#and so always thought dream was a little crazy for the whole thing

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

[simplepotatofarmer]

thanks to @justcallme-ange, i'm thinking about mermaid dream loving to inspect new things and making friends with some humans because there's rules in mermaid society, at least within his pod, so it never really occurs to him that others wouldn't give him the same courtesy.

so it's a surprise when this research vessel and the people on it capture him, steal him away from his home and pod and friends. imagine how shocking it would be for him when there's no story telling or trading of interesting trinkets but instead tests and pulling scales off and slicing into him to see how he works.

#loyal talks about stuff and things #dreblr #mermaid au #like to think that techno once had a run in that nearly killed him #and so always thought dream was a little crazy for the whole thing #maybe at some point dream became more isolated from his pod and friends #and so when it happens he really doesn't think anyone will come for him #he's just going to suffer and then be discarded when these people he trusted are done with him #anyway

[jeoncopi]

• — freedom overseas — •

GET INTO IT: feeling carefree each time he traveled shouldn’t be different for jungkook. as much as he wishes to feel like this back home, he can’t help but restrict himself at all times. - one thing about you working abroad and his schedules matching your timezones (better when it hits same destination), he could only wish and live for the best. ‘cause that’s exactly what he’ll get.

pairing: jungkook x reader.

word count: 3.4k

be aware of: graphic smut and unprotected sex (be always safe). reader can’t resist jk, car sex, jungkook smokes here so uhm.. y-yeah..

author’s note: since this is supposed to be a drabble (lol). hopefully my next work will end up being with more than 2k (lol) kisses and let me know what you think 😇. istg this story changed 2837 times hajaja

when you step outside the restaurant walking towards jungkook who’s smoking, footsteps froze at the sudden image.

he smokes? since.. when?

bewildered, you blink twice as your eyes carefully watch him take another hit of the small nicotine. this is definitely a whole new side of him you didn’t know about.. completely new, but it got you confused. you’re not crazy to remember him talking about his hate for cigarettes because of how much his dad used to do it back when he was little.. right? like that wasn’t a dream. you’re pretty sure he has expressed his disgust to you. almost agreeing with you.

sigh..

the more you look at him as you approach him feels like you can’t even get mad at him.

..why? well.. pinocchio wouldn’t be proud of you if you say he didn’t looked hot doing it.

ugh! what are these thoughts!

you definitely despise the smell of cigarettes! you even hate the sight of it, but why does he gives you quite the view? - you blame it on the way he carries himself with so much confidence yet— is so unbothered when he opens his mouth talking with your friends. his outfit too and how an all black combo always look so good on him.. but then, the simplest thing as him holding that tiny folded paper around his pointy and middle finger touching in between his soft and natural pink lips with a very boyish smile almost made you feel like having a lucid dream. why? because.. well, you were definely wet now.

what..? no!

yes, you are. you could feel it now. if only he could feel it through your panties..

mm.. no!!

mm.. yes!! you hated daydreaming fantasies with him like this but your body and mind could be very uncontrollable sometimes. feeling a single drop down your panties.. what can you do now? aren’t you supposed to hate this? you do! but why is your body reacting this way? it’s not wrong but it isn’t entirely right either considering you don’t like cigarettes.

deciding to ignore all the carnal thoughts running through your mind, you keep walking straight to him. as sticky and annoying as it feels.

“so.. is this your way of getting fresh air?” you start as soon as your friends started parting ways. tone rather calm compared to the troubled mindset you had a few seconds ago.

startling him, softly so. “ah.. ha. this.” he responds. eyes blinking on beat as soon as he grins. you watch carefully as his hand shakes the little tobacco rolled paper.

“yeah.. this.” shyly pointing at it, “how long has this being going on?” voice still calm, you didn’t put too much effort in questioning him. it’s his body at the end of the day and you know just how stubborn your boyfriend can get.

“mm..” smoke exhaling from his mouth and he’s mindfully careful when he does it tilting his head up for the smoke to follow that direction and not be even near close your entire face. “not long ago, actually. taehyung once brought this one vaper and i was curious by its smell each time he used it, so I bought one. strawberry ice cream, to be clear,” he laughed, you do too. “it was weird but I liked it.”

“hm..” slowly crossing your arms around your body you lean against his car in thought. not breaking eye contact even a second, jungkook could feel it. “what made you change your mind? m’not gonna lie. I’m surprised. I remember you once saying you hated it.”

and it’s like your gaze is looking for answers and jungkook can clearly see that. knows you too much. thinks it’s so cute too. the way your curiosity rises each time he takes another hit, he can trust your mind being full of unanswered questions for him. he knows what you mean as well as knowing how much you don’t like it either. but the fact that you aren’t mentioning none of it to him it just makes him look at you with nothing more but warm eyes. thinking he loves you too much.

“so do you.” he states by wanting to make that clear. so you know that he knows. so you know that he won’t and isn’t getting crazy about it, that he’s aware. but you could only understand that if he really explained why.

so that’s what he does.

“remember that day when I texted you about living one life?” you nod. “well, I decided to just give it a try. I want to try everything that I can when it comes to things that I want. be it temporally or not. during my whole life.. as long as I live, there’s probably not gonna be a second chance right?”

“right.”

“at least not in this body,” and he’s so soft spoken that when he shakes once more what’s left of the cigarette’s butt before taking his last hit, the sound of a familiar plastic sound resonates through your ears and that’s when you see him pull two tiny tabs of what seems to be gum off his pocket. and you can’t believe he just did that. suddenly the image you were seeing right now, not matching with his current actions. so you can’t help but give a small smile as soon as he handles one tab for you to take with his pretty big eyes.

he continues, “even though it damages my body a little, there’s a balance thing called in life. i’m not getting addicted and I don’t do it excessively-“

“I was worrying about that, actually..” you voice out, interrupting him. “you tend to get obsessive over things.”

it makes him smile, softly. “I know. but I won’t, I promise. you know my thing is drinking alcohol anyways.. even though that isn’t entirely good either..” making you laugh in unison as you lightly punch him.

“at least you’re aware.”

“hey!” he hugs you side ways. “candy isn’t so much good for your health either..” walking towards the side of his car so you can go.

“but i’m not obsessed.” you huff about it.

“could be. you do get a bit obsessive.” bopping your nose.

“stop!”

making him laugh, “okay.. hop on.”

“I hate you.”

“show me how much.” and.. he closes the door with the biggest playful smile.

oh.. no, not again.

and there you are, left with a big hysterical smile plastered on your lips as you try to breath in, breath out the sudden rush of your body. — come on! it’s not as if you weren’t fucking wet a few minutes ago as soon as you saw him do the things you hated the most.. right? ..you totally got this..

but who.. who were you lying to? it’s not like you could control your body when you haven’t seen him in weeks anyways..

yeah.. you were a mess.

still, you tried to play it cool. “are we heading back towards the hotel, right?” genuily asking.

he responds as soon as he closes his door. “yeah, why?” staring at you now. “wanna go somewhere else?” one palm touching your bare thigh when he asks.. you know there’s nothing wrong with it, and it should be normal at this point of your relationship too, but your hormones were getting the best of you so you just play it off, gently pulling his hand away as much as you didn’t wanted to. deep inside.

“not actually, was just asking.” it’s the truth, but jungkook only squinted his eyes before resting an arm on top of the handbrake, his face’s closer to yours. not enough for you to loose your sanity but close enough into getting a whiff of his rich cloudy scent. although, you can’t deny how fine he looked staring at you like that, his eyes always seemed to shine no matter the situation. only that this time around, everything you could sense from it was nothing more than desire flaming throughout his dark orbits.

“you know we can go wherever you want, right?” staying like that for a couple of seconds, all you can answer is a slight nervous “I know.” and jungkook can sense your sudden shyness. thinking is cute but this could only go one way or the other.. if you both play your cards right.

staring at you for a couple of seconds, jungkook’s piercing gaze switch between your lips along with your boobs and neck before getting ready to turn on the car.. making you exhale a little air after, as if you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“originally, I wanted to get back so I could brush my teeth or something to be honest.” talking about smoking. “I’m not much of a fan of the aftertaste,” he laughs. “but if you want to go somewhere else,” a hand slides through your thigh.. again. only this time, he squeezes it two times. “I’m down for it too.”

one hand on the steering wheel, another one on your thigh.. it’s moments like these when you question if he knows how effortlessly irresistible he is.. sure, it might be something simple. he’s not doing much either. is just that his side profile and the way his hair lingers in his face and overall the way he’s shaped and how you can literally see the bump of his chest pop for how much he works out mark through his shirt that it makes you want to trace his pectorals with your fingers forever makes you want to eat him and that’s it but.. uh, isn’t that the definition of being so stupidly effortlessly hot?

when you softly press both your legs together, his hand seems to scalate close to your inner thigh..

oh jungkook.. perhaps, are you having the same thoughts as me?

still, you try your best to ignore it. “ah.. so that’s why you have gum with you, isn’t it?”

“caught.” rising both hands up as played guilty.

and as you stare at him.. you notice once again, he looked fine. your legs squeeze and you slightly arch your back when your gaze is back on the street still trying to ignore the finest hottie beside you. - jungkook, on the other hand, just smiles to himself and starts driving. you can’t help but give little sneak peeks at the way he gently but confidently grasps the wheel with one hand.. as soon as the other one approaches your thigh once again.. - he always did this but you were uncontrollable tonight. can’t help but immediately give him those eyes as soon as he reaches your beloved red light.

you swore going back to the hotel wasn’t the main priority. you wanted him now. - so slowly tilting your head to the side, your voice is airy when “babe..”

“mmh?”

and that’s when he sees you. you don’t say a word but he already knows what’s that thing you’re craving the most, and that thing it’s him. he doesn’t speak either. just staring at you under the red light, his hand traces a path towards your slowly opening legs. when you bite your lips into a smirk, his fingers are already pushing your panties to the side. confirming his most prominent thought. you’re wet as fuck.

“were you waiting for this?” eyes gazing up and down your body, his voice is cheeky when he asks. biting down both of his lip rings. “fuck. just how long were you this turned on?” playing with your clit “and why didn’t you told me..” as your body twitches. “it makes me crazy..” whispering more to himself.

—

when you’re gripping the head of his seat increasing the pressure between your arms so you could balance your jumps more deeper and precisely above him, he feels like he could cum in any moment. controlling his breathing, he tries to concentrate in order not to but the way your breast bounce and how you manage to leave quick steamy kisses over his neck makes it so hard. mostly when he has this desire to kiss all over your chest and suck on your titties. but his hands are also gripping so hard at the side of the seat, he barely touches your legs and he feels like a teenager are over again.

the fuck is this coming from him not wanting to last? he blames it on the long time you haven’t seen each other. 3 weeks exactly without your kisses and physical touch.. when he remember fucking almost (if not) everyday when you stayed at his house or he stayed at yours. - there’s always this deep desire whenever you’re close to each other, jungkook doesn’t think it will ever go away and to be honest he doesn’t even want it to ever disappear. always thinking about if it’s you, then everything will be okay.

but as you’re both very into it, something similar like a flash, lights up a little the dark street jungkook managed to set you up. - you both ignore it at first but after two more times, you stop bouncing hard on him switching to slow circular movements that still makes jungkook bite his lips for how good you feel.

“don’t stop.” he’s confident, palming your ass.

“I think there’s someone watching us.”

“I’ve notice too.”

but you both end up stopping your movements regardless.

quickly looking around, the flashes has seemed to be gone but as you keep searching for someone, jungkook just stares at you only to caught your attention back by squeezing your ass two times. making your eyes meet as he mischievously smirks.

“I couldn’t care less from last time, you know it.” sensually kissing your lips. he’s provoking you all over again.. “let them have a show. it’s what they want.”

and you know he’s referring to that one time you both fucked on a balcony being overseas too. - paparazzis had caught you fucking and while you were worried about him getting bashed for it (for the blurry clips that spreaded back then), he ended up being so calm about it to the point of fighting with his company saying he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to fuck his girlfriend. - and while he understands the depth of why they asked him to be careful, he still thinks it’s just bullshit and that the people who love him for him, will just accept and be happy that he’s happy experiencing what every normal person does. so why everybody can be happy but him? he’s just the same human with needs and desires..

