 
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MAY, 2014
Her record is clean! I would’ve never expected this from such a great kid, your professor says to your father, But violence, especially to this extreme, is completely unacceptable—
What about what he did to me! You shout, and your father glares at your tone, He put his hands on me first! H-He—
Your body shudders in disgust at the recall of your classmate touching you the way he did. You were on your way to class when hands enclosed around your chest in a tight squeeze, all oxygen leaving your body. It was abrasive and made your skin crawl, and you swung. Your arms moved on their own until you were on top of him, his nose gushing blood while his friends attempted to pry you off. 
There was laughter when he groped you. So many people — students that you see every day — all watched it, and no one came to your defense. 
Your principal sighs with his palms up, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what happened—
No, you’re not! I already told you what happened and you’re tryna make it seem like I’m lying! You stand and grab your bag off the floor, stomping towards the door to the office, Y’all can choke—
Your dad calls out for you, and your fingers twitch at his tone, but you keep walking, pushing past the double-doors of the school and towards the bike rack. Tears flood your eyes when the double doors slam shut, your father berating you about making a scene in public. You unlock your ride, blocking out his rampage that draws the security guard’s attention. 
He put his hands on me, dad! You shriek as loud as you can between your cries, He put his hands on me! Why’re you yellin’ at me?
I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling in general! You scoff and swing your leg over your bike, strapping your helmet on, I’m tryna understand what happened! You broke his goddamn nose! They’re boutta suspend you! 
Imma be at Maya’s, you say, monotone. I’ll see you later. 
Amaya isn’t even home. Your dad’s hollering his lungs out as you ride down the sidewalk, but you block it all out until the wind fills your ears like a monsoon. You’re not sure where you’re going, but it’s somewhere. 
Hopefully somewhere you can cry to yourself without disturbance. 
-
-
-
It’s your first day back at school since being suspended. Fuck everybody… except Amaya and Ceniyah. You probably would’ve switched schools if it wasn’t for them. You can’t wait to see them during lunch and tell them how fucked up it’s been staying at home. 
Today has been weird as fuck, to say the least. Friends that you’ve grown used to talking to in the hallways have either disappeared or ignored you. It’s quiet around you, now, and you’re on edge. What the fuck is going on?
Walking into the cafeteria is frightening. It’s always loud, rowdy, hectic, but the minute you step foot inside, everything seems to stop. You grip your tray so tight; you think it’s about to snap, frantically searching for your girlfriend. 
But your two favorite people are nowhere to be seen. You wander and come up empty-handed. Where the fuck are they—
Your thoughts are cut when a shoulder shoves right into yours. You throw your tray onto the nearest table. Laughter surrounds you before a snarky voice shriek in your ears.
Watch where the fuck you’re going, 
No, you watch where the fuck you’re going. Dumb ass bitch, You spit. You're about to get suspended for knocking this broad out. Who even is this? 
Coming from the slut who cheated on her girlfriend! Are you sure you’re a lesbian? Or are you going back to dick? 
The entire room seems to collapse from top to bottom, crushing you beneath clutter in attempts to suffocate. You freeze when everyone turns to stare at the scene, some standing to surround you, hoping to see a fight. You release a shuddering breath as your fist clench. 
… Cheated on your girlfriend? You love your girlfriend. You’re in love with your girlfriend, and she’s in love with you! What the fuck is this bitch talking about. 
I think she’s going back to dick! One of them laughs, and the rest follow, and the entire room glows red. 
Your knuckles are drenched in the color when your dad comes to pick you up. 
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PRESENT
Maybe being a TA is helping. You’ve finally pulled your sketchbook out of your work bag. 
The point of your fine liner hovers over a blank page of your sketchbook. You can’t stop thinking about Ellie, and you don’t have many distractions. 
It’s been so long since you’ve created anything, and frankly, your ass is clenched with anxiety. Never in your life would you think that creating art would wrack your nerves in such a way, but your insecurities are working hard. Probably the hardest they ever have. Once upon a time, your sketchbook was your safe haven, and now the feeling of blank pages feels like needles. 
What if you’ve… lost your talent? You can see everything you want to make clearly in your head but your pen isn’t moving. The attempts at reigniting your passion would be pointless if you can no longer fucking draw. Your fingers are itching. 
Maybe you should try that corny shit from the movies where they close their eyes and move their utensils on pure muscle memory… Maybe you should do fucking shrooms! Visuals always peak on psyches, according to the experts. At this point, why the fuck not— 
“Son of a fucking — this is fucking stupid, bitch, jus’ fuckin’ draw,” you mutter to yourself in agitation. Just fucking draw! You do this! You do this, you do this!
Minutes pass and your paper is mussed with smudged, small ink marks from constantly moving your pen around, trying to find the right angle. Another piece of paper gone to waste. You fucking suck. You slam your pen down on the table. 
You stand and start to pace, “Positive affirmations only,” You remind yourself aloud, “You got this shit, like, what the fuck. Everything’s gonna come back to you. You’re in a funk and tha’sit. It’ll pass, it’ll pass— “
Whoever your hotel neighbor is… Praying for their sleep schedule. 
It’s going to be a long night. 
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“Hello?”
“Hi, kiddo. Sorry I missed your call. Your pet knocked out on my hand.” 
Ellie giggles, “It’s cool. How ya been?”
“Fine… She’s a rascal, ain’t she? I found her head first in one of my flower pots. Her tiny legs were wiggling tryna get herself out,” His chuckles are like warm hugs, “How’s work?”
Ellie’s cackles calm, “Also fine… Err…Um… speaking of Pickle…” 
Her dad hums, and Ellie sighs, “Remember when I told you about how I found her?” 
“Yeah… You and that girl found the poor thing freezing to death outside… Why?”
“… Would you believe me if I said we somehow reunited by the grace of God and she’s coming back with me tomorrow?” Ellie squeaks, and her confidence drops when he exhales. It sounds heavy. 
“Um… for what?” 
“To see Pickle…”
“…Alright.”
“What’re you thinkin’,” She nips at her nails. 
“Nothin’…” 
“Dad…” 
“I dunno what you want me to say, darlin’… Everything you’ve told me about her so far wasn’t… great to hear.” 
Ellie rolls onto her back, “Yeah… I dunno. Something’s different about her now.” 
“How so?” 
She can’t tell him how badly your shielded eyes have taken a toll on her. How desperately she wants them to revert to the shining rivers they used to be. How badly her chest ached when you left her room last night, “I dunno. It just is…” She mutters weakly. Another heavy sigh. 
“I mean… You’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do anymore.” 
“Don’t be like that, please.” 
“Not being like anything. I can only accept.” 
Ellie’s hand drags down her face in exasperation. The rants she relinquished onto her dad about you are making her nauseas. 
“Just… be nice to her, please.” He hums begrudgingly. 
“Dad, I’m serious. I feel like we… could be friends.” 
“Friends… Alright.” He sounds skeptical, but he isn’t combative. She hopes he’ll keep it together when he sees you, “How should I plan for this friend when she gets here?”
Ellie smiles sadly, “Make eggplant parmesan…”
Her dad snorts, “… Since when do you like eggplant?” 
Ellie grins, “I don’t.” 
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Why can’t black roses be real? 
Ellie doesn’t seem like a flower girl, but she has a gigantic leaf imprinted on her arm for the rest of her life; She must appreciate the autotroph kingdom. Your mother always told you how fucked it is to enter people’s homes empty handed. Walmart usually pulls through with the awkward housewarming gifts, but they’re slacking in their garden selection today. Fuck your life. 
You’re forced to settle on peonies… They’re pretty and all, but you’d prefer alliums for her. Maybe even a carnation. Plus, Amaya always told you to never buy flowers that sound like penis. 
Amaya… Are you really about to break down in the frozen food section? Maybe. It’s time to go. You're shocked to find out you have more than ten dollars on your card. Fuck hotels, from the depths of your soul. 
You set your purchase in the passenger’s side and pull up Ellie’s pinged location. She left way earlier than you. You would’ve carpooled, but you couldn’t miss these hours for this paycheck. How are you a struggling student and not even in school? 
The drive is going to be long. 
At least you have time to scream out your frustrations. 
“Hey, Siri.” 
… UH HUH?
“Play This Cold Black by Slipknot.” 
PLAYING THIS COLD BLACK BY SLIPKNOT. 
Your head thrashes as you back out of your parking spot. 
“WELCOME HOOO— “
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The ride wasn’t long enough, actually. Ellie’s dad’s house is right there. Like… right fucking there, and your voice is almost gone. Clouds are beginning to roll in over the neighborhood. The universe is fucking with you. Great. 
You dump the last bits of water into the thirty-dollar, peony-stuffed vase before exiting your car, backpack strapped over your shoulder. You climb the brick staircase with a pounding heart. 
“Okay,” You croak, “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. I heard my — our cat was with you—“ You rehearse and cringe. Why are you pressing him about a cat in his domain? 
“Fuck, okay, wait,” You try again, “Hi, Mr. Miller, I’m Ellie’s, uh, friend. We were roommates some time ago— “ 
Some time ago? Who the fuck are you? Shakespeare? Emily fucking Brontë? Get a fucking grip. 
You almost drop the fucking vase when the door opens. Your coughs are uncontrollable when you see Ellie, eyes flicking between you and the ring light camera. Why the fuck does she look so good? Cartier watch, black button up and slacks, hair… neat. She’s about to trigger your asthma! 
“Uh… you okay?” She questions flatly. You’re still choking on your own esophagus, but you send her two thumbs up anyway. You’re great! Terrific! Immediately scared shitless when a… big ass man holding a black furball creeps up behind her. He’s not as dolled-up as Ellie and it makes you less insecure. Why the fuck do you have this hoodie on? You should’ve at least worn some trousers! 
“Nice to meet you.” His voice sounds like grovel. Gravel? You can’t fucking think right now! He adjusts Pickle in his grasp so he can extend a polite hand out to you, “I’m Joel. I’m Ellie’s father,” He sounds courteous, but there’s something simmering beneath his pupils as he stares at you. 
His grip is strong when you accept it. You’re going to vomit, “I-I’m — I mean, hi, I’m, uh… Me’n Ellie used to live together—“ You sound like a frog who just learned how to speak. 
“I’ve been told.” He hums.
Meow!
You almost start bawling at your baby’s cry. She's so big now and her coat is so shiny! She’s eating well. Ellie accepts the flowers with dusted cheeks before stepping aside and allowing you entry. You’re instantly hit with the smell of garlic… Can the whole bloodline throw down in the kitchen? 
“Nice home!” You crack and cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. They both say thanks in unison, but her father’s is gruff while Ellie’s is delicate like petals. She can’t stop staring down at the flowers. Joel finally sets Pickle down so he can head back into the kitchen, and she follows him without hesitation. 
She doesn’t remember you. Your heart shatters. 
“Thank you for the flowers,” You hear Ellie say from beside you. You swallow the lump forming in your throat with a smile. “No problem… You look, um, great.” And you smell like heaven. Like clouds before the rain. 
Her face gets redder and she grins behind petals, “Thank you. I got called in today. For… editing and whatnot.”  
You snicker, “Whatnot?” 
“Shut up. C’mon.” You follow her into the kitchen where she sets the vase in the middle of the dining table before waddling towards her dad, who stands over the stove. You stand back and watch as she playfully punches his upper arm while he stirs the simmering pot, cracking jokes amongst themselves while Pickle paws at Ellie’s calf. Your doting smile vanishes at their laughter; What a little happy family. Are you breathing? 
You turn to face the living room and breathe in as deep as you can, eyes glued to their maroon couch. You crack your knuckles and release the wind in your lungs before repeating. 
“You’re okay, it’s okay. You knew what it was before you came,” you whisper to yourself. Ellie mentioned how close her and her dad were way before you got here, so why is the pain in your chest so sharp? 
A hand comes down on your shoulder and you jump, “Sor — fuck, sorry — “
“Are you okay?” Ellie asks, concerned. 
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Jus’ looking around,” You laugh shakily and note the large paper crane on the TV stand. You point at it, “That’s so cool! Did you make that? I love origami.” 
“No, my dad did— “
Fuck, “Oh— “
“Yeah, um— “
“D-Do you have a restroom?” 
She observes with worry, “… Yeah, right down that hall, to the left— “
“Thank you, BRB,” You’re practically running to the fucking bathroom. The door closes and locks and you pace. They have a nice shower curtain: black and white stripes. You count them all from top to bottom. 
“Your dad’s dead, fucking relax, it’s been like that, it’s been like that,” You exhale shakily, tremors building in your hands, “You’re fine, you’re fine, calm the fuck down.” You unzip your hoodie and ball it up before shoving your face in it. Your screams into it are muffled. 
You come up for air and stare into the mirror, “You’re fucking fine. The food smells good as fuck and you’re gonna eat and you’re fine.” You open the door and… kitty’s staring at you. She’s sitting pretty and inspecting your disheveled appearance. 
“Hi, baby. Remember me?” You squat and stick your hand out to her. She sniffs curiously before nipping at your pinky. “Ow,” you coo with a smile. 
“She remembers you.” 
Ellie’s leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest. You need her to stomp the fuck out of you with affection; She looks so fucking good, fuck—
“I hope,” you squeak and cough. It scares the shit out of Pickle and she runs. 
Ellie’s gaze lingers on your bare arms. “Can we talk for a sec?”
“Yup.” Sound casual, you think. You sprinkle a shrug in there. She nods before heading down the hall and entering the last door. You can’t hide your shocked expression at the scenery. 
Every inch of the room is covered in posters, most of them about galaxies and all their intricacies. There’s a red racecar bed covered in Regular Show sheets and pillowcases and a bunch of stuffed animals, dresser covered with discarded sticker papers and seemingly empty polaroid cameras. There are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling before coming down and around the bed frame, across the closet, and finally slung over her dresser. There’s little action figures and trinkets everywhere. 
The door closes behind you, “… Is this your room?” 
Ellie snorts, “It was. Not anymore.” 
You laugh, “I’m fuckin’ with it. That bed is crazy, though.” Ellie joins in, scratching at her ear. She takes a few steps until she’s in front of you, still at a distance. Thank God; Any closer and your celibacy goes down the drain. 
“Sorry I only brought flowers. I would’ve brought fucking… cake or something if I knew y’all were gonna cook.” Ellie waves you off. 
“The flowers were pretty. Thank you.” 
Your entire face is on fire, “Y’know what I mean…” You cough. 
“Um… I just wanted to talk to you about something. About my dad.” 
There’s a hole in your chest that’s expanding. She takes your silence as attentive, “He can be really overprotective… like, he’s kinda stubborn.”
“Oh… I see where you get it from,” You laugh weakly, clearing your throat when Ellie doesn’t. “Sorry.” You mumble. Ellie looks down at her feet, “Does he not… like me?” You ask quietly, embarrassed out of your fucking mind. 
“It’s not that, he’s just… I told him a little of what happened between us. Not everything, just some of it!” 
“The… bad part, I’m assuming?” Her silence is enough confirmation. 
Ellie looks like Pickle when she’s guilty. You remember when she hopped onto the counter and knocked over your water cup, eyes large and pleading for forgiveness over the mess she caused. 
“M’not mad,” You mumble, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.” Probably is used very strongly. 
“I’m sorr— “
“It’s okay— “
A knock comes from the other side of the door. 
“Come eat, you two!” 
“Coming!” Ellie yells back before rubbing her hands together. “I’m really— “ 
“Ellie, it’s fine,” You reassure her with a light slap on her bicep… It’s quite hard. “C’mon, uh… I’m hungry?” You brush past her and head towards the door, holding it open for her. “After you?”
Ellie reminds you of a strawberry milk squishmallow when she eases past you, trying to hide her smile and pink cheeks. Your cheeks puff as you release the air in your lungs, shutting her door behind you. 
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This is the best eggplant parmesan you’ve ever tasted in your goddamn life. Too bad you can’t enjoy it due to Ellie’s hardcore mobster dad sending you deadly glares from across the table. He hasn’t said a word this entire meal, and you’re not anticipating the minute he does. He’s going to blow a gasket. 
“D’you like it?” Ellie says lowly from beside you. You nod your head with two thumbs up. You can’t hide your smile when you notice all the gooey cheese and noodles eaten off the pieces of eggplant. 
“It’s delicious. Thanks Mr. Miller.” 
“Don’t mention it.” He sounds like he means it. Your heart drops and Ellie scowls at him. Your fingers clench around your fork and you scarf down what you can. It’s so good and you’re so scared and you want this meal to be over. 
You're the last to clean your plate so you stand in a rush, gathering all of the plates and spoons off the table before scurrying to the sink. 
Ellie pads close behind you, “Oh, you don’t have to— “
You cut Ellie off with a nervous laugh, “The least I could do.” The dishes clatter and you grab a sudsy sponge. You waste no time, scrubbing the living hell out of these dishes. 
“Go sit down, Ellie.” 
The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his stern tone, “Wha— “
He slices through her refute, and still manages to sound calm, “Go.” 
You continue to scrub, sighing at Ellie's descending stomps. Joel creeps into the open space in front of the sink, grabbing a dish and another sponge. 
“Ellie told me you’re an artist.” He mutters over the running water.
“Yeah. Sorta.” You reply as calmly as you can. 
“What are your intentions with my daughter?” He gets right to it, it seems. You scrub harder. 
“Just… tryna make things right between us.” 
“Why's that?” 
Word vomit. You can’t help yourself. You’re so fucking nervous. “I-I fuc — sorry — I screwed over someone that was… really great. Your daughter’s a sweetheart and I feel awful with how things left off.” You stumble with a heated face. You catch the arch in his eyebrow and back pedal, “Not like we were — we weren’t dating or anything! Like, not like that! We just — “
“I was a student once upon a time. I know how these things go.” He snickers humorlessly. Your shoulders relax a smidge before he asks, “Why now?” 
“Hm?” 
“Why’d you wait so long to talk to her? The two of you graduated forever ago.” His tone is much calmer than it was seconds ago, but anxiety surges in your gut at his questioning. 
“I didn’t wanna reach out without being in the right headspace. I had… a lot going on and I had to handle it. Therapy’s hard as fu — heck,” You sigh, “I still don’t think I’m doin’ a good job, but… I dunno, it earned me a Michelin star eggplant parm. Must be doing something right.” 
You don’t expect Joel to laugh, but he does. It’s hearty and deep. Very dad-esque. Your heart crushes to dust all over again. 
“Look, kid,” Joel sets the clean plate in the rack before grabbing another, “I wasn’t gonna say much, but Ellie seems to like you… a lot. More than most people.” Your heart flurries back into shape at his observation. You want to ask what a lot means exactly, but he continues. 
“She’s… she gets very attached to people. I know it’s hard to believe but she’s very… sensitive,” His voice is low, but he’s not bullshitting in the slightest. The protective aura has returned and it’s radiating back onto you, pushing you back. Keeping you at a distance from him. From Ellie, “I’m never gonna shit on anyone’s journey, but frankly… if you’re not here to stay, I’d suggest leaving her alone now.”
This is definitely a threat. But you don’t feel threatened. You feel… sad. Joel is doing what any great dad would when faced with an outsider: armoring his cubs by any means. Something you’ve never experienced. If meeting Joel has shown you anything, it’s been what you’ve missed out on your entire life. Little does he know the last thing you want to do is separate from Ellie a second time. Another breakdown is bound to crash into you very soon. You forgot where the bathroom was. 
You’re not going anywhere. Your heart won’t allow it. “I’m— “
You’re interrupted by a loud rumble, instantly followed by the heavy droplets of pouring rain. It sounds like pebbles are being thrown at all windows of their home; Is it hailing? 
“Holy shit,” Ellie calls from the living room window, “Was it supposed to storm tonight?” 
“Yeah, it was on the news,” Joel confirms. Ellie rushes over and points her eyes to you. 
“You’re not driving in that.” She breathes out. Your heart fist pumps, but you maintain nonchalance. 
You shrug awkwardly, “I don’t wanna pry— “ 
“Nah, she’s right. We have a guest room.” Joel sighs, “Ellie, show her where it is. I’ll finish up in here.” 
Ellie’s hand closes around your wrist before guiding you down the hall. The bathroom’s right across from the guest room. On the left side, you note. 
“Fuck a guest room. You’re staying with me.” She mumbles and opens the cupboard. She grabs you some sleep shorts and presumably her father’s sweatshirts. You try to convince yourself that the strong pounds in your chest are from fear of the storm, and not at all from a lesbian slumber party. 
… Fuck. 
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The storm is roaring outside. And Ellie’s chiefing in neon astronaut jammies. This feels like a fever dream. 
“They glow in the dark.” Ellie hums around a cloud of smoke from where she sits across from you on the bed. You pause your gawking, “Huh?”
“My pjs glow in the dark. Wanna see?” Her eyes sparkle and your heart sprouts legs and sprints around in your ribcage. 
“Fuck yeah.” You gasp. Ellie’s teeth shine before she puts her joint between her lips and leans across her bed to shut her lamp off. Every fiber of your being tries to not lock onto the smidge of skin that appears from under her sweatshirt when she stretches. The room goes dark around the neon pink and green outlines of the design. You choke out a laugh at the pigmentation; How the fuck are they so bright!
“Sorry if this is boring. I’ve never had a sleepover before.” 
“Shut up, that’s cool as fuck! You gotta battery pack in there or somethin’?” Ellie giggles out a no. A smile stretches wide across your face when you look up at her, hers just as bright. “Are you sleepy?” You ask. 
“Not at all,” she hums as she switches the lamp back on. 
“We could play a gaaame,” You suggest sing-songy. 
“Oh, fuck. Like what.” Ellie huffs a laugh. 
“Truth or dare is a sleepover classic— “
“I’m not licking a toilet seat.” Ellie states flatly. Laughter explodes from you at her face. “I’m not a crazy dare-er like that. The most you’ll have to do is prank call an ex or some shit.” 
“I don’t have an ex.” 
“Oh… Well, a family member.” Ellie nods in acceptance. “Can I ask first?” She asks. 
“Mhm. Lay it on me.” 
“Truth or dare?” 
“Dare.” 
“Show me what’s in your backpack.” 
“…Fuck.” You sigh, and Ellie cackles. “Were you planning this shit?” You ask and stand, walking over to the dresser where your bag sits. You grab it and hand it to her. She wastes no time, stubbing her joint out before rummaging through your shit, sifting through loose-leaf paper and markers used for coloring. You plop down onto her bed and she pulls out your sketchbook. 
“Is it okay if I look?” 
“I dunno,” You smirk, “Can I finally see your fucking portfolio?” 
“Come home with me tomorrow,” she says instantaneously, “It’s there. You can see it.” 
“… Then yes.” 
She flips through pages and pages of visuals you’ve created before your father’s passing. They range from sloppily scribbled orchids, to immaculately shaded depictions of eggplant farms. Ellie giggles when she finds a small comic of Pickle playing with her favorite mouse toy. 
“She still has it.”