“but this isn’t-“

“stop worrying about me. I know you can’t help it, so let me just say there’s nothing wrong with us wanting to fuck.. I bet they’ve their own experience so why can’t we have ours?”

when you hold his face, you know what he means. knowing how hard it is for him to tell you to stop worrying about it since he once told you he couldn’t just tell that to you because it make him feel careless about your feelings, but you do really get him this time..

when it comes from his personality, a part of you loved that. love that he doesn’t care, love that he always chooses his happiness because at the end of the day he knows he might only have this one life. and even if he don’t, he still wants to enjoy it at his best and that’s why when he motions your hips to move by gripping the side of your waist, both of your bodies stick so close to each other that the image of him biting his lips as he contemplates your body makes you not want to regret this and so you don’t. realizing you’ll only have this from time to time.

“fuck this.” you moan to his ear when jungkook kisses are needy and steamy, confirming just how badly he wanted to try this.

talking about it it’s something but actually experience this feeling of sex in such a limited place (even when this car is very spacious) was really hot and adrenaline reaching. windows foggy and all, it almost feel like a movie. you believe that at this rate it’s even difficult to look at inside the car so if those strangers were really filming or whatever, they’re footage will be already ruined.

you smiled a little because of that. but it didn’t lasted long when you suddenly feel both of jungkook’s hands around your hips manhandling the way you were going to start bouncing on him.

“let them see if they’re so interested in me. I couldn’t care less.” he just doesn’t give a single fuck right now and that only makes you want him more.

see, whenever he’s on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ moment.. you believe that’s when he’s the most sexiest and dangerous. - maybe you were too into him but each time he showed this side of himself.. you can’t help but love it and be turned on for it at the same time.

—

while he treats you like his personal fucktoy, he does gives you times were you could move at you own pace. but the sounds and the way he touched you were making it hard for you so there’s nothing left when you say, “I- I want to cum.” with such a tiny desperate voice, it makes jungkook grin.

“do it.” voice tender compare with his hot-messy image. “mm, i’ll cum too if you do.” moaning afterwards.

and the good thing is that he really can make himself cum once you do. all he has to do is concentrate in the way your walls contracts into him as if they were gonna swallow, he loves it each time. say it feels too rich, too tight for him to handle. - so when you’re both done, after driving for a while, you don’t see more cars trying to follow you.

“gonna sleep so well tonight, i’m so fucking happyyy” he singsongs as soon as he lays in bed, pulling you into his chest for a hug. “no more nightmares,” he kisses your forehead. “my princess is here.”

smiling to himself, you feel so shy and loved at the same time. gently kissing his lips. “I can say the same.” lovey-dovey eyes looking at him.

he caresses your hair. ”my pretty little princess.”

you smile. “I hope you don’t go hard on yourself.” saying after knowing what’s coming if there really was someone witnessing what happened earlier.

“don’t worry.” softly smiling, “I told you I didn’t cared, didn’t I?” caressing one of your cheeks.

“hm. but still.”

it makes him look at you with warms eyes. “keep being cute. i’m grateful that you worry this much about me..”

“don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. it’s the truth.” pause. “I just love how caring you are because that means you really must love me..” tone serious.

“of course I do, silly!” you tease him, making him laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“let’s sleep now. we’ve so much things to do..”

“..and so much little time..” you follow.

“I know.” he sighs. “but we can make it.”

“we always do.” you proudly smile, he does too.

“I love us so much.” he says once again.

you laugh. “okay, let’s sleep sentimental boy.”

“you love me this way.”

“you know I do.”

and after teasing each other for a while, you both end up falling into your sleep for a brand new, busy and maybe more exciting day..

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabbles #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jk #bts #bts fics #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts smut #bts oneshot #jeoncopi

[angelltheninth]

Honkai Star Rail Men + Fake Marriage

Paring: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, confession, feelings realization, mission cover, jealousy, possessiveness, kissing, PDA, grinding, keeping quiet, pining, fake marriage

A/N: I'm gonna keep writing my favorite tropes until I run out of them.

Blade won't ever admit to really loving you, not even when he starts too. He will think of you as his, he will let everyone know of your marriage, but he will never say that he loves you. A fake marriage is good enough for him, he got someone by his side, real or fake it doesn't really matter, as long as you're the one who comes home to him every night and falls into his kiss, his arms and his bed.

Caelus catches feelings very early on in your marriage and tries to keep them a secret. He's pretty good at it at first, only doing the things expected but little by little he starts to kiss you when you're alone, to hold your hand as you sit on the couch, to let himself doze off after missions and dream about you. Its very hard to resist falling in love with. But should you? This was supposed to be temporary, when did this become so real, when did your kisses, your looks, your hugs turn into this wonderful exchange of feelings?

Dan Heng feels like a fake marriage is perfect to maintain his peaceful, or as peaceful as can be, life. You're friends so naturally he would ask you, and people have been saying you look like a couple anyway so hand holding and kissing in public wasn't that big of a leap. For the people around you. For you... it couldn't be worse. Pining over him was one thing, you could do that until you died, but having to pretend to be his wife was a whole other thing that you weren't ready for until that first morning where he bashfully greeted you with a kiss because that's what a good husband needs to do. Real or fake he will be the best husband you could ever have.

Gepard married you so he wouldn't need to marry someone he dislikes just to keep up appearances. You were a good choice, a childhood friend, a pretty woman, and a longtime mutual crush. Of course you were both clueless about that last part. It took a few months of awkwardness for you to settle into these new roles, for you to get used to being introduced as his wife. He seemed to take so much pride in that, always lighting up when he talked about you. It wasn't a lie, not a single word, which he admitted to only when you confronted him about his jealousy of other nobles acting too flirty towards you. The kiss that followed was unlike the chase ones you shared until now, full of promise, a real one this time, to be yours.

Jing Yuan thought it was a good way to make sure you don't get threatened by his many enemies. No one would lay a finger on his wife, no matter how crazy they were, they knew his wrath. He was very flirty towards you the whole time, calling you his wife every chance he got, enjoying how you'd blush when he'd kiss you in public and practically yell that you're his wife. You weren't though and that truth hurt. He could see it too. His second proposal came as a complete shock one heated night, when he couldn't hold back his lust any longer. You laughed, thinking he forgot about your arrangement. He didn't, he just wants you to be his in every way.

Luocha agrees because it would be an easy way to explain why you're traveling together and why you only need one room at every inn you go to. Its much less of a haste, a lot more of a heartache when you sleep in the same bed every night, sharing secrets and even fears and waking up entangled, having to remind yourselves that this is still fake. It was so easy until the kiss, until you climbed on top of him and moaned his name while you ground your hips against his. From then on it all became all too real.

Sampo marries you for a mission. That was really it, he needed a partner and it just so happened to be you. It was easy enough to make people think it was true, you knew each other for a while, you'd been partners before, this was... just another role to play. Right? So why did he hate it when you got flirty? It was for intel, for the mission. Yet he saw it fit to drag you away and kiss you breathless, scolding you for almost ruining their cover. What kind of a wife would flirt with others? For this to work you need to be only his. In that case he better make sure people know it, you taunt him, biting his neck, telling him to bite back if he dares. Oh he does, not just your neck either.

Welt doesn't look too much into the fake marriage. If anything its a good way to get his friends and teammates off his back for being old and alone. Now he can say he's happily married to the woman of his dreams. Well as happily as one can be when you're quietly really in love but can't say it without risking ruining what you have. Luckily for you he often gets home really late and tired, when his shields are low and his true feelings come out into the open, when he snuggles into your embrace and tells you how lucky of a guy he is that you said yes to someone like him, how he will make this real some day, just give him a little time.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x reader #caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr jing yuan #blade x you #caelus x you #dan heng x you #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #luocha x you #sampo x you #welt x you #hsr headcanon #hsr imagine #hsr fluff #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr blade x reader

[andvys]

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it E.M.

A continuation of I know places

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of bullying, Eddie calling reader slut (in a sexy way haha), Eddie eats reader out in public

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!cheerleader!reader

stranger things masterlist

-

The classroom is silent, everyone focused on their assignment, everyone except for Eddie who can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. There you are sitting on the other side of the classroom, playing with the pencil, you place it between your lips, the lips that have been wrapped around his cock just a few days back. 

Fuck. 

Eddie felt like it was nothing but a dream after you had left him standing there with a flushed face and gaping eyes. 

He is still in disbelief, did it really happen? Did you really get on your knees for him? Yes, you did. He stares at you in awe. You turn to look at him, a smirk appearing on your face as your eyes lock with his. 

Eddie smiles shyly. He wants nothing more than to return the favor but he hasn’t been brave enough to make a move on you. He considered starting a fight with Jason again just to get you to cheer him up again but then he decided against it. 

He can’t take his eyes off of you, he never could. He was always a little obsessed with you. You and your little cheer uniform, your glossy lips, the cute hairstyles and those innocent yet mischievous eyes of yours always drove him crazy. 

You were always a little intimidating to him and others. You were no bully but you were never afraid to speak your mind and fight back against bullies, he wouldn’t be surprised if those assholes made you a target as well but surprisingly they never did. 

The first time you had ever smiled at him, he felt like his heart was about to explode and the first time you spoke to him, he felt it flutter like crazy. Once he realized that you weren’t as intimidating as he thought, he began to make conversations with you, holding doors open for you, offering to carry your books to your next classes. He was happy to see your smile that was only directed at him, the cute little giggles that he got to hear whenever he told you one of his bad jokes. 

You were nice to him, not as nice as you were to others though. Maybe you had a soft spot for him, that made him feel special. 

Especially after what happened at the restroom. 

He can’t keep his eyes off of you, not during class, not during lunch at the cafeteria. He is crazy about you. 

You’re sitting with Nancy and Barb, giggling about something one of the girls had whispered to you. He licks his lips as he watches your skirt ride up, exposing more of your skin, leaning closer to your friends to tell them something before you get up. He straightens up, eyes following you as he watches you leaving the cafeteria. 

He almost jumps up instantly, discarding his lunch and ignoring his friends and their confused faces, he follows you out, rushing after you. The hallways are empty, he figures that you went into the restroom so he decides to wait for you but the moment he leans against the wall, he feels a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he finds you standing here with a smirk on your pretty face.

“Who are you waiting for, pretty boy?” 

The teasing look in your eyes tells him that you already know that he was waiting for you. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, you might not always turn to look at him but he knows that you know he is watching you, that’s why you teased him relentlessly the past few days. Bending down in front of him, giving him the perfect view of your ass, licking your lips whenever you would look at him, swirling your tongue around that stupid vanilla ice cream as you held the cone in your hand when he ran into you after leaving the record store at Starcourt mall. 

You are driving him crazy. 

Eddie is still shy around you but fuck, the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall and fuck you with his tongue is almost unbearable. 

He grabs your hand and pulls you into the girls restroom, if he can’t get you out of his mind, then you won’t get him out of yours either. 

He does what you did to him. He grabs your waist and slams you against the wall, pressing your body against the cold tiles. 

You gasp, eyes flashing with surprise. He places his hands against the wall behind you, caging you against it. His eyes are dark but his cheeks are flushed red. As much as he wants to appear all tough and scary, he is still sweet Eddie to you. 

“I can’t get you out of my fucking mind, sweetheart,” he whispers as his eyes flicker down to your lips, he wants to kiss you, he wants it so bad but you didn’t kiss him the last time, clearly not wanting it… yet. 

You smirk at his words, the smell of his cologne, aftershave and a hint of smoke makes your skin tingle. You bring your hands up, placing them on his arms, the leather of his jacket smooth against your skin. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock again, Eddie?” You smirk. 

His eyes flash with hunger. 

“Or do you want something else?” You ask as you bat your eyelashes at him. You reach for his hands, your fingertips brush against his cold rings, for just a moment, you intertwine your fingers with his, causing both yours and his heart to flutter. 

His hands are rough, calloused, big. 

Yours are soft and small, fitting perfectly into his. 

You look into each other’s eyes, he blinks and so do you, surprised at the nice feelings in your chests from such an innocent touch. 

There’s something in the air, the energy surrounding you both is filled with tension, a nice one. It pulls you into each other. You break eye contact, looking down for a second before you look up at him again, pulling his hands towards you, you place them on your chest. 

His eyes widen, almost bulging out of his skull as he looks down. 

“What do you want, Eddie?” You smirk, “do you want to fuck my face? Or do you want my pussy this time?” 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers, his blood rushes down to his dick, this is not what he wanted. He wanted to get back at you, leave you speechless the way you left him. 

You place your palm on his chest and slide it down his body, your eyes are filled with longing, just like his. Before you can even come close to his belt, he grabs your hand and slams it against the wall behind you.