“Good,” you whisper. You watch as she studies each page to her heart’s content, fingers dragging across lines that catch her attention. “You’re so good,” she says softly, awestruck and eyes sincere. Your gaze drops to your lap. 
“Thanks,” you match her volume. She hums and flips to the next page. You eye the ashtray on her bed before snagging it, snatching her lighter and igniting the joint. Ellie eyes you like a hawk. 
“I watched a tutorial on how to become a professional pothead… I think I got it down.” 
“Show me.” She whispers and your stomach jolts.
Smoke leaves the lit end of the J and you flick the lighter off. You bring it to your lips and puff your cheeks full of smoke, inhaling as deep as you can before your lungs squeeze. You cough and heave tearfully and Ellie leans in to rub your back. 
“That was better.” She says softly. “I was gonna dare you to hit it anyway.” Your coughing fits calm and you swallow. 
“Shit,” You say. Ellie takes the joint from you and hits it like a fucking pro. She's much closer than she was seconds ago. You examine how her lips curl around the roach, cheeks expanding around carbon before inhaling, allowing the remainder to leave in a bunch of circles. 
“You really blowing O’s right now?” You think you hit it right this time. The jitters you’ve had all day are beginning to dwindle. 
She smiles mischievously, “Mhm.” 
“Truth or dare?” You mumble.
“… Truth.” 
“Did you think about me… after you left?” If you were to lean forward an inch, Ellie’s nose would touch yours. Nose hug. Her face spots are so adorable. 
“Yeah. A lot.” She passes the J back to you and you accept it boldly. You’re releasing your stress with every exhale. Ellie was right; Smoking does feel good. 
“What’d you think about?” 
“Isn’t it my turn?” 
“No.” You smile. 
She shrugs, “I dunno. Just…” Her gaze falls onto her stuffed tabby cat. 
“I feel like you’re boutta say something nasty.” You snicker. 
“Wha — no! The fuck— “
You mock her, rubbing all over yourself, “I thought about your hands, ooo, aaa— “
Ellie smacks your arm a bunch of times before pushing you back onto the bed. You’re howling laughter over her whining, “Bitch, that’s you! Don’t think I forgot about that shit you pulled in the car!”
“You have nice hands! What can I say,” You slur with a dumb grin, “You have, like… classic lesbian hands. All you need is some Hot Topic rings and all the hoes gon’ flock to you.” You take one last toke before the lit end can reach your fingers, stubbing it on the ashtray. 
Ellie seemingly ponders with the theory, “… Is that why a milf ate me out at the club?” 
Your neck almost snaps when it cranes to look at her, “What the fuc— “
“Yeah. Craziest experience I ever had. Like, in my life.” 
“Fuck, Ellie…” Your head flops back onto her Lightning McQueen blankets. “Was it good?” 
“I… I guess. I came.” 
You stare at the star stickers on her ceiling. “You guess?” She only hums. 
“But…”
“Hm?” You urge her to continue. 
“She didn’t… kiss me.” She whispers like it’s dirty to say out loud. You slowly blink at the opaque walls. “I mean, she did, but it wasn’t a real one.” 
“Shame on her.” 
Ellie maneuvers so she’s lying on her back beside you. “Yeah…” 
“Ellie?” 
“Hm?”
“Were you a virgin before I touched you?” 
You expect her to slap the shit out of you again, but she doesn’t. She takes one deep breath before muttering, “Yes.” 
You stop yourself from melting into her bed, turning on your side and propping yourself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. Her eyes are wide as saucers as she looks up at you. You can see her fingers twitching around her pillow, squeezing the fabric of the case. Right on Rigby’s nose. 
“A-Are we still playing truth or dare?” She whispers, her breath hitting your face. She smells like oranges. You shake your head, tongue rolling over your lips. “No.” Your free hand lands on her hip and squeezes. Her jaw slacks around a gasp.
“… Oh.”
“Oh?” You want — need to kiss her so badly. Steal all the oxygen from her lungs so that she has no other choice but to breathe from you. Only you. Your vision is hazy with each travel over her face. She looks so soft, so pliant, so ready and prepared for you to take from her. Just like you hoped. 
Your hand travels, pushing her sweatshirt up just above the waistline of her pants, fiddling with the knot right under her bellybutton. 
You pull at the string until it loosens, “She gave you head?” 
“T-The milf?” 
“Yeah. The milf.” Aggravation seeps through your tone. Ellie’s hips twitch. 
“… Yeah?” She coughs. You hum and hook your thumb under the band and inch them down. They aren’t even off all the way and you can tell she’s naked underneath. 
“How good was it?” 
“I don’t… know?” 
“Yeah you do. How good was it?” You snip, and Ellie winces. “I-I squirted.” She trips over her words and your clit jumps. You don’t say anything, and she seems sad. 
“… Are you mad at me?” 
“No.” Your tone says otherwise. You’re not mad. You don’t know what you are. You don’t like what she’s telling you, though. Fuck milfs… You love them with your entire heart, but fuck them. 
… Yeah. You’re high as shit. 
You sit up and she moves to follow you, but you push her down and she goes limp under your touch. 
“Don’t move. Just lay there.” 
She pouts and you almost kiss it, “Don’t be mad.” 
“I told you I’m not.” You swing a leg over her waist and she sighs dreamily. “How many times did you come.” You’re not asking; She’s going to tell you. You raise her sweatshirt up over her breasts. 
“T-Two — Two.” She moves to throw her sweatshirt over her head but you snatch her wrists, pinning them right on the cushiony mattress. She doesn’t fight you. 
“I want you quiet. Your dad’ll kill me if he hears you.”
Her eyes go glossy and twinkle, “Okay— “ 
“I mean it. Don’t say shit.” 
“M’not gonna,” She whines before her mouth clamps shut. You give her overlapped wrists one last threatening squeeze, watching her fingers go lax before releasing her. You cup her tits and her eyes flutter shut, teeth sinking into her lower lip. You mouth at the valley between her tits and her back arches to follow each swipe of your tongue. 
You kiss all over her ribcage, almost feeling each erratic thump of her heart under your tongue. She keens when your tongue flicks over the rising bud of her nipple, thighs squeezing around your hips. Your mouth latches onto the skin right above her areola, teeth sinking into it before sucking. Her hips raise and she’s breathing like she’s about to faint, and you grin like a fox. 
You don’t let up until a wet maroon mark is left on her tit before swiftly switching to the next one, leaving a much harsher spot on the raised skin. An eager hand scratches down her torso until it brushes the patch of hair that peeks out from under her pants. 
You shove your hand beneath the light cloth and your fingers are drenched in seconds. Your walls squeeze around nothing when you feel her clit jump in excitement. Her squishy lips spread around your middle and index fingers, her throbbing bundle of nerves cinched between them. She keeps making fucking noise and the walls seem to shake. 
“What’d I say.”
“I — m’sorry, can’t h-help i— “
“Be quiet, Ellie.” Your fingers slip over her messy clit in slow, teasing circles. You release her skin until it’s blistering and bruised, quickening the pace of your fingers and she pulses in your hand. Your tongue swirls around her nipple once more, cheeks hollowing when you suckle. 
Your eyes search for hers but her head is thrown back, neck strained and veins popping from beneath her skin. Your lips release the skin and your drippy hand leaves her pants. Your nipples harden under your tee when she reaches for your retreating form, fingers digging into your sweats. 
Her pants are yanked down and tossed across the room, her toes curling in her rainbow-striped socks when your hands hook under her knees to push them up to her chest. Her arms entangle under her bent legs to hold them out of your way. 
“I could fuck you right now with no problems.” You exhale in a daze, “S’fucking drippin’.” You envision how good her pussy will swallow whatever pops in, how easy it’ll stretch around something thick—
Ellie’s eyes shine like you offered her candy and her hole clamps down hard. You chuckle. “You want that?” 
Her head bounces off the pillow in rushed nods. If your mouth wasn’t so fucking dry, you’d be slobbering all over her pussy. “Remember what I said?” You remind her, and she plants a heavy hand over her mouth. You kiss her ankle in appreciation. 
Your fingers move on autopilot, massaging her clit a few more times before inching down, your index pushing past the tight, gripping muscles. Your finger’s swallowed whole in an instant and Ellie’s trying her hardest to mask her squeaks. “Fuck me,” you sigh when she takes another finger with no hassle, walls engulfing your digits in wetness. Her scent is surrounding you and it’s intoxicating. 
“Missed you s’bad— “
“Missed you more, baby. Missed this pussy,” You’re pussydrunk and you’re slipping. That spot in her cunt becomes plumper with each press of your fingertips, “She fucked you better than me?” 
Ellie’s denial is convincing, but that sick part of your brain doesn’t believe her. She loved being touched by someone, wanted by someone. Someone who wasn’t you, and you’re livid, “Nooo— “
You slice through her whine, “No?” Your smile is sadistic and your fingers are relentless, “You said her name like you said mine?” You grit and her eyes cycle into her skull, her hair sticking to her forehead. She’s trying to keep her voice down when she whispers how she only thought about you when she made a mess. She wanted you there, she says, she needed you there to take care of her. 
“Y’fuck me s’good, fuck— “
Your eyes are dead, “I’ll hurt you. Be quiet.” 
Fear flashes beneath her desire and she listens, keeping her sobs to a minimum. The sloppy, wet sounds of her pussy overtake the entire room the harder you fuck in, her nails tearing into her Pikachu stuffie on the corner of her bed. A string of drool dribbles from her bottom lip to her sweatshirt, her eyes glowing under the dimly lit lamp. 
Her walls shake and throb on you, “Gonna cum, baby?” You grin manically at her dumbed-out expression, cheeks wet and eyes droopy. You coo at her and force in as deep as you can, curling your fingers up, fighting against the tight contractions of her walls. 
“Make a mess on me, baby, I gotchu, c’mon— “
A long, drawn-out moan escapes Ellie’s lips, and you’re so hypnotized by the heavy spray of juices that lands on your thigh that you don’t even bother to shut her up. She’s drenching her sheets and blankets and you and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re fucking wave after wave out of her and she’s practically riding your hand, groaned curses and dazed squeaks of your name bouncing off the walls. 
It feels like minutes pass when her orgasm slows, inner thighs drenched and dripping with slickness. Ellie’s entire body shakes and her thighs squeeze around your hand as she attempts to catch her breath, but you’re not done. You’re not satisfied. She didn’t give you enough. 
You climb onto her and your lips connect in a simmering kiss, her wet mouth smacking against yours. Her cold hands land on either of your cheeks and your hips roll downward on hers. She whines into your mouth and tries to meet your hips but you force them back onto the mattress. She yanks at your shirt in attempts to rip it off but you don’t let up, lips slipping down to connect with her neck. 
Your wrist twists downward until you're met with her sticky bush once more, spreading her lips apart and shoving your fingers back inside her. She chokes a wet gasp when they hit right where she needs, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck to hold you close. You’re babbling nonsense in her ear as you work her, telling her how she’s stuck with you, how you’re never leaving her side again, demanding that she says you're the best she’s ever had. And she does, and either you’re fucked out of your mind, or she means it. 
You barely catch how your hips move like you're fucking her, driving into her as hard as you can and she takes it, stretches her legs wider so you can reach the spots she’s never been able to on her own. She’s saying your name like a prayer, like it’s all she’s ever known, and it’s breaking you down, only to build you back up so you can crash back into her. You missed her so fucking bad and you’re unleashing all of your feelings on her body and she eats all of it. How could you leave her when she fucking needs you this badly? You’ll never forgive yourself. 
She’s warning you, crying about how you’re going to make her squirt again, begging you to slow down because she can’t take what you’re giving her, but you feel so good and you know she does, too. You can’t stop even if you want to. You want to drain her, live inside her for the rest of your days on Earth. You’re forcing space for you inside her.
Her nails dig into your shoulders as she cums. She’s unapologetically loud and it flows directly in your ear, and your own noises leave your mouth and land onto the clammy skin of her throat. The jets of fluid that leave her are stronger than the last, and you laugh. Laugh in ecstasy and joy and pleasure that you can’t even feel, but it’s there. Right in your chest. 
You’re not done. You’ll never be done with her. 
The night evaporates with you in between her legs, slurping every bit of cum and stress that you may have caused since knowing her from the source until the sun shines through her blinds, drinking from her like you’ll die without her taste on your tongue. She lets you do whatever you need to feel satiated, but it’ll never be enough now. 
You’ll never be done with her. 
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Ellie’s naked form jolts awake when ticklish breaths hit her shoulder. 
You’re beneath her, slumped, pantsless legs entangling hers and arms twisted every which way as you slobber and snore. A smile grows on Ellie’s face at your peaceful expression; She’s never slept that good in her own bed. She doesn’t want to wake you, but she has to pee so fucking badly. 
She shifts in her position and instantly cringes at the soreness in her legs. Warmth coats the crests of her cheeks when she sees the discarded sheets and pillowcases that were changed only hours ago on the floor, head plopping onto your shoulder to hide in your neck. Your snoring gets cut by a guttural cough and Ellie laughs to herself when your snores pick up again. 
She’s not a morning person in the slightest, so why the fuck is she so happy? Is this the post-sex glow that her friends always tell her about? Is she still considered a virgin if you only used your fingers and tongue? She doesn't feel like one… Sex rules are fucking dumb. She stops stressing before she ruins her morning. 
The pangs in her bladder are getting on her nerves; She wants to cuddle. She sighs and shifts on top of you, trying her hardest not to disrupt your deep slumber. She manages to separate and clothe herself before waddling down the hall and into the bathroom, trying to ignore the aches in her thighs. You wrecked her shit… What the hell. 
The second she leaves the bathroom, she smells coffee. Her dad’s up. She might vomit. 
The two of you weren’t that loud. Definitely not. He couldn’t have heard. He didn’t hear! Ellie’s stealthy as she tiptoes through the hall… until the fucking floorboards croak from beneath her and she nearly faints. 
“Come out, dipshit. I know it’s you.” 
Her eyes squeeze shut and she curses to herself. She reluctantly appears from behind the wall, her dad sitting comfortably on the couch with a filled mug and newspaper, Pickle napping on his lap. He peeks from above his reading glasses. 
“Think we needa talk.” 
“… Fuck me.” She whispers before shamefully limping into the living room. She flops onto the couch and glues her eyes onto the decorative rugs under the coffee table. 
“She seems nice.” Her dad sips his mug. Ellie’s face burns. 
“She is.” She mumbles. You took such good care of her after last night. You got her in the shower, brushed her teeth for her when she was damn near sleepwalking, watched her down two bottles of water. Her heart flutters at how soft your eyes turned when you kissed her to sleep. 
“Is she your girlfriend?” 
“… I dunno.” He hums and sips. 
She doesn’t know. You’re not dating, but Ellie thinks you like her… She thinks. She likes you… a lot. She bites at her nails. 
“You like her?” He asks lowly; She knows he knows. 
“Yeah…” Ellie whispers, cheeks rising on their own. She covers her face when he smiles. 
“Just… take your time.” Joel advises gently, “Did she tell you she’s in therapy?” 
Ellie’s ears perk and her brows furrow, “No.” She sits up. Her dad’s gaze softens, “Wait til she brings it up, then. Y’all should talk before things get serious. It’s only been a couple days.” 
Ellie knows her dad is right, but it’s hard to control herself when she’s around you. She naturally gravitates towards your aura; It’s comforting and she doesn’t want to lose it again. 
A gentle clatter comes from her bedroom and she stands. You’re awake. 
“I love you, kiddo,” Joel says, and she smiles softly. “Love you, too.” 
She scurries down the hallway and enters her bedroom, seeing you sprawled out on the floor, all wrapped in sheets. 
Your eyes are droopy when you croak, “Hello.” Ellie snickers. 
“Hi. What happened.” 
“I was reaching for, like… an orb in my dream and I guess I did it in real life,” Your voice gets so raspy in the morning, and it tickles her ears. Ellie can’t stop laughing. She helps you stand before kissing your cheek. 
“Good morning,” she wraps her arms around your neck. 
“M-Mornin’,” You squeak, eyes flitting around, “Uh… How'd you sleep?” 
“Good.” She’s lost in your brown eyes. They’re warm like the sun. Why won’t you look at her? 
She follows your line of vision down to your fiddling hands before whispering, “You okay?” You simply nod. Ellie’s heart stutters nervously. 
“Do you still wanna come over later?” 
“… Yeah.” Your attempts to disguise your stiffness fail. Ellie feels a lump forming in her throat when she detaches from you, and you search for the new pair of pants she gave you before you went to bed. Ellie watches silently, crestfallen. Something she did triggered your aloofness, so she turns to leave the room.
Her voice cracks, “I’m gonna… shower again— “
“Ellie.” 
She turns, “Yes?” 
Her fists clench when you walk until you’re standing in front of her, warm hand coming up to hold her cheek before kissing her. It’s soft and makes Ellie’s fingers thrum with excitement. It only lasts seconds before you pull away, and Ellie chases your mouth.  
“I’d love to come over. I think we… should talk about some things.” You say quietly, and Ellie silently agrees. You let her go and she wants nothing but for you to pull her in once more, shrouded in your warmth. 
You’re making her bed when Ellie leaves for the bathroom, body falling against the door to calm herself down. You’re not upset with her, and you want to come over… to talk, whatever that means.
The hot water burns her skin; She spends her entire shower thinking about how she can make you as happy as she feels. 
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taggiessssss :3 @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl @callmewhenyoukan @macaroni676 @draculurasblog @ellieaesp @@gravygranules @elsblunt
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waitingonher · 11 months
Note
hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽
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percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite
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pairing: percy jackson x reader
content warning: coupley things
word count: 916
author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL
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you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy. 
percy is such a green flag!! 
HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside. 
you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.
percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.
all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!! 
or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!
sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in. 
shopping dates with percy!! 
you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.
“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body.  your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.”  percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.”  you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.”  “but-”  “no percy.” 
HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears. 
he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.  
this guy has your gas station order down to a tee! 
percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-”  “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face.  with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.”   percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.” 
dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!! 
him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him. 
despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up. 
percy makes you flower bouquets!! 
they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets. 
and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds
one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights! 
you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience! 
even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO 
you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face.  percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband.  “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks.  “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband.  you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.” 
you two are actually a match made in heaven <333 
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kyeomray · 11 months
Text
rise and go down on him
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pairing: kim mingyu x afab reader
content: established relationship, some fluff, slice of life, pwp, smut (18+ MDNI!!!!)
summary: mingyu is the busiest man you know, yet he always finds time to take care of you. so on the one morning he has time to sleep in, you decide to repay the favor. (smut warnings below)
word count: 2.3k
a/n: this is the first fic i’m releasing on tumblr…kinda nervous lol. I realize this concept might be overdone but I thought it was a good place to start and hope I put my own spin on it!! let me know if anything looks wrong with the format and thank you for reading xx
smut warnings: some kissing, dry humping, handjob, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, babe, slut one time), cum eating, some pussy touching, tbh this is filthy sorry not sorry.
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you stir awake as large, warm arms engulf you from behind. smiling sleepily, you bring your hands up to softly rub along the length of them. mingyu grumbles into your hair and you let out a snort at how cute he is. you missed mornings like this.
being an idol, mingyu’s mornings didn’t typically start this freely. he was either up and out the door far before you even even woke up, or so exhausted he slept through most of his off days. you understood - with his grueling and inconsistent schedules - why intimate mornings were such a rare occurrence between the two of you.
despite his lack of time (and often energy), mingyu never neglected to make you happy and totally satisfied in your relationship. if he got food while he was out after practice, he always brought some home for you. he cleaned up after himself no matter how tired he was, knowing how much you didn’t like to do it. if he was too sleepy to dote on you, he would just suffocate you with snuggles until you both drifted off instead. and lastly, he never, ever, left you wanting or needy.
he savored every second of time you had together. his favorite was dragging you to shower with him whenever he got the chance. he would press you against the wet tiles and throw your leg over his shoulder, burying his face into your wet heat until your whole body trembled. he’d bend you over your vanity while you did your morning routine, being careful not to ruin your hair or makeup while he plowed into your cunt from behind. he would even finger you till you cried while you watched movies on the couch if he didn’t have energy for anything else. he always assured you it was okay. he wanted to pleasure you every chance he got. and you were so in love with him for it.
this particular morning, you woke up in a spectacular mood. it’s not often mingyu gets a few days off in a row and it’s definitely not often that you both get to sleep in together. the realization makes your heart flutter, and you bring mingyu’s big hand up to press delicate kisses on his knuckles.
you feel him stir behind you, the evenness of his breathing coming to a stop. he presses his face further into the mess of your hair, inhaling deeply. you giggle slightly at the action, squirming at the warmth.
“good morning, handsome.” you whisper, resuming your stroking of his forcep. he groans quietly behind you.
“mornin’ baby.” mingyu rasps. he still sounds exhausted, and your heart clenches a little. you know he probably won’t want to get up for a while, and not one bit of you blames him or disagrees. you snuggle back into him further, relishing in the way his arms tighten around you.
“missed this so much ‘gyu.” you sigh softly, letting your head fall back to the pillow. “missed waking up with you.”
“me too, angel. c’mere.” mingyu moves his arm away from you and pulls on your hip gently, and you can tell he wants you to turn around.
you do exactly that, shifting your body until you’re facing your boyfriend in his arms. you’re so close that you can feel his soft breath fanning across your face. you beam at him before burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. he smells so warm and good, and you don’t think you ever want to leave this spot.
you love mingyu so incredibly much, and now is one of those times when your whole body is buzzing with that feeling. he always does so much for you, and you want to start doing half as much. making him feel half as loved as he makes you feel (which is still a lot). you can feel the mischievous grin form on your face; you know exactly what to do and you have the time today.
you start off innocent; lifting your head up to place small pecks all over mingyu’s cheeks and nose. his eyes open slightly as a small smirk forms on his lips, and you take that as an opportunity to press your own against them. he immediately melts into you, sighing into your mouth and rubbing his hands along the span of your back.
you hook your arms underneath mingyu’s armpits, moving your hands up to tug softly at the hair on his nape while you lightly suck his lips into your mouth. he groans at the action, and his tongue is immediately prodding at your lips.
you part your mouth, his tongue quickly finding your own and swirling against it. you can’t help the small whine that escaped you when mingyu’s hands find your ass, groping and squeezing the soft flesh shamelessly (and as if he isn’t still half asleep). he chuckles sleepily at your reaction, and you pull back from him briefly.
“you’re kind of a pervert, you know that kim mingyu?” there’s a smile on your face, and mingyu decides to push things a little further, slipping his hands into your underwear and spreading your ass cheeks apart while biting his lip. you gasp, pressing your hips further into him. “forget kind of, you’re a gigantic fuckin’ perv.”