“What’s wrong?” You giggle as you eye the frustrated look on his face, ignoring the way his action made you feel. 

He licks his lips and leans closer, tilting your chin up, he keeps eye contact with you as he comes closer and closer, pressing his body against yours, “you’re a bad girl, you know that right?” 

Your lips curl into a smile, raising your brows at him, “no, I’m a good girl.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, “no, you’re not.” 

He latches his lips onto your neck and for the first time, you feel what it’s like to be kissed by Eddie Munson. His plump lips are soft against your skin, kissing you so perfectly. What starts off with soft kisses quickly turns into messy ones as he starts sucking and biting your skin. 

“E-Eddie,” you whimper. You can feel him smirking against your skin. Letting go of your hand, he grabs your waist instead, he grabs you tightly, squeezing your hip as he slides it down to your ass, grabbing it with his large hand. 

You place your hand on his shoulder, eyes fluttering close as a moan falls from your lips. 

“You smell so good,” he whispers against your neck as he continues to kiss you, “and you sound so fucking pretty.” 

He slides his hand under your skirt, touching your bare skin, a groan leaves his lips when he feels the soft lace against his hand, “where are those tight shorts you usually wear?” 

“Left them at home,” you grin as your eyes lock with his again when he moves back to look at you, “I knew you’d do this at some point.” 

He raises his brows, smirking, “oh, so you planned this all along, huh?” 

You bite your lip, nodding at his words, you reach for the necklace around his pale neck, using it to pull him closer, “been waiting for you to make a move,” you whisper, eyes falling on his plump lips, “but you’re such a shy and innocent boy, Eddie.” 

His eyes darken and his brows draw together, “innocent?” He scoffs. 

“Mhmm, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? That was your first blow job wasn’t it?” 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

Jealousy flashes in your eyes, it’s hard to miss, Eddie knows what it’s like to feel jealous. He has felt that way, too many times. Watching you run around with those cute little skirts and your cheer uniform, getting attention from all the guys here. He can see the way they look at you, he can see the way they try to charm you, trying to flex with their daddy’s money but you aren’t interested, you never are. You don’t even give them the time of the day, walking past them without sparing a glance, the only one that seems to get your attention is Steve Harrington but you don’t seem to like him very much, all you ever do is bicker around with the King. 

Still, it makes him jealous that he is getting any attention in the first place, even if it’s the bad kind. 

“But it was the best one,” Eddie smirks, trying to make you feel better, “no one’s ever made me feel so good, sweetheart.” He says as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, “I wanna make you feel good too.” 

Your stomach flutters and you feel yourself getting wet at his words. He can see the desire in your eyes, he can feel the way you press yourself harder against him, a whine leaving your lips when he presses his fingers against your soaked panties. 

“Show me what you got then, Munson.” 

It’s cute how you try to appear tough and arrogant when you are literally about to start grinding yourself against his hand, desperately. 

The door opens and your eyes widen, before anyone can see you, Eddie grabs your hand and pushes you into the last stall, shutting and locking the door before he presses you against the wall. It’s a deja vu moment, really. Just a few days back you did that to him, now he has you caged against the wall, putting his hand over your mouth and giving you a sly smirk. 

Your eyes widen even further when you hear your friends' voices. 

“Can you be quiet for me?” Eddie whispers as he looks into your big eyes. 

You nod your head. 

“Good girl.” 

You suppress the whimper that almost sounded through the restroom. 

Eddie pushes your soaked panties to the side, slipping his fingers through your wet folds, he almost lets out a moan himself. He brings his soaked digits to your clit, rubbing circles on it. 

You furrow your brows and bite your bottom lip beneath his hand. His fingers feel so good. 

You swallow harshly, you look into his dark eyes, admiring the way he looks at you, the way he is so much taller than you, the way he stares at you in awe as he slips his fingers into your wet pussy. He kept his rings on. 

You can both hear Nancy and Barb talking but neither of you care, not even when they mention your name as they wonder where you had run off to. You can hear the water running, Nancy rummaging through her small makeup bag, probably to freshen up the light pink lipstick she always wears. 

“You’re so tight for me, baby,” he whispers into your ear as he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck, “you’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” 

The softest and smallest whimper escapes your mouth, just in time after your friends have finally left. 

“E-Eddie,” you whimper when he finally pulls his hand away from your mouth. 

He pulls his fingers out and slams them back into you, stretching you open as he fucks you with his rings clad fingers. 

“Yes baby?” 

“F-Feels so good, please don’t stop.” 

God, the things he would do to get you like this forever. Your moans drive him crazy, making his dick hard in his pants. 

“What would your friends think, hmm?” He whispers as he brushes your hair back with his free hand, caressing your cheek and putting his thumb on your bottom lip, freeing it from your teeth. 

“What would the cheer squad think or all the boys that want you? What would they say if they saw you getting fingered by the town freak?” 

Your eyes flash with anger but you can’t stop the moans from falling. 

“Y-You’re not a freak. You’re just Eddie.” 

He would be lying if he said that your words don’t warm his heart but his expression doesn’t falter. Do you really think so? 

“You’re my Eddie.” 

Well, fuck. You are making it so easy for him to fall to his knees for you, quite literally. 

Your eyes widen when you look down at him, his big brown eyes look up at you with both mischief and adoration. He slips your panties down your legs and you shudder, swallowing nervously. 

You step out of them, Eddie reaches for the pink lace, grinning at you, “I’m keeping these,” he says before he stuffs them into his back pocket. 

You can’t even help but giggle, a sound that is enough to give him heart palpitations. 

He kisses your knees and your thighs, sweetly. You bite your bottom lip again, staring down at him with lust in your eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful, fuck,” he murmurs. Pushing your skirt up, he groans as he begins to rub your clit again, “so fucking wet.” 

“All for you.” 

“All for me?” He grins as he presses a kiss to your clit, causing you to gasp in surprise. 

You nod your head quickly, desperately. 

 He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly as his licks a strip up your pussy. 

“Oh my god…” 

“Not god, just Eddie.”

“Same thing,” you say, giggling at the surprised expression on his face. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me, sweetheart,” he says before he finally buries his face in your cunt. You instantly push your hand into his hair and pull at it, making him moan against you. 

“Eddie… Eddie…” 

He smirks, you can feel it. 

He fucks you on his tongue, his hand hold you tightly, gripping your ass cheeks in a way that you know will leave marks. 

“I knew you would taste fucking sweet,” he moans.

He thought about this? He thought about doing this to you?

You never felt anything like this, his tongue feels just as perfect as his fingers, you wonder what it would feel like to feel his cock inside of you. 

He looks up at you as he eats you out, he moans and groans so perfectly, it just makes you want him more and more. He grabs your leg and puts it over his shoulder as he dives his tongue in deeper. 

“Y-You’re so good, fuck,” you moan as you shut your eyes for a moment. 

Your face grows hot, your skin feels like it’s on fire, your knees grow weak and your body begs for relief. 

He eats you out so messily and desperately, switching between fingering your cunt and eating you out as his thumb rubs circles on your sensitive clit. He moans against you, loving your taste. 

“Say you’re mine,” he demands as he pulls away from you for a moment. His chin glistens, all the warm brown color in his eyes is gone, replaced by pure darkness. 

“I’m yours, Eddie please don’t stop,” you whine as you try to push his head against you again. It only makes him chuckle darkly. 

“You’re such a whiny little slut,” he says, “are you like that for others?” 

You shake your head wildly, tears well up in your eyes, you were so close before he pulled away. 

“Are you like that for Harrington? You hate that guy, don’t you? Bet you fuck him too, huh?” 

“No!” You say angrily, you would never. 

He chuckles, “no?” 

“No, I only want you,” you whine, “please.” 

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he goes back to it, eating you out with just as much intensity as before. 

Your back arches in pleasure as he flicks his tongue inside of you. 

His name falls from your lips so effortlessly. It makes his heart race. 

It doesn’t take long for him to make you come undone. You grip his hair tighter and screw your eyes shut as you cum on his tongue. You feel your tears running down your face, your legs are shaking, knees almost buckling. 

Eddie kisses your thighs before he puts your skirt back in place, getting up, he places his hands on your waist, smirking as he watches you trying to catch your breath. For a moment, he allows himself to admire you. 

He loves to see you like this. 

He leans in, raising his hand up to your face, he grabs your chin as his wipes your tears away. 

You open your eyes to look at him. His lips are puffy, so kissable. 

“You good, princess?” He chuckles as he leans in to kiss your cheek. 

“Mhmmm.” 

You stare at each other, the urge to kiss each other growing stronger and stronger. He is so pretty. 

“Can I have my panties back?” 

He laughs, shaking his head, “nah, they’re mine now.” 

“You want me to walk around without panties on?” 

“You’re supposed to wear shorts under that skirt, y/n,” he grins, eyes flashing with amusement. 

“Spanks,” you frown. 

You gasp when he spanks your ass, eyes widening, “Eddie!” You slap his chest. 

He laughs again, grabbing your hand and holding it against his chest, “what? You said spanks, I thought you wanted them.” 

“The shorts, they’re called spanks, dumbass.” 

He snorts, “oh… don’t act like you didn’t like it,” he whispers as he places another kiss to your cheek, “maybe I should take you back to my van, spank you some more while I make you ride my dick.” 

You gasp again, eyes flashing with lust. 

“Do it.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, excitedly. 

You nod, “take me to your van, Eddie.” 

His smile grows bigger, “fuck yeah,” he says as though he has been waiting for this all his life, “I’m gonna rock your world, princess.” 

“You’re such a dork.” 

As you feel him intertwining his fingers with yours, you can't help but hope for him to never let it go, not knowing that he is hoping the same thing, hoping that you will never drop his hand.

-

tagging friends <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @bimbobaggins69

#eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut

[lihhelsing]

Part 2

Unknown number: Hey

Steve is sitting on the couch, he has Top Gun playing in the background just because he wanted some noise. The house feels empty whenever Robin has a different shift than him.

The message comes from an unknown number and he just watches as the three dots appear. It’s probably someone trying to sell him something but he’s so bored all he can do is watch. 

When the message finally comes through, Steve feels his stomach dropping in surprise, a small rush coursing through him. 

Unknown Number: It’s Eddie. The guy who was rude to you for no good reason? You know, the one who thought you were being an asshole just to embarrass himself in front of the hottest guy he had ever seen? 

Unknown Number: God, I sound dumb. You probably don’t remember me but it’s Eddie. 

Steve remembers. Of course he does.

Unknown Number: Anyway. I’m making it worse, aren’t I? I just wanted to apologize. I can delete your number after this, but I felt like I owed you. You didn’t do anything wrong and I was a bitch. Sorry. I’ll leave you alone now. 

Steve doesn’t want to be left alone. Without thinking he dials the number. Feels like messages aren’t the best way to handle the situation. 

“Hi,” Eddie says a little out of breath after the third ring.

“Hey,” Steve says back. There’s a smile threatening to bloom on his face because Eddie sounds flustered and Steve kind of loves it. “Sorry I called.” 

“Sorry I messaged,” Eddie says back and Steve chuckles. 

“I’m glad you did,” he says and he swears Eddie’s breath hitches. 

“I’m glad you did, too.” 

Steve had been debating whether or not to message Eddie. He’d told the story to Robin and she laughed at his expense as usual, but then she shrugged and said Steve should let it go. It wasn’t his fault the guy got played and Steve shouldn’t feel guilty. 

He didn’t. He just really couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. 

After a beat where neither of them says anything, Steve decides to tackle the elephant in the room.

"So, uh, I'm really sorry about the whole catfish thing. I don't know why someone would be this mean."

Eddie hums on the other side of the line and Steve thinks this is it, maybe he'll offer him an excuse and hang up and actually delete his number, but Eddie surprises him. 

"It's ok, you know. I should've suspected it, honestly. There's no way someone as hot as you would be interested in someone like me."

"You keep saying that and yet I remember giving you my number anyway," Steve says playfully. 

"Yeah, 'cause you were feeling sorry for me." Eddie says back and Steve actually scoffs. 

"Well, no. I actually thought you were pretty cute," Steve shrugs even though Eddie can't see him. He's never that forthcoming but there's something about Eddie that keeps pulling him in and he just wants to see where this is going. 

"Pretty cute, huh? I'll take it."

"I can tell you what else I thought when I first saw you over… Dinner?"

Eddie's laugh fills Steve's ear and it's a glorious sound. 

"You want to take me to dinner?"