“you do this to me, baby. it’s your fault i’m so horny all the time.” you laugh a little at the pout on his face, and move up to resume kissing him. his mouth is moving hungrily against yours despite the tired state of his body, and it has butterflies erupting deep in your stomach. you yank at his hair again, rougher this time, and attach your lips to the cut of his jaw.
he sighs out when you throw a leg over his hip, essentially laying halfway on top of him. your lips continue their attack on his neck, sucking marks into his soft skin as you roll your hips against him. mingyu is groaning softly, grabbing behind your knee and hauling you even closer to him. your thigh is pressed against something hot and hard when he does so, and an evil grin spreads on your face.
pulling back slightly, you watch mingyu’s face as you slowly trail your hand down his abdomen. the sight before you is kind of hilarious, really. his eyes are still heavy with sleep and his hair is a mess on top of his head, but his cock is raging against you underneath his shorts. you giggle at the sight as your hand reaches its destination.
his breath hitches when you rub your hand over him, stroking the shape of his erection teasingly. you can tell he’s already fully hard, and you squeeze your hand around him firmly just to feel the way his cock pulses in your grip. wetness seeps past the seam of your pussy as you do, and settles on the seat of your panties. you’ve got a long and fun morning ahead of you, you already know it.
“so hard for me already, and I just started touching you, gyu.” slipping your hand under his waistband, you smooth your fingertips over the oozing tip of his cock, relishing in the broken gasp he lets out.
“mm—mhm, y-yeah baby. you make me so hard.” he grunts, and you can tell he’s already gone. already panting as you rub his cock, working him up till he breaks.
“you work so much, baby. let me take care of you today.” you purr against his neck, wetly smooching the flesh there before pushing him to lay fully on his back. his cock stands straight up in his boxers, tenting the fabric almost comically. you work down his body, kissing and licking down his stomach before you reach his crotch.
you decide to tease him further, mouthing his dick over the fabric of his underwear until the material is soaked through. mingyu groans frustratedly, but you can tell he’s still too tired to reprimand you. you continue your ministrations, sucking and licking the covered tip of him till his thighs are trembling and he’s whining above you.
“fuck,” he gasps out when you yank his underwear down just enough so that his cock springs up against his stomach. he’s already leaking so much, and you wrap your fingers around his shaft to feel the weight of him. “p-please,” mingyu manages, tears already welling up in the corners of his eyes. “please don’t tease me baby. n-need you so bad.”
“I’m gonna take care of you gyu, don’t worry. gonna suck on your big cock till you explode.” you emphasize your words by spitting lewdly on his dick, working your hand around him while the wet noises of it fill the room. his body noticeably relaxes into the bed, and that’s when you go to town.
your lips wrap around him, massaging them over his tip before dipping your tongue into his leaking slit. he cries out and his whole body jolts, making you smirk against him. you go back to work, taking him further into your mouth with each bob of your head. his cock is coated in your saliva at this point, and you know this is only the beginning of the mess you two are going to make.
you look up at him as you practically bounce your mouth on his length, taking in his fucked-out expression. he’s still panting, and small whines and grunts are escaping with his breath. squeezing your fingers around his base, you hollow your cheeks around him, slowly sucking up his shaft until you reach the tip and swirl your tongue over him.
“fucking hell…you’re s-so fucking good at that. shit.” mingyu moans loudly, and you can tell you’re gonna be so wet that your underwear stick to you like a second skin after this. you’re desperate to make him cum, feel his cock jump with each spurt, so you hasten your movements. jerking him off as you slurp around him, making spit drip down the length of him.
you unwrap your hand from his shaft, bringing it down to play with his balls instead. he practically sobs out at that, his thighs quivering with each pass your lips make over the ridge of his head. he starts babbling, and that’s how you can tell he’s getting close.
“ss-so good baby. ‘m not gonna last. so so g-good.” mingyu slurs, drool beginning to seep onto his pillow as his eyes roll back. you take him deeper, your nose nearly touching his navel with each bob of your head. he’s so big that you’re starting to gag on him, but you push through anyway. you can’t help but wonder what the room would sound like to someone else, with the way you’re choking and slobbering on his dick.
mingyu’s riding the edge at this point, just needs a little something to get him there. it’s a good thing you know his body like the back of your hand, because you practically read his mind. gripping his girth once again, you squeeze the base of him. your lips tighten around him, dragging your tongue along with them as you move up his shaft. mingyu’s balls are tightening, his cock throbbing as you suction your mouth around him. you mentally prepare to take his load as you lap at his frenulum, already feeling him twitch under your tongue. sure enough, he starts crying out, desperate and pathetic ‘ahhh’s spilling from him and increasing in pitch.
“mmh, gonna cum. shit, baby. g-gonna cum. I—I’m cumming—mmmph!” mingyu’s jaw practically unhinges in a long, strained moan, his back threatening to arch off of the bed as his cock jerks in your mouth, pulsing with spurts of thick cum that land on your tongue and the back of your throat. you swear he cums for hours, his knuckles turning white as he grips the bed sheets.
you struggle to swallow the large mouthful of his load, but you somehow manage with only a few drops leaking out of the corners of your mouth. you squeeze the last few drops out of him with your hand before laving your tongue over him one last time to clean him up.
his body jerks and he whimpers in sensitivity at the overstimulation. you place one last kiss on his tip before sitting up, knowing he’s had enough. you watch him with your hands on your knees, observing the way he’s attempting to catch his breath, his arm draped across his forehead. he manages a small chuckle as he notices you staring, cocking your head to one side.
“you’re fucking unreal. I hope you know that.” he breathes, making your cheeks blossom with heat despite the lewd acts you just performed on him. you know mingyu is spent, but honestly giving him head makes you so fucking horny, you’re worried you might have to rub one out in the shower if he has no energy left.
luckily for you, mingyu can tell exactly you need him (by the way you squirm and squeeze your thighs together), and he won’t ever leave you wanting. especially after some of the best head of his life. he motions you over to him with a lazy wave of his hand. “c’mere baby. wanna feel how wet you are.”
you crawl over to him slowly, situating your clothed, aching pussy straight over his outstretched hand. he hums in delight at the way your arousal immediately coats his fingertips, and teasingly presses them into you. you whimper shakily, practically keeling over as he immediately finds your throbbing clit.
“fuck,” mingyu groans. “fucking drenched. does sucking my dick make you that horny, dirty girl?” he teases, his sleepiness fading away with each passing second as your hips grind into his hand.
“y-yes gyu,” you whine. “need your cock so bad. please. please.” he chuckles at your desperation, pulling his hand away from your cunt and grabbing your hand instead and pulling you to straddle him.
“such a little slut. c’mere baby, ride my cock.”
***
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januaryrabbit · 11 months
Text
how seventeen would act around their s/o while drunk heheee
pairing: seventeen x gn reader, established relationship, fluff
word count: 1.8k
warnings: alcohol, cursing, mentions of sleeping over and physical affection w/ the boys but it’s meant in a fluffy context, not a suggestive/mature one!
other disclaimers: lowercase intended, probably typos, setting is hanging out with all the boys and with you!!!!!
a/n: i just realized in my wip post i said "crush" instead of "s/o"........WOOPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT ANYWAY hello everyone, i’m finally back with another post! i;m sorry for the very long hiatus, i p much always have something going on in my life lol @-@ but i have time now to actually write!!! i hope you enjoy this one hehe -mina
✩‧₊˚clingy drunks:
mingyu: this man will not leave you alone. he is in love with you. and he’s cheesy! in a sweet way :) will kiss your hand every few mins, lean on you, or put his arm around you so you lean on him hehe. i think he would also want you to reciprocate the clinginess too hehe,,,it makes him feel loved :3 i can see him moving your hand to his hair to ask you to play with it, and if you stopped, he would just take your hand and put it back in his hair LOl. he strikes me as someone who would take care of you (kinda like how he takes care of drunk hoshi hehe) and makes sure you're ok, even if he's drunk himself :]
seungcheol: omg omg HES GOING TO DOTE ON YOU SO MUCH!!! “jagi are you ok” “jagi do you need water” “jagi i’ll walk you to the bathroom, be careful”...he doesn’t realize that he himself is wobbling around and spilling water, LMAO. he just wants to help his baby!!! would def ask where you’re going if you get up, ask you to stay over with him, etcetc. would always have an arm around you and constantly LOL. would also go on a random rant about how protective he is of you HAHAHA!! like “Y/N . IF ANYONE MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. TELL ME RIGHT AWAY . I WILL DEFEND YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH  EVEN IF IT’S MY OWN FRIENDS I DONT CARE WHO I HAVE TO BEAT UP (svt: BRO WTF?????) . GOD I LOVE U SOMUCH .” pls give him some water and a kiss!!!
junhui: i don’t think he’d necessarily be like talkative or doting, but i think he’s the type to just want to be around you and would sit really close to you :3 he almost gives me like Protective Bf vibes in the way that he’d just wanna be by your side to make sure you’re feeling ok too. plus, junnie just likes your company! i can picture him sending a lot of smiles toward you every few minutes because he’s so happy you;re his partner and he feels so comfy with you next to him :) also he likes leaning his head on your shoulder and he WILL show you cat pics the entire night…..pls comment on all of them or he’ll get sad. he also gives me the vibes of someone who has lazy days with his s/o after a night of drinking hehe…napping, hotpot and movies :)))
✩‧₊˚loud/emotional/(verbally) affectionate drunks:
soonyoung: MESSY U WILL HAVE TO CARE HIM !!!! did you see him on lee youngji’s show?? so cuteeee :( he would just shower you w/ affection heheh. im picturing him hugging you from behind like how he hugged the ice in the youngji ep and he would nestle his head into the crook of your neck and reach over to kiss your cheek :3c he would announce like every 20min how much he loves you to the whole room like "THIS IS MY PARTNER I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH THANKS!!!" and would post blurry pics of the two of you on his story with typos "i lvoe tehfm sonmchch" HAHA!! youll definitely have to sober up to take care of him hehe. would definitely start crying bc he loves you so much and YOU have to comfort him……you and mingyu get him to the car that night because he can’t walk by himself. the next morning hes like babe that was so fun round 2 of drinking tonight???????????? (horanghae pose)
seungkwan: BRUH KWAN GETS INTO (JOKE) ARGUMENTS WHILE HE’S DRUNK I HAVE NO DOUBTS!!! 90% of the time he’s trying to pick a fight with mingyu or chan i just know it I KNOW IT TO BE TRUE!! but with his s/o, i think he’s the type to be like HONEY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU and he starts belting a love ballad and singing directly to you HAHA!!! (vernon: why are u always trying to outsing everyone. no one else is singing.) seungkwan ignores vern’s comment and keeps going tho. he almost moves himself to tears by how much he loves you and how much love he’s pouring into his performance LOL. you tell him you love him too and that he doesnt have to sing VERY LOUDLY IN PUBLIC to profess his love !!! its not that serious pls sit down!!! and hes like MY LOVE FOR YOU IS SERIOUS . and that’s how you end up with a pouty and drunk kwan!!!!!!!!!
chan: oh my sweet chan,,he would just shower you with affection LMAO like “i love you. you’re amazing. you look so beautiful right now, you know that?” type of thing. he’s just the biggest simp hehe. i think hes also the type to just wanna have fun, he'd prob cheer you on if you took a shot like FUCK YEAH BABE GO OFF!!!! but i also think that he would be doing EVERYTHING for you. "i'll pour your shot!!!!! don't lift a finger SERIOUSLY!!!!!" asks you every 30min if youve had water. (you: yes. i had some 30min ago. when you GAVE ME SOME.) gets you snacks. if you needed to throw up he WILL hold your hair with a drink in the other hand (for him)!!!! he also helps you put your jacket on at the end of the night. it doesn't matter how drunk he is, he's firm on taking care of YOU!!! <3
✩‧₊˚(physically) affectionate drunks:
wonwoo: he’s all smiles for you hehe. clings onto your arm whenever you’re near him. he wouldn't be too loud or anything, but i think he'd shyly whisper compliments to you now and then about how you look nice or how much he loves you. i think he’d be one of the more chill people, he just feels happier than usual bc of the alcohol hehehhe. usually, wonu is pretty good at keeping himself composed when you show him affection. but when he’s drunk, i think he’d react a little more…he strikes me as someone who’s more verbally/physically affectionate when it’s just you two, but around friends/family he tones it down. but when he’s drunk i think he would be comfortable having you sit on his lap or having an arm around you <3
jihoon: i am convinced lee jihoon is a different man when he’s drunk!!!!!!!!!  i have a hot-ish take when it comes to drunk uji…omg woozi would SOOOO open up physically and emotionally to you..and he’d be the type to always, Always have an arm around your waist and constantly hold your hand, looking at you with a smile that leads all the way up to his eyes. he’s someone who has dealt with a lot in his life, but in this moment, he’s so grateful to be here with his friends, and someone he loves that also loves him for who he is. the reason i think he’d be like this is juts because like. he doesn’t drink much, but when he does, feelings he’s been keeping to himself finally come up to the surface. also his face, neck and ears are constantly bright red because of the alcohol LOL. but ALSO they'd be red the next day when he realizes how he behaved in front of you hehe…. don't tease him too much about it or he'll die of embarrassment!
seokmin: dont ask me why bc idk but i think he would ruffle your hair constantly because youre so cute. then he would get distracted and talk to the bros for a bit, look at you again and remember how cute you are and ruffle it again sorry i dont make the rules!!!!!!! dk is definitely the loud/funny drunk hehe…hes the type to be giggly/try to make everyone laugh :) but i think he’d definitely try to make you laugh the most !! mostly in terms of physical affection though, i think he’d just dote on you a lot…like you know in the dingo video how he kept kissing woozi??? yeah he does that to you. along with the hair ruffles. and the attempts to get you to laugh. good luck. you’re going to drown in affection from this man LOL. 
✩‧₊˚happy/chill drunks:
vernon: HE WILL CARE YOU this man is all vibes. he’s just here to have a good time lol. you’ll probably be the drunk one who needs to be taken care of :3 but if he was somehow convinced to get really drunk, i think he would still just be vibes. but happier vibes. i think he would just laugh at everything and keep a hand constantly on your knee heheh. also i think he would encourage seungkwan’s antics more when he’s drunk i’m just saying .
minghao: minghao is just relishing in the moment of enjoying his time with his friends and partner~ he doesn't strike me as someone who drinks much, kinda like vernon. he'd be more focused on having a good time with everyone! i think he's the type to have hangover remedies ready for you at home for the next day. i think he would also be the type of bf to know when to cut you off LMAO like “y/n’s had 4 shots….hyung STOP pouring them another one!!!!!!!!” he just seems like he'd be prepared to take care of his partner :) you're so lucky!! he’s also the type to observe you and take pictures/videos if you’re doing something funny while you’re drunk LMAO!!!!
joshua: josh is a giggly drunk i have no doubts. also in the dingo video that man was RED af!!! would probably be like “im fine im SO SOBER RIGHT NOW…BABE TELL THEM HOW SOBER I AM!!!” he is not sober. i also think he would be the type to compare hands with you LMAO. you’re just like ???? you know how big both our hands are???? you’re literally my bf???? and hes like I JUST WANTED TO CHECK OK!!! tbh he seems so fun to be around LMAO like he on the way to the hangout hes like “babe lets match each other if u drink i drink” and ur like HELLO SIR???????? WHO IS DRIVING US HOME?????? (jeonghan does and he sleeps over.)  he just wants to have FUN and let loose with the homies and his partner!!!! consequences are for TOMORROW, y/n!!!!!! (he might start sulking if you don’t agree to match him but it’s fine you both know your limits hehe)
jeonghan: i see him as someone who doesn’t go too wild when drinking. kinda like vernon and minghao, i think he’s more there for vibes than getting fucked up lol. if anything, he’s doting on you because he finds you so cute, especially when you’re drunk hehehe. HE would be the one to ask you to do aegyo or something and when you do he just dies of cuteness lmao. i think he would also tease you in silly ways, like convincing you that he and s.coups are actually long lost brothers who found each other in college, or that seungkwan is a natural blonde. and of course you believe him which is the funniest shit ever to him!!!! LMAO!!!!! your shock and wonder at his blatant lies is the cutest thing to him. don’t worry tho he’ll tell you the next day nothing he said was true, except for when he said he loves you :)
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impishjesters · 6 months
Note
I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good
How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)
If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)
Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!
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Leaning on one another
warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol
Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.
He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.
So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.
Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.
He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.
Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)
If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.
In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.
Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.
He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.
That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)
He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.
Bonus
Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.
The first question out of his mouth is:
“Is that fucking jazz?”
“No, just normal jazz.”
That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.
When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.
You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.
Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.
Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.
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kiyoomi-levin · 2 months
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villain pt.1 (bakugoxf!reader) [NSFW]
a/n this was originally supposed to be a single fic but i wanted to see how ppl liked it lol. pt 2 is already in the making (and i promise it's more spicy than this one)
summary: harley (you) realize that joker (your boyfriend) is in love with batman (bakugo). If only harley also knew batman’s obsessed with her. —> inspired by this short  word count: 4.9k warning(s): bakugo’s literally just a horndog
“I swear, Ren, if you pull anything like that again…”
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as he pulls away from your grip. 
“Enough, y/n. I always get you out, don’t I?” 
You frown, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. 
“You try getting caught and being put into jail multiple times in a single month. It’s not funny,” you sigh. 
You don’t even know what it’s like to be tied up by Bakugo fucking Katsuki, you want to add. 
But you keep your mouth shut. 
Ren’s already in a bad mood, jaw clenched tight as he walks faster. You’re almost jogging at this point just to keep up with his pace.
“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath. 
Ren hardly glances at you as the two of you enter your cheap apartment complex, walking silently up the two flights of stairs to your front door.  
You cringe as you round the corner—on your front door is a familiar piece of white paper, the contents of which you already know by heart.
Late rent notice: Dear tenet, your rent was due on the 7th of February. As of the date of this letter, your payment is 4 days past due. 
Frustrated, you rip the paper off of the metal door as Ren reaches over and enters the pin. 
Your jaw drops as he walks inside carelessly, unbothered with the notice. 
The two of you have been dating for almost a year now; you’re long used to his carefree nature. 
That’s what first drew you to him. 
Now it merely disgusts you. 
“Ren,” you cautiously call out as the door shuts behind you, “I think it’s time to give it up.”
Your boyfriend tosses himself onto the wrinkled couch, pointing towards the fridge. Frowning, you head over and grab him a cold beer. 
“Thanks babe.”
You collapse next to him, relishing in the fluffy texture. After being in a holding cell for a few days, you’ve definitely missed the warmth of your home. 
“I know you’re mad, and I understand. But we learned something new from last time, didn’t we? Dynamight was literally showing off his weaknesses! If we just—”
“Ren, stop it! That was the last time. I’m done. Seriously.” 
Your boyfriend is pouting now, reaching over to hold you in his arms. You want to fight back, you should. 
He jumps into his usual rant about how much he hates Dynamight; that asshole, always flaunting his wealth and looks. He’s just a shitty hero with a shitty quirk.
Meanwhile, you’re fighting back tears of frustration. 
How had you gotten here?
A year ago, you had seemingly met the man of your dreams at the villain rehabilitation center (looking back, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea). 
You had been working there as a volunteer and was popular with all of the residents as a bright psychology student and aspiring therapist.
Despite the havoc these wannabe villains had wreaked across Japan, you had treated all of them with kindness and respect, hoping you would be able to make a positive difference in at least a single person’s life. 
How naive you had been. 
“Hey, y/n,” Ren smirks as you gently open the door to the small office. 
You exhale— this one villain has been bothering you more often recently, and he was just too cute for his own good. 
“Takanashi Ren. Your counseling appointment isn’t until later this evening.”
“Aw. I can’t give my favorite therapist a visit?” 
You grin at him, pushing your dark rimmed glasses up your nose. 
“I’m not a therapist yet,” you retort, stepping back as Ren pushes back from his chair, striding over to you. He has you cornered to a wall, and the muscles of his arm flex dangerously, reminding you of his crimes. 
Despite this, all you can notice is how bright his eyes are— gosh, you just love the way they twinkle.
“I’m sure a smart girl like you’ll achieve all your academic dreams. I just hope I’m out of here on time to watch you cross that stage.”
And with that, you’d fallen head over heels for a cringy, third-rate villain with no plans for the immediate future. But the more time you spent with him, you truly felt as though you’d met your match. 
He was intelligent. Witty. Funny. 
Most importantly, he was different. His ideas for a liberated world— where all quirks were considered equal and everyone had the freedom to use their quirks as they wanted— was just unlike what you’d ever considered. 
If only you had paused for a moment and asked him just how he would create that world. 
It had been too late when you had realized what you had gotten yourself into. Now, you spend your days as a college dropout, supporting your boyfriend in his schemes that always end in failure and with you in handcuffs. 
But you had already sworn to devote yourself to him. 
Question. Would you die for me?
Yes.
That’s too easy. Would you live for me?
… Yes.
“y/n, are you listening? We’ll stake out at his condo. I’ll do all the work, babe, you just have to stand watch. I’ve already planned it all out. ”
There it is, that strike of pain in your heart. 
Dynamight. 
That’s all your stupid boyfriend cares about. 
You’re already shaking your head, refusing furiously— but he’s begging, begging! 
… And you sigh and look away. 
“Last. Time.”
You peek out of the corner of your eye to see Ren’s face brighten. 
He really is just as pretty as when you first met him a year ago. 
“I promise, y/n. Last time.”
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Fuck Ren and his promises.
From the moment you had scaled Dynamight’s luxurious condo, you had known your boyfriend had skimped on doing his research again. 
There’s no way we’re gonna get away with this.
Stuffed in a large delivery box, you only pray that Ren’s mailman cosplay is good enough to get through the lobby. 
Nervously holding your breath, you cringe as your boyfriend flirts with the ladies at the front desk and wheels you into the elevator. 
Tap tap tap. 
Three gentle knocks on the front of the box and you know it’s your turn.
“I’ve just disabled the hallway cameras,” Ren whispers as he pulls the box open. 
You step out eagerly, stretching, before turning towards the door. 
The corners of your mouth twitch as you suddenly remember why you hate rich people. 
Dynamight’s door just screams narcissism— who really needs a gold plated front door? 
Bakugo, the nameplate reads. The dreaded name you hear on a near-daily basis. 
You scoff as you reach into your pocket and pull out your decoding tool, placing it on the keypad in a single, practiced motion.
Ren taps his foot impatiently as you work with the machine— you only let out a breath of relief as the door buzzes and swings open what feels like an eternity later. 
You’re already sweating as your heart thumps with discomfort and fear at being at the hero’s homebase. 
Comically, it feels as though the two of you have just broken into a villain’s lair. 
“God, babe. You’re the best,” Ren murmurs, pushing you aside. 
He’s a little too eager to ruin his nemesis’ life. 
Ren rushes inside of Dynamight’s home, barely holding back his immediate laughter as he spots the marble dining table. 
He’s already poking around as you carefully close the door quietly behind you, tiptoeing into the large house. 
“Can you believe this man? He’s so fucking full of himself,” Ren spits as he stares at the various newspaper clippings of Dynamight adoring the bookshelves.
Forget that— if you were Dynamight, you’d be living like this too. 
This is life you had envisioned for yourself. 