"Yeah, of course. If, you know, it's not too weird. I know I'm not the person you thought you were talking to but maybe I can be cool too."

Eddie hums again and Steve thinks he's probably debating if it is too weird. He's also oddly curious about the whole thing but he has no idea if Eddie would want to talk about it. 

"Yeah, ok. We can do dinner."

Maybe he's going to find out. 

X

Steve has always been good at first dates, but this thing with Eddie doesn't really feel like a first date. 

After their awkward first call and Steve asking Eddie out on a date they just started texting. A lot. Because of Steve's crazy shifts at the coffee shop and Eddie's weird hours at the bar he worked on was kind of hard to find a time for their date, but it was like neither of them was in any rush for that. 

Steve discovered he was a little obsessed with finding out things about Eddie. Like how he always dreamed about becoming a rockstar but actually loved his job at the bar and creating different drinks and just getting to meet different people all the time. He also told Steve about his uncle, who he loved with all his heart, and how his dad had disappeared from his life right after his mother died. 

Talking to Eddie was easy in a way Steve had never known with anyone else and he really enjoyed it. He particularly liked the little night time routine they created. Steve would call Eddie whenever he got home, knowing Eddie was just getting ready to go to work, and they would talk, sometimes until Steve was fast asleep in his bed and Eddie was driving to the bar. 

But after a month, Steve is itching to see him. Even if it's just so the two could talk in person, he kind of wants to look at Eddie and take notes on all the little things about him like he'd done so many times with every picture Eddie had sent his way. 

So he calls Eddie and tells him Robin finally agreed to switch shifts with him next friday so they can go out. 

Steve leaves out the part where he had to promise to do her chores at the house for a month and had to make up some story about needing to see a doctor. She hadn't been budging whenever he said he wanted to go out on a date with Eddie because she kept telling him she couldn't miss her classes just because Steve wanted to get laid so, yeah, a little lie wouldn't hurt. 

"So, Friday. It's a date?" Steve asks a little nervously on the phone. He's already showered and is laying in bed with his hair dripping wet. Too excited to talk to Eddie to bother blowing out his hair. 

Eddie hesitates. Steve hears in the way his reply takes a minute to come. In a second he second guesses everything. Maybe Eddie had been talking to him just to realize Steve really wasn't the person he thought he was talking to. Maybe Eddie-

"Steve?" Eddie asks on the phone and Steve gets brought back to reality. "Sorry. Don't overthink this…"

Too late, Steve thinks. He says, "so it's a no on the date?"

"What?"

"You don't want to go on a date with me," he doesn't ask now. "It's fine, Eddie. It was worth a shot and it's fine if you realized you didn't-"

"Oh my god, will you shut up? Of course I want to go on a date with you. It's just… You know, I'm weird and messy and I talk too much and you're… You know. You."

"I'm… Nothing special."

"Now, you and I both know that's not true. I mean, you're hot. I won't lie, I started talking to you because I had never had a guy that hot talking to me and wanting something with me. But now I see you're so much more than that. I just… I don't want to disappoint you. What if you don't like me in person because I'm awkward and too skinny and talk too loudly and dress weird and-"

"Now you are overthinking this. I gave you my number and I asked you out on multiple occasions and I just… Really like talking to you. I would very much like talking to you in person over dinner. And then maybe inviting you over to my place so we could keep on talking, maybe. We could, uh… You know, fall asleep on the same bed for once."

Wow. Steve has no idea where all of that came from but he realizes he means it. 

Eddie's voice comes out a little strangled when he speaks, "Just sleep?"

Steve coughs, feels himself blushing. What is up with all that? Why is he suddenly acting like a high schooler? 

"So is that a yes on the date?"

"Yes, Steve. That's a yes on the date."

Previous | Next

#steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Coffee Shop AU #AU #Alternate Universe #Stranger Things #Fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic #Part 2

[wttcsms]

DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS WITH HIGURUMA PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (and maybe some nsfw if you're up to it?)

a rendering of regret, hiromi higuruma ;

pairing hiromi higuruma x f!reader word count 4.1k synopsis like everyone else who suffers from early onset midlife crisis syndrome, hiromi discovers two important things: he wishes he could fix things between you two and YOLO. like any other man with nothing to lose, he finds himself leaving the city and going back to his hometown, ready to be back in your good graces. content contains drinking, small town that sucks the life out of you but is home as the setting, being disappointed that growing up does not, in fact, solve all your problems, hiromi's mother is heavily implied to have committed su*cide, smut (riding hiromi, creampie, drunk sex)

Returning back to his hometown shouldn’t be as shameful of an ordeal as he makes it out to be, but the thing is, when you make a big show out of outgrowing small-town life, only to come back when it turns out the Real World sucks the soul out of you, it all becomes startlingly clear that you were never supposed to make it out in the first place. Becoming a hotshot attorney in Tokyo quickly disillusions any and all grandeur of being special and adulthood for Hiromi Higuruma, resident prodigy. 

It turns out that city living is even worse than a quaint little town because, while there’s really nothing to do back home, there is entirely too much going on in Tokyo. The subway is always crowded and reeks of B.O., cheap perfume, overpowering cologne, and crushed dreams. There is never not a case that needs his immediate attention. With so many people existing all in the same place, at the same time, it somehow becomes increasingly harder to form real, human connections. 

He knows that his mental break was long overdue, and honestly, he’s just shocked that his snapping hadn’t occurred sooner. Innocent people get tried for crimes on a daily basis; he knows this. He goes into this job knowing this, and witnesses it firsthand. It shouldn’t hit him so hard, but you told him, once upon a time, that at his core, he’s a good person. Hiromi Higuruma doesn’t think that a good person would punch both the prosecutor and the judge, but it certainly made him feel good. 

The justice system is a sham, and growing up sucks. Hiromi thinks that for someone who popped out his mother’s womb a full-blown genius, he was a bit slow on the uptake when it came to realizing these two monumental truths. He decides not to waste any more time on trying to tackle the world’s problems on how he used to do, which is rationally and with a clear-head. Lately, Hiromi’s just been letting the intrusive thoughts win more often than not. He’s certainly not punching judges in the courtroom, but he tests out new experiences when he’s feeling particularly adventurous.

Adulthood is all about being able to take a bath in your suit and tie, and no one can give you shit about it besides yourself. There are absolutely no consequences to doing this, and Hiromi thinks people should advertise adulthood as getting to do batshit crazy things to yourself without fear of a scolding. That is much more realistic and sounds much more promising than bullshit like you’re going to change the world. The world sucks. Everybody sucks. Tokyo sucks. His hometown sucks. He sucks.

Perhaps the only good thing to come out of this life is you. You, Hiromi thinks, are the only person in the world who he can never look at differently. 

Hiromi realizes too late that when you spend your whole life running from something, it eventually catches up to you, and it usually does whenever you’re out of breath and decidedly not prepared for life and past regrets to start pummeling you into the gravel. Hiromi has spent literal years avoiding any trace of you, and now he’s back home, probably worse off than he was when he originally decided to ditch this place, and his biggest past regret is standing in the staff lounge, making coffee from the communal coffee machine.

A shame, really. It’s almost embarrassing to be a grown man who gets literal heart eyes whenever he sees you. It’s doubly embarrassing whenever he realizes it’s been a decade since he’s last seen you, and that somehow, you still manage to make his heart get all hyperactive on him. 

“Hi, stranger,” you say, pretending like the fucking ghost of Christmas Past isn’t standing in the staff lounge of the community college you work at. 

“Hi,” he says, because for all his booksmarts, he can’t seem to come up with anything better. When he first skipped town, not even bothering to walk the stage for graduation, there had been a lot left unsaid between the two of you. Bringing up the past now, dredging up buried memories, seems like a bad idea. 

“You must be the new law instructor.” 

“Yes.” Apparently, as eloquent as he can be when it comes to defending his clients, he sure as shit is awful when it comes to saying the right thing to you. Then again, there are no instruction manuals to reference when it comes to facing your ex-girlfriend from high school who you never actually properly broken up with, just ghosted. 

You stare at him, study him for just a second. Take in his tired appearance. The circles under his eyes. An apathetic expression you aren’t quite used to. Strands of hair still stick up a bit in the back of his head and a few more hang in his face — that, at least, is one thing that hasn’t changed. 

“Good for you.” You tell him, and you leave it at that.

Hiromi Higuruma returning back to this shithole is certainly not on your bingo card on situations you thought would occur this year. Growing up, you were convinced more than anybody that Hiromi didn’t belong here. Not because of his appearance or the fact that his household was infamous for being a loveless, lifeless shell of a home and family, but because if anybody was destined for bigger and better things in life, it certainly would be Hiromi. 

He’s always been smart, to the point where the teachers would practically give him free rein to do whatever he wanted to during class because he already studied the material beforehand. Usually, he just spent this time helping you with your assignments. You remember making a comment to him in high school one time. 

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?” You poke the book he’s ignoring in favor of helping you edit your essay for English Lit. 

“No,” he says, eyes glued to your paper. He’s erasing something. 

“Sure I am. You could be doing anything else besides editing my paper.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He’s rewriting a sentence for you. “There’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” 

“You should stop helping me, Higuruma.” 

He finally looks up from the paper. “What?”

“You should stop helping me.” You yank back your essay, unceremoniously shoving it into your bookbag. “It’s bad for me in the long run.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll just keep on depending on you, and then what am I gonna do when you leave?” 

You mention this hypothetical as if it’s a fact. As if he is one hundred percent going to ditch this town and everybody in it. At the time you’re saying this, he doesn’t even know he’s going to leave yet.

“What makes you think I’m leaving?”

“You’ll die if you stay here.” Looking back, it’s comical how teenagers have a bad habit of voicing assumptions and then presenting them as fact. Hiromi Higuruma is the type of guy who cares so damn much about people and the state of the world, no matter where he goes, death’s going to follow. Caring is killer. 

“Even if I do leave, I’d want you to come with me.” He doesn’t know why he says this, but he knows that it’s the truth. If you want to stay here, that’s the only reason he needs to stay. If you want to go, he’ll have his bags packed. 

You search his eyes, looking for a possibility that he’s just saying stuff to appease you. Apparently, you find the sincerity you’re looking for because you give him a bright smile, hands already digging in your bookbag in search of your now-crumbled up essay. 

“Pinky promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” 

He seals the deal by interlocking his pinky with yours. This is a sacred act. You made it a strict rule in your friendship, and Hiromi is a stickler for rules. You can’t break a pinky promise; it’s the type of vow that transcends legality. To break a pinky promise would be to break off your friendship, make it null and void. So, when the time to walk the stage and receive your diploma in front of the town comes, you’re confused as to why Hiromi isn’t there. He’s not home, either. 

Hiromi left, his dad tells you. He looks like Hiromi, but since that’s his father, it’s the other way around. The only difference, besides the fact that he is a grown-up, is that Mr. Higuruma has what you call dead eyes. Lifeless. Like, he’s looking, but he’s not really seeing what’s there. He talks funny, too. All flat and emotionless, like he’s perpetually unbothered. You can’t even tell how he feels about his son’s departure, or the fact that there’s a teenage girl on his doorstep at seven in the evening, still wearing your cap and gown. 

“Do you know where to?” You ask Mr. Higuruma, still hopeful, still feeling the ghost of his pinky twisted around yours.

“Tokyo.” 

That checks out. You always knew Hiromi was meant for something more. 

“I’m shocked he’s not put behind bars,” Yuki tells you, wiping down the bar counter. “Didn’t you hear what went down in the courtroom with him and that judge?”

It had made the news. You normally don’t care to tune in, but it was something that concerned Hiromi. Of course you heard all about it. 

“I just don’t know what he’s doing back here.” 

“This place is a dump. ‘Course someone down on their luck is gonna come slinking back in here.” 

“Yuki…” You look at your best friend. “Didn’t you technically come back, too?”

“Well I never said I wasn’t down on my luck, now did I?” You can’t imagine someone like Yuki having to come back home with her tail tucked in between her legs. Yuki is the opposite of a loser; while the world beats people to a pulp, Yuki curbstomps the world. If Tokyo managed to send Yuki and Hiromi packing their bags, you don’t want to leave your hometown. Ever.

You meet Hiromi in grade school. Your town is too small to actually have its own public school, and so all the kids from home walk the two miles to the designated bus stop where this ugly, wretched faded yellow deathtrap on wheels comes squeaking and squealing to pick you up and take you all to the nearest city’s school.

Everyone knows that you all are the students from the rinky-dink town that’s such a shithole that it can’t even produce its own school. Finding work in that town is hard enough as it is, but you grow up used to being surrounded by your other financial equals. It’s hard to find your footing amongst a crowd of kids who get new shoes every school year and can afford the fancy crayons. You know, the ones that aren’t just glorified lumps of colored wax that would probably work better as candles instead of cheap art supplies. 

Hiromi gets most of the city students’ attention, though. It’s not as if it’s a surprise to you that they like to pick on him for his nose — it’s like the joke’s practically staring them right in the face. 

You are surprised, though, that he takes it so hard. He’s sitting alone at the front of the bus, staring out the window, and you think you catch a tear running down his cheek. 

You know that Hiromi is always early to a fault; he waits outside for the bus a good thirty minutes before it’s even scheduled to show up, just to ensure that he won’t miss it. You have to get up extra early as a result because you think it would be better to try to make friends with Hiromi without an audience. 

Before you can lose all confidence in yourself, you go for it. You take one grubby little hand of yours and swipe awfully close to his face, nearly hitting his nose in the process.

“Got your nose!” You wave your hand in the air, smile slowly falling when you realize that he doesn’t look amused. “Sorry. I was trying to help.”

“How was that supposed to help?” He doesn’t sound mean when he says it. He sounds curious, like he’s genuinely trying to hear you out. You will soon learn that that is the type of person Hiromi is. He might be the only person in the world who doesn’t judge someone within the first five seconds of meeting them. 

“Y’know, so when the other kids in school make fun of your nose, you know they’re lying.”

“How would they be lying?” 

“‘Cause I got your nose. How are they making fun of something they can’t see?”

Logically, young Hiromi knows that this is not the case. His big, fat nose is still smack dab in the center of his face, and the “nose” you captured is just your tiny thumb tucked under your fingers. Logical thinking is no fun, though, so Hiromi goes with it, and the two of you have been inseparable ever since.

Hiromi Higuruma has a lot of regrets, actually. In his mental tier list, the bottom of the barrel shit is made up of petty things, like not punching his grade school bullies in the face for being little assholes, or not trying Kitakata ramen when he had the chance. Then, there’s the stuff just a level above, which is less-silly things, like how he regrets the way he handled certain cases and the fact that in his haste to return home, he didn’t pack a pair of comfortable house slippers, and the ones he bought at the only convenience store in town feel too stiff. 

At the very top, his biggest regrets are all centered around you. This isn’t to say that he regrets you, but he does know that his treatment of you haunts him during the nights he lies awake in bed and wonders why the fuck life sucks so hard. He hates that he didn’t admit to you that he liked you sooner, that he wasted so many of his high school days awkwardly trying to hide the fact that he’s hopelessly devoted to you. He hates that he didn’t get a chance to take you to prom. He hates that he didn’t tell you that he was leaving, that he didn’t think to bring you with him, that he never called or texted after he left because he was too embarrassed and scared at the prospect of you not wanting to hear from him after how he left without a trace. He regrets not telling you why he left, that he caught his father and his mistress together, and how disgusted he felt at seeing such a sight. That the next day, he vowed to tell his mother, only to knock on her bedroom door (it’s no surprise that his parents never shared the same bed for as long as Hiromi could remember), and when she didn’t answer, he opened the door, only to be greeted by her still body in bed, three empty orange pill bottles on the nightstand. 

He couldn’t have stayed, and he was rendered speechless. Final transcripts had already been released, and walking for graduation was optional. Hiromi took whatever meager savings he had, clicked “accept” for his college admission to Tokyo U (full-ride, because if anyone was going to get a scholarship based on academic merit, it would be Hiromi), and skipped town. Everything in the world to him appeared to be in shades of black and white, the occasional bright orange catching his eye, haunting him, taunting him. 

Life is too short, though. Too short to waste time in bed, in an apartment he hates located in a city he despises, to look back at all his shortcomings. If he could go back in time and do things differently, he would. He wouldn’t have punched that judge or the prosecutor (even if they totally did deserve it), and he wouldn’t have kept his acceptance into Tokyo U a secret from you. He would have taken you to prom, and he would’ve asked you to come with him to Tokyo, escape this dump of a town and take on the big city together. He thinks he probably would have hated Tokyo less if you were with him, you and your nonsensical logic that makes the worst things to ever happen to him suddenly seem bearable. 

He should tell you all of this, but he’s drunk because Yuki is manning the bar, and she pours with a heavy hand. He never really spoke to the blonde despite the fact that they grew up down the street from each other, attended school at the exact same time, same grade, same everything. The downside of living here, it seems, is that everyone you’ve ever known is entirely unavoidable. You run into them everywhere. You want to drown your sorrows in amber liquid served in questionable, grimy glassware, and the person aiding in your slow death is the very girl who used to wake you up in the middle of the night due to the sound of her revving up her obnoxiously loud and ancient (she claims vintage) motorcycle that she bought for cheap at a junkyard. 

The upside of living here, it seems, is that since everyone is unavoidable, you are running into him here. 

You take a seat to his left, conveniently leaving one barstool between the two of you. Yuki is joking around with you, saying something that makes you laugh, and the urge to do something very stupid builds up in Hiromi. He’s been totally chill with the whole “letting the intrusive thoughts win” routine, but he wants to handle his relationship with you with a delicate hand.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks you, hoping that his words don’t come out slurred. 

“I’d normally say yes, but Yuki gives me my drinks on the house.” 

Yuki yanks back the drink she made you. “If Ace Attorney over here wants to pay for your drink, you’re getting charged, hon. Sorry. Girl’s gotta make a living.” 

Conversation with Hiromi comes naturally to you. Everything you do with Hiromi comes naturally. The alcohol helps warm you right back up to him, dormant feelings now coming back to life. You think you’re too old to have butterflies in your tummy when you make tequila-induced attempts at flirting with him (at least, you think you’re flirting; it’s been a while since you actually tried). You think that you definitely don’t give a shit whenever he plays along, because that’s just what he does, what he always has been doing. 

When he left, everyone in town was under the impression that Hiromi had been stringing you along. The fact of the matter is, you have Hiromi wrapped around your finger to the point where he doesn’t think he could ever get unstuck. 

Everything you do with Hiromi comes naturally, and it’s only natural to have him walk you back to your apartment. It’s only natural that you invite him inside to “catch up” some more, and it’s only natural that “catching up” involves you grinding on his lap, sinking his body deeper into the pink loveseat in your living room. 

Your dress is tugged up to your waist because easy access means you don’t have to get naked to get dicked down. Hiromi’s suit pants are admittedly not made for quick fucks, but if there’s a will, there’s a way. His pants are unzipped, briefs adjusted enough so that his dick can unceremoniously be freed from its confines and make its way to where it truly belongs, which is buried deep inside the warmth of your cunt. 

Hiromi finds pleasure in the discomfort of it all. If he was doing this with anyone else, he’d be hyper aware of the stiffness of his dry cleaned suit, and how the loveseat seems to protest with the combined weight of you two rocking back and forth on top of it. He’d be too irritated with the way sex would wrinkle his clothes, and he probably wouldn’t even be this hard because he drinks so he has a valid excuse for never taking a woman home with him. 

Because it’s you, everything is felt to the extreme, but you have this way, this charm, this spell, that makes everything that happens to Hiromi better. The best. You are the best he’s ever had, and he thinks he grunts this into your ear as you rest your body against his, upper body limp and boneless, your lower half moving up and down, trying to get a good angle so his cock can hit right there.

He kisses your shoulder, and he experimentally thrusts up, and you let out a string of moans that are interspersed with little breathy fuck’s, and he thinks this might be one of his most favorite sounds in the whole entire world. So he keeps thrusting, keeps relishing in the way your walls seem to clamp down on him, keeps enjoying the way you hang onto him and whimper out his name. 

He is drunk, and he is in love, and he knows that he didn’t come here with the intention of fucking you boneless, but you don’t seem to mind, didn’t seem to mind when you kissed him first and started grinding on him, the catalyst to the situation he’s in now. 

He planned on telling you the truth, the story about why he left, about how he feels stupid on how he handled the whole situation. The bourbon he downed earlier this night seems to be affecting his brain, though, because all he knows is that there is only one confession he is capable of giving to you right now.

“I love you.” He groans, his hands finding your waist, gripping hard. “Fuck, I love you. Never stopped.” 

His cock feels too good when it's buried deep inside of you. You know it’s silly and stupid, but you want to tell Hiromi that you want him to fuck himself so deep that he can touch your heart with his dick. No other man would want to hear some creep shit like that, but Hiromi is Hiromi. He would get it. You drunkenly tell him your wish, and he lets out a little breathy laugh, rolls his hips, and rocks your world. 

“I’ll give it my best shot.” He says, and because the alcohol tells him that his sobriety makes him a bitch, he reminds you once more. “I love you.” 

You cum. The sex is drunken and messy, and while drunk sex usually happens in a blurry haze for you, you are seeing everything clearly. You can see the crease in between his brows as he concentrates on maintaining the perfect balance between relishing in your wetness and not overstimulating you. You can see the way his eyes greedily, lovingly, admire the messy sight of your joined bodies. You can see his nose, tall and as noticeable as ever, and so Hiromi. 

You want to tell him that you love his nose, but speaking is hard when he dicks you down like this. All you can do is press a kiss to the tip of it. This only makes him tighten his grip on your waist, his thrusts getting more erratic, and then you feel a nice warmth flooding inside of you. The two of you are rational adults, and rational adults know that cumming inside should be a no-no between two people who have yet to establish what the fuck you are to each other. 

“I love your nose.” You tell him, when you finally manage to catch your breath. He’s still buried inside of you, and you’re afraid that when he does eventually have to pull you off of him, everything’s going to come spilling out of you. The thought of separating from Hiromi makes you frown. You just got him back. 

“I love you.” He says back, for the nth time this night. Maybe he’s making up for lost time. Maybe he’s just drunk. You don’t care. Hiromi is back, and even if he leaves again, you’re happy that he’s at least here with you right now. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“If I tell you when I’m sober, will you believe me?” 

He’ll sober up tomorrow. If he tells you when he’s sober, that means he’ll have to stay. He won’t go. 

“Yes.” You say, trying not to reveal the fact that you already believe him. Hiromi is not as impassive as he thinks he is. “Pinky promise.” 

You feel the familiar warmth of his finger twisting ‘round yours. 

“Pinky promise.”

#hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #smut #one shot #drabble #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #hiromi higuruma smut

[swanimagines]

LOST DREAMS | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ancestor was cursed by Morpheus long ago so the women in your family would be plagued with eternal wakefulness, but you don't believe in the curse or that some ancient Greek god was the cause of it, like your grandmother always told you about. Doctors have told you that the only reason they can think of is most likely a severe case of ADHD in the family and that's why you never feel sleepy. But then you get a job at a Burgess mansion and find something in the basement that makes your grandmother's stories sounding not so crazy after all...

Even on her deathbed, your grandma had talked about the "curse" she claimed the whole family suffered from. You could see how it can be seen as a curse, never feeling sleepy and how you always had energy for everything - because of that, you had had plenty of boring moments every day and it did suck. Not to mention, your friends talking about how funny and good dreams they have had always sparked jealousy within you. It was something you had never experienced.

Doctors had researched you since you were a baby, but they couldn't pinpoint a reason for being unable to fall asleep either. They had you running from test to test, even sent you to another country for more tests with a world top sleep disorder clinic, but nothing worked. Some doctors were afraid that your condition is a type of fatal insomnia, and that you were slowly dying. But those were knocked down too with brain scans, and after your grandma and mother could testify that they had been exactly the same since birth, doctors were facing yet another puzzle. The condition was absolutely unheard of. You heard stories that someone in your family had been burned as a witch for not sleeping, which ultimately made you believe it's something running in the family.

And after some debating between doctors, they too decided that it's an extremely rare type of ADHD, the most severe there is, and your family are the first ones it's been detected to have. They also believed that something in your brains had aligned so perfectly that you not sleeping doesn't affect the brains negatively and expressed their will to be able to take your brains for medical research.

Your grandmother, however, wasn't keen on that thought. She had made up her mind that it's the ancient Greek god Morpheus who had cursed you with it, and nothing would be found from her brains.

"Mother, Morpheus is an ancient Greek god. He's not real," you remember your mother saying as you were visiting your grandma in the hospital. "There's also no thing as curses or magic."