Gorgeous white pillars uphold a high ceiling and there’s a leather couch in the center of the room. A giant television sits in front of it, almost mocking you. 
One day… When this was all over, would Ren want to live like this with you?
“Come on, babe. We gotta find the data,” Ren says, heading towards the closest door to him. 
The initial excitement has worn off and he’s now refueled by hatred. 
Right. The data. 
If you could just get your hands on the data of all of the current Japanese heroes, that would be the biggest data breach in the history of the World Heroes Association. 
You and Ren would go down as super villains— a title you still weren’t sure if you wanted. 
You repress these useless thoughts, though, and trail Ren around the large home as he throws open doors. 
“Are you sure he’ll even have it?” 
“Yeah, there’s no way a top hero wouldn’t have access to this— Damn! A basement. You think he’d keep his PC down here?”
You think back to your encounters with Dynamight, shivering as you remember his piercing red eyes meeting yours. 
Your boyfriend heads down without hesitation as you follow him, nearly jumping when he yelps in joy. 
“His computer’s right here.” 
You swallow as you turn your head around the dark basement, eyes not yet adjusted to the dark. 
Ren presses the power button of the computer and the entire room lights up from the bright screen. 
Couch, television, gaming consoles, mini fridge— this must be his man cave. 
“Alright. Get on it, babe,” Ren says, stepping back as the flickering monitor. 
Sighing, you lean down, plug in your trusty usb stick into the PC. This was going to be a long day. 
WARNING. 
You jump for real this time, letting out a surprised shout as the machine blares a loud alarm. 
Holy fuck, what’s going on? 
Before you can move, the heavy door to the basement suddenly slams shut— you hear the metallic locks clicking in place.
You glance at Ren in desperation, but he’s not looking at you, only frowning at the computer.
“Get on with it. We have at least 15 minutes, I’ll find a way out by then.”
You don’t bother protesting. Despite his easy going demeanor, you know Ren cares about you.
“Don’t worry, he’s in Korea for a conference,” he reassures you as he steps towards the staircase.
BOOM. 
You scream as you’re pushed back by an explosion, groaning in pain as you strike the side of Dynamight’s large desk. 
Collapsing on the ground, dust arises on either side of you. 
Your ears are ringing and your vision is hopelessly blurry.
When you muster up the strength to touch your stinging face, you wince as your hand comes back bloody. 
Ren. He was closer to the door. 
Your eyes widen as you roll yourself onto your side, trying to reach up to the chair next to you for help—
“Fucker!” 
You gasp as your vision clears and you take in the sight in front of you.
Dynamight has your boyfriend pressed onto the floor and strikes him in the face, once. Twice. Three times. 
Ren tries to fight back, but he’s basically hopelessly laying there, taking in the blows. 
It’s clear you’ve caught him off duty— Dynamight’s clad in nothing but a tank top and shorts. 
Despite that, he dominates your boyfriend easily. He’s kneeling on Ren’s stomach, one hand pinning down your boyfriend’s shoulder and the other punching his face at a sickening rate. 
You do nothing but watch as you watch Ren’s eyes flicker, then shut. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins, taking away the remaining rationality in you.
Pushing yourself onto your feet, you throw yourself at Dynamight, whose eyebrows merely raise as he registers your face.
You pull out your knife, swinging for his neck— Dynamight throws up his arm, blocking your attempt— before you can react, you’re pinned to the ground next to your boyfriend. 
“You… asshole…” you hiss, airflow momentarily cut off.
You struggle against Dynamight's strength, grimacing. You’re on your stomach, hands pinned behind your back. You try to kick him, but the strength in your legs fails you. 
Dynamight lets out a small laugh as he sits on your ass and your eyes widen as you feel his dick through his pants grinding on you purposefully. 
Fucking pervert. 
You turn your head to your side, glaring into Dynamight’s blood-colored eyes. The corners of his eyes are pointed upwards, he’s grinning madly. 
Leaning forward, Bakugo rests his right hand next to your face. Your immediate reaction is to lunge at it, trying to bite, but he pulls back quickly, yanking on your wrists. Your body arches upwards and you wince at the slight pull. 
“Easy. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Despite your slowly subsiding anger and hatred towards the man on top of you, you feel yourself blushing against your will. 
You hate how he talks to you. You silently remind yourself to take a recording of it next time and report him for sexual harassment. 
While you’re fuming over your current situation and mumbling profanities at him, Bakugo leans back and admires you.
You look really good like this— actually, you look perfect. Your eyes are slightly moist, cheeks flushed and lips a delectable pink. Bakugo’s mouth is watering at the sight. 
He’s already hard. He’s been aching in anticipation since he first got the alert that you broke into his home. 
What would happen if he were to just… 
You’re staring up at Bakugo again, watery eyes meeting his narrowed ones, and he feels a shiver run down his spine as he admires his reflection in them. 
“Can you let me go already? You’ve won, we get it,” you huff, cheeks inflating. 
He wants to stuff them full with his cock.
Easy, Dynamight. You’re a hero. 
He glances down at you apathetically, although his cock is throbbing. 
You ignore it the best you can, although you’re turning pink again.
You shift from side to side, hoping you won’t have to beg him to let you go. 
You’d rather die than do that.
Smirking, he clicks his tongue as he reaches forward with his right hand and strokes your face. 
“Give me a reason. You’re imposing on my home, doing who knows what?” 
Your teeth find his hand this time, sinking into the hardened flesh.
You bite down as hard as you can, wishing he’d just let go of you. Your jaw is just beginning to ache as you muster the courage to look back up at him.
Your blood runs cold as you notice his unchanging expression— he looks almost bored. But something flashes in his eyes.
Fuck, maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 
As you pull back, you squeak as he grabs you by your hair, sliding forward to sit on your wrists.
One hand holds your head upwards, while his other holds your face. His hand engulfs your entire jaw as he forces you to look into his eyes. 
“I could take you right now, but I’ll save that for later.”
From a distance, you hear the shouts of policemen and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Bakugo lets go and watches as your head falls back onto the floor.
You’re so caught up in the commotion you don’t catch his next words.
“You’ll be begging for it soon, anyway.”
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You can do nothing but watch in handcuffs as Ren’s eyes open hazily and focus on you. 
“y/n, I’m so sorry,” he starts. 
You shake your head, smiling sadly at him. Was it really over? 
No, you promised you’d always be with him—
“Dynamight.” 
Your boyfriend’s eyes have shifted from you onto Dynamight, the one person that has been on his mind obsessively for the past few years.. 
Ren’s shouting at Dynamight now, who merely laughs in response. 
You don’t even notice that Dynamight’s staring at you.  
All you notice is that you’re not in Ren’s line of sight anymore. 
The words of policemen and Ren start swirling together as your heartbeat slows.
He’s not in love with you, is he?
You can hear your heart physically shattering.
He’s in love with Dynamight.
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Bakugo’s still embarrassingly hard as he readjusts himself, sighing as he looks around his ransacked home. 
The police have taken longer than he’d hoped, making sure to photograph everything.
Even more irritatingly, the medics had tried to heal your teeth marks imprinted in his arm, which he had pulled away quickly. 
“I’m going to save this as evidence during the trial,” Bakugo had quickly lied. 
The young medic had blinked in confusion, but nodded eagerly, not wanting to defy the number one hero’s demand.
When his agency had first received the tip that you and Whiplash would be attempting a data breach, Bakugo had rolled his eyes and hesitated on flying back in early from his vacation.
You and Whiplash were shitty, third-rate villains, if you could be even labeled as such. 
You would always be deserted by your boyfriend, who’d dip the moment Bakugo stepped close to the crime scene. You (with your gorgeous, angered face that turns him on so fast) would be left behind for Bakugo to handcuff. 
Bakugo still remembers the first time he’d been called to a scene with you and Whiplash. 
One year ago, two petty, new criminals had attempted to rob a series of homes in upper Tokyo. 
Bakugo had been whisked away from his date with a pretty newscaster and was irritated to hell— he had been working all night sweet talking to the girl and was surely going to get laid— but when he had gotten to the scene, still pulling on his gloves, all thoughts of regret flew out the window.
“Get me the fuck out of here!” 
The female villain is shouting as she kicks her legs. 
The scene is laughable— her upper half is tapped in the tights washing machine and Bakugo takes his sweet time striding over to you, admiring the curve of your ass and the way you shake as you try to free yourself. 
“What happened here?” 
Bakugo smirks. He’d heard that the male villain had gotten away but the female was still somewhere on the premises. 
He’d been incredibly lucky to find you first. It’s hard to hold back from slapping your ass and ripping those black tights off of you, but Bakugo swallows and moves to touch your hip instead.
You squeak in surprise as you feel two fingers tracing a triangle onto your upper thigh. 
“Stop touching me, pervert! You sick freak! I have a boyfriend! I’ll kill you if you try anything!” 
Your scream is slightly muffled as you bang your hands on the sides of the circular machine.
Your back is aching from being bent over for the past ten minutes and you arch your back, holding back a pained moan. Whoever this asshole was, you were gonna rip him a new one when he freed you. 
Bakugo frowns as ‘boyfriend’ echoes inside his head. 
Were you being truthful or were you just trying to scare him off? 
It’s taking everything in him to not grind against you and with every passing second Bakugo feels closer to losing the battle with his sex driven core.
After another moment of deliberation, Bakugo reaches out, yanking you effortlessly out of the machine. 
God. 
You were just as pretty as he’d hoped. Face flushed and sweaty from being inside a confined space for so long, you collapse on your ass and fan yourself dramatically, taking in big gulps of fresh air before looking up to glare at him. 
“Fucking freak! What sort of perverted police officer are you?” You demand, frowning as Bakugo silently holds his hand out. 
A few seconds of silence pass before you awkwardly take it, allowing him to help you up. 
“Thank you,” you mumble as you wipe your hands on your shirt. 
Your eyebrows are still furrowed with frustration as you bite the inside of your cheek. 
Ugh… you’re so adorable, Bakugo wants to just squeeze you to death. 
Now he really wishes he hadn’t helped you out. You were helpless, bent over just perfectly, practically inviting him…. As his imagination runs wild, he feels the blood rushing towards his groin. 
Oblivious, you stretch your sore body, letting out a soft moan. You’re strangely relaxed, as if you were simply meeting an old friend. 
“I’m going to be arresting you now. Turn around,” Bakugo sighs, shifting his balance from foot to foot. If only he wasn’t an up-and-coming hero.
Your eyebrows raise and the ends of your lips quirk upwards. 
“Isn’t there something else I could do to get out of this?” You tease, turning around and holding your wrists behind your back.
Fuck. Is that you wiggling your ass or is he just seeing things? 
Bakugo’s breath hitches. The cold cuffs in his hands are only furthering his imagination. He’s about to pounce on you, but as he’s deciding which piece of your clothing he’ll rip away first—
“Don’t get any ideas, perv. That was a joke.” 
You giggle at his silence, looking back to glance at his face, which pales in humiliation.
You’re still laughing as Bakugo curses under his breath and shoves you harshly into the police car. 
You wouldn’t be laughing when he fucks you silly—which, he swears, he will one day. 
Since your destined meeting, you had been on Bakugo’s mind. 
Every. Single. Day. 
Your pout. Your delicate hands. Your arching back. Your whines and the way you try to fight back every time he walks you to the police van.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a phase.
To Bakugo’s horror, when he met up with the same newscaster from that night, he found himself unable to get hard, no matter how much she sucked him off. 
He could have waved that off as an anomaly, but six girls later, Bakugo finally had to admit he may have a problem on his hands. 
Bakugo knew the solution to his ED and meaningless infatuation with you.