Your grandma had pursed her lips and shook her head. "Oh my dear foolish girl, you just don't understand it. Our ancestor, many centuries ago, was Morpheus' lover, and-"

"She rejected him, we all remember," you interrupted. "He cursed her and everyone in her family to never feel tired."

Your grandma had let out a long breath through her nose. "No, he cursed the women with it. Not men. It is said that he became enraged when his lover refused his kingdom, and when she passed away, he took revenge by striking down all of us with this curse, preventing us from getting proper rest. And now, you're the newest one of our family to carrying the curse. Your future daughters will carry it too, and it will be passed on to their daughters in turn."

You had sighed in chorus with your mother, your grandma had always been clearly delusional about it. Likely brainwashed by her own mother, who had been brainwashed by her mother and so on. But you and your mother were new generation, who didn't believe in such absurd stories and had reliable medical research under your fingertips but unfortunately, you had had to listen your grandma talking about it all your childhood.

When your grandma had passed away, you moved out from your hometown and settling to a nice little town in southern England. You got a job as a cleaner-occasional cook-extra pay caretaker in a fancy mansion owned by an elderly couple, and life was good.

But every mansion has its mysteries, and this mansion had one too. A secret door with a hidden passcode tablet, and only some could go in. No one, besides the guards or Alex and Paul, really knew what was behind it, and no one dared to find it out for themselves. After all, everyone knew that if Alex found out that his servant was going into the room, he would likely fire them, so no one dared to try their luck.

No one, except you. You knew how to get in, and even though you never tried before, you had the feeling that it would work. So you had gone in secretly in the middle of the night, your "curse" as your little helper. You had succeeded in distracting the guards and crept your way down the stairs.

You came to a large, dark hall and you swallowed as you switched the light on. The lights blinded you for a moment, and you raised your arm in front of your eyes, before slowly peeking through and your heart jumped a little upon seeing a figure sitting there. It was a man, who was inside a large glass sphere, not even looking at you gawking at him. Then you realised that he was naked, and quickly turned your head away from his lower regions.

"I'm sorry, I...I..." You stuttered, your voice croaking. "I didn't think there's someone here. Everyone is so mysterious and I wanted to see what is it that is kept here. Wait, you... you aren't kept here as a prisoner, are you?"

The man didn't reply, but his eyes shifted at you, and you felt like a mouse caught in the stare of an owl. His gaze was intense, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took it as a yes. "Can I help you? Can I do anything?" you continued nervously.

The man kept quiet, but you caught something in his eyes, something which looked like disbelief. You opened your mouth to speak again, but then closed it. You glanced over your shoulder before taking a step towards the sphere, and noticed strange vigils in a circle on the ground.

"What's this?" you asked, still somehow wishing the man would say something. Even when you knew he wouldn't. But his gaze was on the circle now too and he cocked his head slightly at it.

"This sounds stupid, but it looks like a summoning circle. I've probably watched supernatural movies a little too much," you chuckled. The man slowly raised his eyes on you again, and then back down again. You frowned. "Do you... want me to break it?" you asked hesitantly.

The man's piercing blue eyes once again met yours. Then he, very slowly, nodded.

You swallowed hard and stepped forward, fingers trembling as you touched the circle with your foot. It immediately felt like some unknown force was pulling at you, like you were being pulled towards it and you made a stroke, erasing a small segment of the circle.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and heard noise from the stairway and immediately panicked, looking at the man and then sprinting towards the light. You turned it off and made your way to the farthest corner of the basement, hoping no one would notice you once lights were on.

After a few moments, you heard a chair scrape the stone floor and carefully peered towards the doorway. The other guard had come back and was reading a newspaper. You watched as the man in the glass sphere slowly stood up, pressing his hands on the glass and suddenly, all hell was loose.

A wind surged through the room, knocking the doors open and making a terrible sound. You covered your ears, before realising it wasn't just the wind. There was a bright light, you saw the figure of that man climbing out of the sphere and you screamed, not knowing what was happening.

Suddenly, the guard was on the ground and another bright light appeared. Then the man in the glass sphere was gone, just like that. The light, the wind and the noise had all stopped the moment that man had gone and you slowly got up. Your knees buckled but you forced yourself to go upstairs, to pretend you were never there. You were shaken. What had happened?

---

Some time after that, you were preparing yourself for another book marathon. You didn't feel like watching Netflix right now, so books it was. But then something happened, something that had never happened before.

You fell asleep. You put your head on the pillow and began reading when you were taken over this strange feeling of wanting to close your eyes, so you did. And sleep came. Suddenly, you were transferred in front of a huge castle, dragons and fairies flying over you and a sweet smell that tickled your nose. And you were sure you had lost your mind.

"Hello," a deep voice said from beside you and you twirled around to see the man from the sphere in front of you. Now, fortunately, fully dressed. He smiled and you stared at him, confused.

"How- How are you here?" You asked, frowning. This was absurd, almost like a... dream?

"You're dreaming," the man confirmed your suspicion. Your eyes widened.

"What? H-how?"

"I lifted the curse. So you could meet me."

You blinked. "C-curse?"

"Yes. A long time ago, I cursed a woman who didn't accept my proposal, when I asked her to be my queen when she died. So I told her that every woman who is born in her family, will be cursed by eternal wakefulness." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I was bitter and inconsiderate when I did that, taken by my feelings and sadness."

"Wait, so... my grandmother was right? You... you are..."

"Morpheus, the King of Dreams." He smirked. "Your kind thinks I'm just a story, but I exist, in fact. The whole dream realm exists, and we can't tell stories without dreams."

You still stood there, dumfounded. "You lifted the curse so I'm... I'm able to sleep and dream now?"

Morpheus smiled slightly. "Yes. As a thank you for releasing me."

You blinked again, and then took in your surroundings. A dragon sat next to you, its wings spread wide and a fairy sitting on top of it, playing with some sort of crystal ball.

"If I may, I can show you around the realm?" Morpheus offered and you gave him a nod. "Very well. Follow me."

You started walking with him, and in a few minutes, you arrived at a forest. The trees were tall and wide, with red flowers blooming everywhere. On your left, you could hear the sound of water flowing and on your right, a waterfall. A beautiful place, one that you wanted to stay in forever.

"There is a lake not far from here, where the fairies usually gather. It is very beautiful, would you like to see it?" Morpheus suggested and you nodded. "Follow me."

He walked into the woods, and shortly after that, you reached the lake. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and the land surrounding it was green. Many little houses were built around the edges, and you couldn't help but stare at them. They reminded you of dollhouses, and you quickly realised that they were where fairies lived.

"This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," you murmured.

"It is." Morpheus agreed. "Would you like to see my palace?"

You looked at him questioningly and he smiled.

"The house of the king of dreams is located in the heart of the realm. You need my permission to enter it, and only a few may. But you have earned my trust."

You nodded. "Thank you."

He smiled again. "Then follow me."

You walked out of the forest, and suddenly were met with the palace once again. It was bigger than you expected, even though you had been expecting it to be big. The garden was large and full of flowers, while the inside was decorated in a warm golden colour, with paintings hanging from the walls. He led you to the library, and you looked around at the bookshelves and the many old manuscripts.

"I heard you like books, so I thought you would like this," Morpheus said, smiling. "You can read whatever you want."

"Really?" You gasped, and his smile grew slightly. "Thank you!"

You went through the endless shelves, looking at all the books you could see. Some you recognised, others you hadn't seen before. Morpheus stood there for a moment, before exiting the room.

Dreams were even more magical than anyone had ever told you, and you couldn't wait to see a whole new world of them.

---

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[avatar-anna]

I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him

The Thing About Having Six Kids

so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Simone

(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)

Y/n: i'm pregnant

(one day later)

Y/n: Harry?

Harry: Are you sure?

Y/n: i'm sure

Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it

Harry: I don't know what to say.

Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that

Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot

Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.

Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?

Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me

Harry: What are you going to do?

Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you

Harry: I was just shocked that's all

Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents

Harry: Shit my parents!

Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now

Y/n: but i think i want to keep it

Y/n: the baby

Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not

Harry: I'm sorry. You know...

Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?

Harry: It seems too early to joke about this

Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment

(ten minutes later)

Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go

Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy

Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.

Harry: What are you talking about?

Harry: Y/n?

3 missed calls from Him <3

Collette

"Let's have another baby."

Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.

"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.

"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.

Perhaps a little too easily.

"Say something."

Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.

"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."

"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

"I...I have," Y/n said.

She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.

"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."

It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.

"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."

"But management—"

"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."

This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.

"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.

"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.

Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.

She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.

She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.

"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.

Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.

"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."

"That's not what I—"

"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."

He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.

"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "

Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"

Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."

Maeve and Jules

"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"

"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.

Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"

"Amazing," Harry breathed.

Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.

Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.

Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.

"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."

"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.

His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.

To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"

The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."

"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.

"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.

Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.

The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.

She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.

Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.

"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.

"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"

"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."

Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."

"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."

So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.

Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."

"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.

"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."

It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.

"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.

"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."

"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."

"You never know," Y/n finished for him.

Geneva

"We have some pretty big news to share."

Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.

They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.

Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.

"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.

Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.

"We're having a baby!"

Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.

And then things took an interesting turn.

"Who won?" Jeff asked.

"Won? What do you mean—"

"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."

A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.

"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.

"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."

"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"

"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."

Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."

As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.

He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"

"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"

"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"

"Eight months?"

And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.

Natalia

"I want Mommy!"

Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."

Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.

Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.

"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."

Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.

Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.

And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.

Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.

And he was missing it.

He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.

"Daddy?"

Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."

"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"

Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.

The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.

He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.

What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.

He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.

Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.

"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"

"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.

Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—

"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.

Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.

Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.

"Is that baby sister?"

Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"

The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"

"Mommy!"

"Mommy?"

"Mommy's home?"

Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.

"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"

There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.

"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.

"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.

"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."

"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.

"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"

Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n

[hs-is-loml]

Idiot. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: maybe you're a little frustrated that xavier found so much interest in wednesday addams all of the sudden.

Warnings: little angst, fluff ending

a/n: little blurb because i finished the show yesterday and i cannot stop thinking about him:)

masterlist

“Xavier, what’s your deal with her anyways?” you scoffed.

“Nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie knowing this whole school knows about you following her around like a lost little puppy,” you started to walk away from him but he caught you by the wrist and pulled you to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry, okay,” he muttered as he brushed the hair from your eyes.

“Xavier, you can’t keep doing this to me,” you broke eye contact to look down on the quad just to set your gaze on Wednesday Addams. “Great.”

“It’s about Rowan, okay?” he told you. “He had some weird obsession about her and his mom’s diary.”

“I don’t understand how that involves you.”

“Because ever since he left, I’ve been having these dreams about some sort of monster,” he explained. “Something just feels like Rowan, Wednesday, and that monster is all connected together somehow. I was talking to her about it, and she said that monster killed Rowan.”

“Xavier, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’ve been handling this all on your own,” you raised your hand to his cheek as he leaned into your touch. “You know I’m here for you always, right?”

“Yeah, I-I just thought I was going crazy, I needed to figure a couple of things first,” he gave a small smile down at you.

“Don’t push me away like that again,” you pulled his face in, to give him a quick kiss.

Though the second you pulled away, he pulled you back in placing his hands on your hips. You smiled into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck as he tightened his grip.

“Don’t let me be an idiot like that again,” he whispered leaning his forehead to rest against yours as you two pulled away for air.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | nico hischier ♔

summary: after seeing nico's interview, y/n freaks out at her new follower. then, they meet unexpectedly.

warnings: awkward/trashy/horrible writing, and y/n and nico being somewhat awkward

notes: ahh finally here is part 2 to fangirl. i kind of like it... a little? i'm not sure but let me know if i should make this a series of blurbs and stuff.

part one (fangirl) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Y/n didn’t know what to expect from the postgame interview with Nico. She had fallen asleep, tired after performing and hosting SNL so she wasn’t able to watch the game nor was she able to watch any of the interviews. However, when she woke up to her friends texting her and her social media notifications all over the place, it was the first thing she watched. 

She laid in bed as she watched it, entranced with the Swiss man and then that was when she heard her name. Bolting upright, her eyes widened as she focused on her phone. “Yeah, well you know, I haven’t actually met her so I can’t say I like her but I do think she’s cute and that’s all I’m going to say about this.”

Nico Hischier. Like the Nico Hischier thinks she is cute like Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. She was going insane. This wasn’t real. 

She went onto Twitter to see her fans going crazy about the interviewer. She was sure none of her fans watched hockey, let alone knew who Nico was until she mentioned him in that interview. She thought she was 100% dreaming until she clicked on Instagram and saw the + follower symbol come up. 

nicohischier followed you

She could die happy right there, her crush (her celebrity crush mind the fact) followed her on Instagram. Yep, this was her happy ending. 

✧༺✎༻∞

Y/n has lived in New Jersey since she was born, always being somewhat of a hockey fan, learning things here and there from her father. So even when she became a famous singer, she still chose to live in New Jersey because it was home to her. 

She didn’t really piece together the fact that she could potentially run into Nico Hischier and some point in time in her life. I mean the odds of her and him being even in the same state were low, but them actually running into each other, was even lower. New Jersey was the fifth smallest state in the US but there was still a high chance of them not meeting, like ever.

So when she was at a coffee shop near East Rutherford, planning to meet up with one of her friends who lived out this way, she didn’t expect the Captain of her favorite hockey team to be standing there, clad in a New Jersey Devil sweatshirt and some sweatpants. It was an off day for them in between homestands, so she could’ve only assumed that they were either done with practice or would have practice later in the day. 

It was like her whole world stopped when she looked up from her phone. His following her on Instagram was enough to make her day, but she thinks this might have just been what made her year, maybe her whole entire life. 

She stared at him for at least five minutes before his eyes looked up from his phone and locked onto hers. Her eyes widened at the eye contact and quickly diverted their gaze to whatever she was doing on her phone. Oh, that was not helpful.

On her phone were pictures of Nico, because, well she didn’t have a reason, but did she need one anyway? 

She heard the screeching of the chair in front of her and hoped Lila was finally here so they could leave this place and escape her bubble of embarrassment. Looking up she saw the man looking back at her and he waved once she finally looked up. 

She panicked and closed out whatever app she was on (photos, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, who cares? There were still pictures of the man in front of her on her screen.), and slammed her phone down on the table. 

He waved at her and her cheeks reddened, “You’re- You’re Nico Hischier?” Her voice came out as more of a question than a statement, which wasn’t what she was intending to do. 

“Yep, and you’re y/n y/l/n.” His voice was on the cockier side and she stared at him “You know who I am?”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people know who you are. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t know about the girl who publicly acclaimed her love for me?”

She stumbled over her words as she tried to talk and Nico cut her off, “It’s okay, I’ve seen and heard worse from fans.”

“That I can believe.” The two chuckled and looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do next. 

“Look this might be a stretch but since I embarrassed myself, very publicly I might add, and might as well be doing it again, I should get a favor in return, right?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Depends on what this ‘favor’ is?” He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip of the liquid inside. 

“Can I get your number? I know it’s really forward and all and it might be a little creepy but-”

She was cut off by a hand that touched hers, “That’s not really much of a favor. It’s more like common sense.” 

Nico wordlessly took her phone from in front of her and turned it over, “Were you looking at pictures of me?”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk and she squeezed her eyes shut, “Maybe?”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s kind of adorable.” Just as her cheeks returned to a normal color again, they flushed a deep shade of pink once more. 

Nico effortlessly typed his phone number into her contacts and texted himself so he’d have hers. They each had the same thing in mind when they pulled up their cameras and went to take a picture of each other. Y/n giggled as she saw Nico’s phone pointed at her, “I guess great minds think alike.”

After setting their contact phones, they talked for a brief couple of minutes when Lila barged in, “Y/n! I am so sorry I’m late, I feel horrible. But you’ll never guess what I found out- holy shit, that’s-”

“Hi, I’m Nico.”

“Yeah, yeah you are. When did- When did you two meet?”

“Like five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay cool.”

“Listen if you two are supposed to hang out, I can leave-”

“No. no, you stay. I’ll leave. Have fun you two, but not too much!” Lila said calling after the two, exiting the coffee shop.

“We’ll she’s… interesting. In the nicest way possible.”

“I’m sorry about her, honestly.”

The two continued to talk for about an hour or two before Nico had to leave, “I’m so sorry my teammate, well friend,  just texted me. Apparently, he and his brother are having an ‘emergency’. And by emergency, I’m pretty sure he just means they found a spider in their apartment.”

Y/n, not even bothering to conceal her knowledge of the team or the fact that she took time to put the dots together, blurted out, “Jack and Luke are afraid of spiders?” 

Nico’s eyes widened, “You know them?”

“Yeah, I’m a huge Devils fan. Have been since I was born but also none of your other teammates are brothers…”

“Oh, right. Well, I hate to leave you alone, but when duty calls as captain.”

“Go, do your captain duties.” Y/n waved goodbye to Nico as he ran out of the coffee shop and smiled, she had just met Nico Hischier. 

✧༺✎༻∞

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Nico and y/n had hung out whenever possible. Whenever he had an off day they would hang out, he would invite her to lunch on game days if possible, he texted her when he and the team got back from their road trip and invited her over to his house. 

They were, to put it in simple turns, obsessed with each other. They finally went on a proper date to one of y/n’s favorite restaurants. This pattern continued through multiple occasions and everyone could see the differences in their faces and lives. 

Whenever y/n would hang out with her friends or go to an interview or something along those lines, you could see her glowing as she talked or just sat there. Nico’s teammates would eye him weirdly when he’d smile at his phone or was happier during morning skates. His smile was bigger and brighter whenever they won and even when they lost he still had a bit of a glow to him, much like y/n did. 

On their fifth date, Nico finally asked the question, “Well we’ve known each other for about, how long has it been? Two months?” 

Y/n nodded her head as she took a drink of the water that sat on the table in front of her. They were at Nico’s house and it was an off day once again for him. She waited for him to continue speaking, her nerves bundling up inside of her, “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to make it official you know?”

Her eyes widened, not ever in a million years did she meet Nico Hischier, let alone him ask her to be his girlfriend, “What are you saying, Neeks?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Y/n nodded and hugged him tightly, you would have thought the two just got engaged. After talking for a bit they decided to quote-unquote soft launch. Her friends were begging for details about her glowiness, much like Nico’s teammates. They didn’t have to reveal it all just yet, right?

✧༺✎༻∞

yourusername

liked by nicohischier, yourbff, lhughes_06, and 213,039 others

youruserame i guess you were in need of a life update?

tagged nicohischier

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yourbff do my eyes deceive me or is this a hard launch??

nicohischier 🫶🏻

⤷ yourusername @/nicohischier 🫶🏻

lhughes_06 mom!

✧༺✎༻∞

nicohischier

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nicohischier life recently

tagged yourusername, jackhughes

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yourusername ❤️🖤

⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername 🖤❤️

tmeier96 cap 🫡

vitacz15 @/yourusername it was so great to meet you

⤷ yourusername @/vitacz15 ahh i love you vitek!

yourusername awe, my boyfriend and his boyfriend!

⤷ jackhughes @/yourusername hey he was mine first

⤷ nicohischier @/yourusername @/jackhughes i have no idea what either of you are talking about

⤷ user07 even y/n knows

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #nico hischier #nh13 #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #new jersey #new jersey devils #nj devils #devils

[rewh0re]

MORE THAN JUST A DREAM ; GETO SUGURU

—wc: 3.2k, fluff, no curses au, college au, alcohol consumption, new year's kiss, ocs (reader's friends are ocs), implied oc x gojo, use of the pronoun 'she' once (except that it's gn! reader), gojo is RICH

a/n: I had to repost don't even ask it wouldn't show up in tags😐 anyways happy new year baby boos take this geto fic as a gift. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

divider cred: @/benkeibear

Gojo Satoru's annual New Year's Eve parties were a lavish affair. Set in the luxurious penthouse that he owned which he would only use for parties he hosted. There was a myriad of alcohol—all from the finest and most renowned brands—to choose from. There was music, there was dancing, there was a fucking champagne fountain for Christ's sake.

For a party hosted by some college student, it sure was a grand event. From freshmen to seniors, everyone attended it, dressed in their finest cocktail attires and fancy shoes.

For a party with so many attractions to catch the eye, Gojo Satoru and his best friend Geto Suguru took the cake. The pair could never be separated, may it be in the various parties and events they attended or when they were strolling the college campus. While Gojo was the louder, more exuberant and outgoing out of the two, Geto's genuine smile—whenever he was around his best friend—was hard to miss.

It was Geto's smile that always made your heart flutter.

You remember the first time you had noticed Geto Suguru. A simple, ravishingly attractive man, who sat two seats in front of you. He probably was not the teacher's favourite with the way he often got into little discussions and debates with the professors regarding the day's topics if he disagreed with certain aspects of it. Always polite and respectful but with a conniving smile on his lips nonetheless if he proved his point of view to be correct. His voice was always calm in class and he never stepped back from expressing his opinions. You thought it was a phenomenal quality to have.

You would see him often during breaks, his usual spot being a few tables away from yours. His rambunctious best friend was always at his side along with a girl who would always have a cigarette between her lips. Shoko Ieiri—you later learnt—was her name. Your friends and you would often not care, but sometimes, Gojo's mirthful laughter echoed throughout the area and you were bound to see Geto shake his head with a little snicker of his own at his friend's nuances. That's how you came to know of Geto. A well sought after, smart, insanely attractive and—from what you've heard— a polite and kind individual. You had admired Geto from a distance for a whole of three years now. The conversations you had with him could be counted on one hand but he had always been sweet to you. You wondered if he even remembered you. You did have flings here and there but you had always had that little spot of affection in your heart for the man who was Geto Suguru.

In the three years that you have been in this college of yours, you have never attended Gojo Satoru's new year's eve parties. You had heard stories and every year you had promised yourself to attend it. However, every year your mother called you back home to celebrate the holidays with your family and you could never deny it. Your friends initially complained but they understood your position and promised to tell you all the things that happened. One year you heard the crazy new year's kiss one of your friends had with a boy she met there and how magical it all seemed. The other year they told you how Gojo and Geto both got shit faced drunk and danced to every song until they physically dropped on the floor, unable to move and Shoko had to come take them away with a sigh. You learnt how Gojo normally avoided alcohol, feasting on the many desserts instead and how Geto and Shoko were often seen smoking a cigarette on the balcony together. You too wanted to attend this annual event, that was like a myth to you.

This year allowed that. With your father planning an impromptu vacation for only your mother and himself, you had the perfect opportunity to finally attend the party you had wanted to go to since your freshman year.

It was 31st December and you were beyond excited. Your friends had been elated to know that you would finally visit Gojo's party with them and they took it upon themselves to get you dolled up and ready for it, paying no heed to your complaints of "I can do it myself."

That's how you found yourself in Gojo's penthouse. The place was bustling with noises—music, talking, whistles (which you assumed were directed to the people who were dancing). The place was huge, something way out of your imagination. There were lights and decorations that increased the beauty of the place ten folds. And there was that goddamned champagne fountain that everyone talked about. “Gojo Satoru is rich,” was the very first thought that crossed your mind after a moment of awe and speechlessness.

"He's crazy rich," your friend, Aoi, laughed.

Oh, so your thoughts might have slipped out from your mouth.

"I'm sure Geto is too. Didn't you see his motorcycle in the parking area? That has to belong to some super loaded dude," your other friend, Saeko commented.

"Didn't you have a thing for Geto, y/n?" Saeko wiggled her eyebrows at you as she crossed her arms, a smirk evident on her lips.

"Eh, kinda. I mean, he's okay to look at I guess," you shrugged, making your way to the bar. The college parties you went to never had a bar. The alcohol had to be derived from the kitchen and most of the time, it was some sort of jungle juice.

"Oh shut up, you like him," Aoi smacked your back as she settled herself beside you on the bar stool.

"I never denied that," you winked at her as you downed the tequila, the bartender served the three of you.

"Having fun so far?" An unknown voice made the three of you turn your heads. Gojo Satoru. Standing tall in front of you, a lazy grin on his face and for heaven knows what reason his stupid sunglasses covering his eyes even at 11 in the night.

"Gojo Satoru," Saeko crossed her legs, leaning back on the bar counter as she smiled at him.

"In the flesh ma'am," he winked at her. A charming wink that girls would often faint over.

"That didn't answer my question though. Having fun?" He asked again.

"What would you offer as compensation if we said we weren't," he laughed at Saeko's little bantering comment. He knew she didn't mean it. Everyone had the time of their lives at Gojo Satoru's party.

"Oh Saeko, you have been coming here for the past two years. No need to lie to me, sweetheart. However—if I have, by chance—failed you this year, do dance with me. That'll be compensation enough," he winked at her.

"And they say chivalry is dead," your friend shook her head.