He was sure all he had to do was fuck you. Easy enough— he’s confident in his sex appeal.
But you were also an impossible target.
You and your villain boyfriend moved around constantly, living under various aliases. 
And when Bakugo could finally meet you (about once a month, when your boyfriend’s plans were foiled once again) you were whisked off into police custody before he could even bring up sex. 
How was he even supposed to get to that topic, anyways? 
Hey, y/n. I only get hard when I see you cry. Or, actually, when I just think about you at all. 
Wanna bang?
Bakugo halfheartedly (almost unconsciously, this is just an immediate reaction to seeing you) discards his shorts and briefs as he leans against the back of the couch. 
Staring up at the ceiling, he’s now regretting letting his agency call for backup. 
He’d had you under him, in his own home. He even had a condom ready in his shorts— something he’s started carrying around since last year in hopes he’d get ambushed by you randomly.
It’s unfortunate he couldn’t take things further with you, but for tonight, his imagination and thoughts of you would have to suffice. 
He almost saw you cry…
Bakugo’s almost drooling at the memory of your teary eyes as you stared at your boyfriend, who was dragged away into the back of a van despite his protests.
Fuck. What does he have to do to make you cry? 
He throughout beating up Whiplash would be enough, but maybe you didn’t like your boyfriend as much as he thought— that makes him smile. 
“Ugh…” 
Bakugo can barely hold back a soft moan as his cock hardens quickly, now standing in his hand. 
It’s hot, and typically Bakugo would shed all his clothes, but tiny specks of your blood decorate his white top. It’s like you’re basically touching him.
He admires the bruising teeth prints on his right hand, the one that’s now slowly stroking his dick. 
Your mouth was on his hand. His hand. The thought alone makes him want to cum.
Bakugo allows himself a full stroke, groaning as he presses himself deeper into the couch.
It almost feels as if he’s simply overstimulating himself, as if he’d already cum— that’s how strong you were as a stimulus. 
With how much you tease, you’d start with the tip, wouldn’t you? 
Bakugo gently holds his cock at the base with his left hand and thumbs the tip, rubbing his rough thumb against the wet precum. 
He’d manhandle you, he’s imagined it countless times, it’s what a girl like you needs. 
In his imagination, you’d be a pillow princess. He’s confident about this. 
Your attitude, the way you demand he frees you… it all points towards you being a menace in bed.
You would saunter into the bedroom, wearing nothing but thin lingerie (in his favorite color, dark orange, almost red). You’d smirk as you climb onto his bed, making yourself comfortable. 
Your pretty eyes would narrow as he walks in shirtless with a raging boner. 
You would be sitting there, legs outstretched for him to grasp. 
Bakugo would grab your ankles in each hand, focusing on kissing your precious feet before moving upwards. 
He’d press his lips against your shin, your knee, then suck your plush thighs, savoring your taste. 
He’d maintain his eyes on you throughout, admiring the way your lips part slightly and your heavy breaths. You’d glare at him when you notice him staring at you— you’re always fighting back, aren’t you?
But in bed he’s the one in control. 
He’d get to your panties and give your clothed clit a lick, pinning down your legs that threaten to close. 
Bakugo would suck, embracing the taste of lace and your juices leaking from across the other side of clothing. 
Contrary to popular belief, Bakugo wasn’t that full of himself. 
In bed, he only has one priority— your pleasure. 
Bakugo allows himself to slightly loosen his grip and start stroking his entire length slowly, just like how you’d do it. 
Just a few singular strokes feel so good, his entire body lights up, electricity running up his spine. 
He runs his thumb along the one long vein from the base of his cock, shivering. His cock is getting heavier in his hand and a familiar pressure is slowly building in his stomach. 
After a few moments, Bakugo would finally push aside the flimsy fabric, licking your clit directly. 
He’d be fisting his cock while doing so, like he’s doing now, stroking to the rhythm of his flattened tongue. 
He’d be almost drooling at the taste, sometimes letting himself wander to your hole and slip his tongue in your tightness. He’d continue alternating between sucking and licking, relishing in your increasingly loud moans. 
Your legs would begin to tremble beneath him and you’d start begging quietly despite your stubbornness.
Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head— and that’s when he’d stop, pulling away entirely, still stroking himself, tightening his fist around his heat if necessary to prevent himself from releasing. 
You’d whine and maybe kick him, legs weakened from your ruined orgasm. 
A little edging never hurt anyone. 
It only makes the pleasure of a shared orgasm stronger. 
Bakugo would tease your hole, nudging at the entrance with the tip of his leaking cock. 
Without warning, he’d thrust— you’d groan from the intrusion, grasping the sheets. 
He’d start moving mercilessly, pulling out his length to the tip before slamming it back in, over and over. He would quicken with your moans fueling his pace. 
He’d lean over to capture your pretty lips with his, intertwining your tongues. 
Fuck, Bakugo really isn’t going to last, especially with his new favorite mental photograph—you lying on your back helplessly. Bakugo’s mind does the photoshop for him, removing the debris from the explosion and placing the two of you on his bed.
He’s stroking himself fervently now, at the same pace he imagines himself fucking you at. 
You’d be shaking under him, holding back your tears. And, in typical y/n fashion, your pride would force you to hold your moans back. You’d be pressing your trembling hand against your mouth, wouldn’t you? You would be biting down on it, with the same teeth that were clamped down on his own hand earlier.
You’d cum as he rubs his thumb roughly against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth dropping open. 
Bakugo would make sure to ride you out throughout the entirety of your orgasm before allowing himself to fall into how tight and wet you are and reaching his peak himself. 
“y/n… I’m cumming…” 
Bakugo bites back a groan as his eyes close, lips almost breaking from how hard he’s clenching down. 
Continuing to pump, Bakugo’s hips lift as he thrusts into his fist one final time—his orgasm is so strong, it feels as though he’s losing control of his entire body, shaking as he feels his cum squirt and his cock pulsing from the base. 
When Bakugo finally gathers his energy, he opens his eyes, blinking uncomfortably at the harsh lights of the living room. There’s warm cum now cooling all over his hands and the coffee table in front of him, only adding to the list of things he has to clean up after your little home invasion. 
Sighing, Bakugo stands up, grabbing a tissue and wiping the traces of his release away. 
It’s a little humiliating.
Yet another day of having to imagine you writhing under him to get off. 
Bakugo won’t admit it— he never will— but honestly, it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.
But he knows the real thing will be better. 
Now, if only he could get his hands on you… 
a/n yeah so i rewrote this whole thing on 4 hours of sleep so its prob shit and the formatting is wonky but whatevs.
STAN ENHYPEN STREAM SWEET VENOM (ENG VER)
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juyeonszn · 7 months
Text
SWEET
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PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 4.61k
GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end
SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.
MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.
You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.
The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.
Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.
The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.
“Hi! I’m Y/N!”
He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.
The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.
You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?
You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”
All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”
“Y/N.”
After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.
“Get the fuck out.”
“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”
“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”
“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.
“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.
“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.
“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.
“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.
“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.
He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.
You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.
Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.
How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.
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“Was he cute?”
“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.
“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”
Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”
“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”
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The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.
Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—
The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.
“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”
His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”
You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.
“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.
“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.
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“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.
“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”
“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.
“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”
“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.
Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…
You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.
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You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)
Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.
But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.
He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.
Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.
As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.
But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.
You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”
“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”
Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.
The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.
“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”
You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.
“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.
“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.
You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.
“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.
“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.
Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?
Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.
The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.
“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.
He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.
It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.
You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”
The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.
You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.
As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?
“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”
“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”
“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.
“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.
“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.
It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.
He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.
But you were wrong, like always.
“Ah, shit—”
You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.
He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.
Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.
He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.
“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.
Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.
You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?
His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.
Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”
“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.
“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.
“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”
You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.
Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.
You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.
One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.
It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.
A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.
Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.
He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”
“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?
“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.
“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”
“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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halsteadlover · 8 months
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Night Struggles
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: your daughter has to sleep in her bassinet but Jay isn’t on the same page.
• Warnings: none.
• Word count: 785.
• A/N: so I had this in the draft for a while and decided to post it since I was craving some dad!Jay. I got this idea from a tiktok so here it is lol. I hope you’ll like it, let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog if you want ❤️ Thank you so much for your constant support, love you all xx
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“Babe! Where's Isabel?”.
You walked into your bedroom while your husband was lying in bed, pretending to be focused on his cell phone and not hearing you.
You stood in front of him, hands on hips and eyebrow raised as you waited for him to look at you.
“Huh? What did you say darling?” he asked dumbly, finally looking at you and flashing you one of the most charmed smiles he was capable of.
You crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard me, don't play dumb Halstead.”
“I don't know what you're talking about babe, Isabel should be in her bassinet,” he feigned a hint of concern. You pulled back the blanket that was partially covering his chest, revealing your little girl in his arms who wouldn't stop waving her little arms and giggling as soon as she saw you.
“Jay! She should sleep in her crib!” you scolded him and pointing your finger at him as you tried to hold back a smile at the sight of that wonderful scene. She was lying on his bare chest, her little head resting on his shoulder as he stroked her back.
“No she doesn’t!” he exclaimed with an almost offended expression as his arms spontaneously squeezed his baby, as if he was afraid you might take her away from him. “She wants to sleep here with her dada, don't you princess?” he asked her, however aware she wouldn’t be able to answer him. He lifted her into the air as she kept waving her arms and legs, giggling and screaming as she watched her father. “Oh yes she does. You always want to be with your dad, right? You're still too little to be alone. You’ll sleep with mama and dada.”
You chuckled as you let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he'd never give in. “But she has to start sleeping in her bassinet baby, or she’ll get too used being with us.”
“She has to sleep with us, she told me that and I can’t say no to this little pretty face. No, I can’t,” he replied using his baby voice, but always keeping his eyes on his daughter who was drooling as she had his little fingers in her mouth and babbled with her little voice. He pulled her closer to her and left kisses on her cheeks. “She won't go anywhere without me and she’ll sleep here tonight, from tomorrow she’ll stay in her bassinet I promise.”
You knew this would never happen but you didn't respond, instead sitting on the edge of the bed as you continued to watch Jay's love for his little girl with a huge smile on your face.
There was no doubt he was madly in love with her, from the moment she let out her first breath as a newborn. You had never seen him like that, so happy. Of course, he had always been sweet with you, so thoughtful, attentive in everything he did and everything that concerned you, but the way he looked at Isabel, God, that little girl had him wrapped around her little finger.
Jay would’ve never believed how such a tiny creature could turn his world upside down like that and yet there he was, his heart bursting with joy as he hugged his little girl.
“Come on baby, how can you say no to this face?” he asked, placing his face next to Isabel's and turning to you. You alternated your gaze between one and the other and still almost couldn't believe how much they looked alike. There would’ve been no need for a paternity test, you had birthed Jay's twin.
You sighed, unable to pretending being mad any longer. It really was impossible, not when the loves of your life looked at you like this. “I hate you Halstead,” you muttered.
He laughed and opened his free arm, as an invitation to join them. “Come here my love.”
You didn't make him repeat it twice and you lay down next to him, leaving a kiss on his lips and on Isabel's forehead who extended her little arms towards you, eager to be held by her mother.
“I love you two so damn much baby,” he whispered in your ear as he kissed your cheek, his hand caressing Isabel’s little head.
This was all you wanted, all you wished for. Your beautiful little family and, God, you couldn't be happier. You had a wonderful husband who loved you and his little girl with all his being, and a wonderful daughter, full of joy and life, and even though it was difficult sometimes and there were moments where you thought you couldn't do it, you wouldn't have it any another way.
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