"I noticed you brought a friend this year?" His eyes raked over to you as he offered you a welcoming smile.

You returned it with a wave of your own.

"That's y/n. She didn't wanna miss out on this year's party," Aoi introduced you as she sipped on her strawberry daiquiri.

"Great to meet you y/n. I hope my little party meets your expectations," before you could counter his comment of the party being "little" a velvet smooth voice laced with mild jest interrupted your conversation.

"Don't annoy the guests Satoru," and there he was beside his best friend, Geto Suguru. His long black hair tied in a semi bun, an earring dangling from his right ear and a cheshire grin on his lips. Geto Suguru was a beautiful man to look at.

"I could never do that Suguru," Gojo turned to look at his best friend as his grin widened.

"Saeko brought a friend with her. I was just acquainting myself. Meet y/n."

Geto's eyes slid over to your figure, his smile softening. You could feel yourself warming up under his soft and welcoming gaze.

"You are in my psychology class," he said as he offered you his hand for a shake.

"I am," you shook his hand, the feeling of his fingers against yours, erupting little butterflies in your stomach. The coolness of his many rings against your warm hand sent shivers down your spine.

"I think I need that dance Gojo," Saeko said over the blasting music and the male was quick to respond. Giving her his hand, Gojo led your friend away towards the dance floor. She turned around to wink at you and Aoi before the pair disappeared.

You could only laugh at her antics. Saeko was a known flirt and you had heard how every year she would have a little fun with Gojo. This was the first time you had seen it and you could not help but laugh. Good god that girl knew what she was doing.

"Every damn year this happens," Geto chuckled as he leaned on the counter behind you. "I don't know if I want those two to be together or not with how much they flirt on this one day every year."

Aoi excused herself with a smirk, leaving you alone with Geto. Based on how the night went, you would either thank her or strangle her, but that was a problem for later.

"Why have I never seen you here y/n?" Geto looked over at you, tilting his head in question. His smile never left his face.

"Got caught up with my family every year. Decided to be here for a change," you ordered a glass of sangria, diverting from the tequila you were having earlier.

"I hope you can hold your liquor,"

"Aren't you a gentleman Geto," you smiled up at him.

"Oh yeah I definitely am," he nodded his head, mocking your smile. "Call me Suguru."

"Okay Suguru," you pat his shoulder.

"Care for a dance?" He looked at the dancing bodies and then at you, motioning his head towards the dance floor.

"Uhh, I've got two left feet. I'm afraid I'll scare people away with my dancing," you cringed.

His jubilant laughter filled your ears as his head rolled back, eyes crinkling. Your eyes widened slightly at the beauty of the sight in front of you. You did not quite understand if the slight intoxicating feeling that you felt was due to the alcohol you consumed or the laugh that he offered. 

"Don't worry about that. Half of us got two left feet, me included. Come on," before you could protest, Geto was already pulling you towards the dance floor.

The next few seconds were a whirlwind. One second you were sipping your sangria and the next you were in the middle of the dance floor, a hoard of sweaty bodies surrounding you and Geto's hands held your waist tightly. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck as he smiled reassuringly at you. Your initial nervousness faded as Geto started swaying to the beat. Before you could process anything, you were there with him, living in the moment. You both danced to the music as his arms wrapped around you, twirling you around and swaying you. Somewhere between your dancing, you spotted Gojo and Saeko. She twirled in his arms, laughing as she landed on his chest.

"Cute aren't they?" Geto screamed in your ear over the blasting music.

"She never told me about this," you shook your head at him.

"Oh this is their annual ritual. They'll flirt for one night and pretend that the other does not exist for the rest of the year," he twirled you again. "I've told Satoru to just date her and he always says 'nah she is not into me.' I swear to god he's so stupid at times,"

"I think they'd make a hot couple, don't you?" You smiled at your dance partner.

"Oh absolutely."

Geto could feel a sense of warmth in his chest as he saw you letting yourself free, enjoying and dancing to your heart's extent. The pounding in his chest increased and he blamed it on his dancing.

He had always known you as the quiet student in his psychology class who sometimes answered the professor's questions. The few times you had talked was in class whenever you had to add points to open discussions. He had always found you to be pretty. He didn't know you personally till now, but he had seen you with Saeko, sitting a few tables away from theirs. He was glad he finally got to talk to the person he had been gaining the courage to talk to properly for a while now.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked you as he pulled you close.

"Where are you gonna take me?" You poked his nose.

Geto laced his fingers with yours and pulled you out of the crowded area as he took you upstairs. He led you to a balcony that looked down at the city below. You had never really been this high up somewhere so you were awestruck by the view. The cars zoomed past below and the city donned a look you had never seen before. Lights decorated the buildings, light dusts of snow covered the streets as they fell from the sky above.

"Like what you see huh?" Geto snickered.

"This is wonderful—what—I have been missing several things," you leaned over the balcony to get a better look.

"Easy now, don't want you falling over. Also, yeah. This is like my escape, you know. When I get a bit exhausted by the party I come here, especially for the new year's countdown. I like seeing the fireworks," you had completely forgotten that it was new year's in a few minutes now.

"Shit how long since it's the new year?" You gasped at him.

Geto took out his phone from his pocket, squinting his eyes at the screen before putting it away.

"Uh four more minutes," he leaned on the balcony railing as he looked at you.

You could hear the test firecrackers going off in the distance. One then two and they stopped for a moment.

"You look absolutely gorgeous by the way," he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You don't look too bad yourself. I especially like what you've done with your hair," you gestured at your own to make him understand.

"You like my hair?"

"Oh absolutely. It's stunning. Do tell me your hair care routine."

"Maybe I can text it to you?" He dipped his head down towards you.

"Are you asking for my number Geto Suguru?" You gasped in mock surprise. "Scandalous."

He was opening his mouth to probably say something witty when you both heard it. The countdown to the new year. Loud voices from the floor below started counting. The last ten seconds of this year.

10...

You both looked at the door and then at each other as you shared a small laugh.

9...

He came ever so close to you.

8...

His gaze was set on your eyes as you fiddled with the locket that rested on your chest. The intensity of his gaze made your insides jump.

7...

His hand travelled down to your waist, holding it with a light grip.

6...

Your eyes travelled down from his dark obsidian eyes to his lips as he licked them with a swipe of his tongue. What you would give to just feel them on yours.

5...

"You know I always did think you were a beautiful person. From the moment I first saw you in psychology," he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

4...

"Yea I kinda thought you were okay looking too,"

3...

He laughed at your comment as he pulled you closer by your waist, “just okay?”

2...

You could feel his lips hovering over yours, his eyes fluttering shut just like yours.

“Just okay…” you whispered.

1...

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The echoes of the plethora of drunk college kids had become background noises the moment you crashed your lips on his.

You could hear the confetti pop and the firecrackers burst lighting the dark midnight sky with a million colours but all that mattered in the moment were his lips that moved in perfect sync with yours. Your hands gripped his hair as his own grip on your waist became tighter. He trapped you against the balcony railing and one of his hands came up to cup your face as he slightly tilted his head in a way to deepen the kiss. You could feel his lips perfectly fit with yours, a taste of mint on his tongue. His cologne invaded your senses, jumbling up your mind further. He smelled of nashi pear, cardamom and vetiver with a hint of woody musk. You felt yourself falling apart due to his entrancing aroma. Kissing Geto Suguru made your stomach do several somersaults and your heart was so erratic in its beating, it could jump out of your ribcage. This felt like a dream. Hell, was this even real?

You pulled away for breath as your eyes scanned his face. There was adoration in his own two dark eyes and something akin to lust.

"Happy new year Suguru," you raked your finger through his hair as his head dropped down on your shoulder.

"Happy new year y/n," he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before pecking your neck.

A loud squeal in the very next second, broke the two of you apart.

"OH MY GOD SUGURU, YOU'RE GETTING BITCHES?" Gojo Satoru was smiling mischievously with Saeko by his side.

"Shut up Satoru," Suguru groaned at his best friend rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"I hate you so much, your timing is the worst," he flipped him off before pulling you to his side.

"In my defence I didn't know you would bring someone here this year. Every year you are alone—"

"SHUT UP SATORU," Geto yelled in embarrassment as a tint of red covered his cheeks.

"You don't bring girls here often?" You asked amused.

"Oh he never does. This is the first time!" Gojo stated proudly.

"You're annoying them Satoru," Saeko smacked Gojo's head as the latter whined about everyone being mean to him.

"Ok what is going on? I searched the whole penthouse and you all are here?" A panting Aoi burst through the door.

"Y/n got the guy," Saeko said casually and it was your turn to turn a shade of red.

"SAEKO!?"

"Y/n got the guy? You mean Geto?" She looked over at the two of you as Geto waved at her with a smile.

"Ok this is huge?! Y/n oh my god finally," she squealed in her hands.

"Ok the lot of you can leave you know? Just give us some time alone, geez," you ushered your friends away including Gojo who would not leave without giving Suguru a rough smack on his back.

"Did you like me? You know, before this?" He took your hand in his as he rubbed circles on the back of each of them.

"Kind of," you sighed. "I mean I guess I did have a small crush on you?"

"Okay so now we definitely need that number," he tilted your chin up as he pecked you lightly before bumping his forehead with your.

You could say you had a pretty eventful start to the new year.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk geto #geto suguru #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto fluff #getou fluff #geto suguru fluff #getou suguru fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #jjk fics #jujutsu kaisen imagines #geto imagines #─storytelling🌙

[seduzist]

that love, the crazy kind.

guinevere beck x fem! reader

cw: mentions of sexual harassment, stalking, obsession, murder, blood, smut (just a little), reader is kinda joe in this??? idk but they’re both crazy

beck was just different, different from anything you knew, she was the type of person that enchanted since the first time you saw her, looking for some book at the store you worked at. and since this day, you couldn’t stop thinking about her, stalking her anywhere, watch carefully every step she made.

didn’t take more than 10minutes for you to find out she liked girls, it was all over her social media, likes and shares here and there, it was like she was looking almost desperately for a girlfriend. and it has to be you, you were the one.

and of course, after some months of preparation, you showed beck that undeniable truth, she fall for you easily and just like you thought she was the perfect girlfriend. she was understanding and gentle, she was funny, sexy, lovingly, respectful, smart, and all of the things you’ve ever dreamed of.

everything was just how it should be. guinevere beck was just perfect.

until, that night.

one of her terrible friends invited you both to a stupid bar with stupid people and a stupid guy couldn’t stop looking at you. at first, she maintained her calm and silence, she wasn’t the jealous type, not at all.

she didn’t even lose it when he tried to hit you, asking you if he could buy a drink and giving a little drunk smirk that made she wants to take it off his face.

but when you denied the offer politely, telling him you weren’t interested, he tried to touch you, not your arm, or your hand, he tried to grab you by the waist and give you a kiss. of course you pushed him and told him to “get the fuck off”. he did.

beck was so perfect after this, she driven you home, told you to shower, helped you sleep with a nice mug of tea. she made you feel safe and sound like always, but that wasn’t enough, she had to actually keep you safe.

when you slept, she thought about the whole plan, she could stay with you all night, or she could go back to that stupid bar and make that idiot pay for trying to mess with was hers, and the second option looked way better.

so she got back, it was late at night, she waited in the totally empty and dark parking lot. the establishment wasn’t exactly the type that have cams on it, and by this angle she had the perfect view of who enters or leaves.

two hours passed, but beck was still wide awake, then she saw him, staggering pathetically, so drunk that at every step he didn’t fall could be considered a record.

she gets out of the car, approaching him, faking a smile.

“hi!” she said, getting his attention. “want to see something?”

[…]

when beck got back home, her clothes were drained in semi dry blood and she still had shiverings all over her, she did everything right? she got rid of the murder weapon, she disappeared the body, she made sure to drive back home in the way where there’s no cameras.

when beck took her dirty clothes off and went to a good and long shower, she made sure to take a good look at your sleeping figure, to remind her why she did all of this, it was worth it.

but if she truly trusted you and knew about your past, maybe if she had told you about what she did, you would have the opportunity to tell beck that a corpse floats on water after a few days of death, and that amounts of blood can’t go away in laundry, it must be burned.

when she did wake you up, through, it wasn’t to talk, it wasn’t even purposefully, she was just making noises and shaking the bed, when you looked at your side, you saw her, all naked with a pillow between her thighs.

“beck?” you called and she immediately stopped.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” her voice sounded genuinely sorry, but deep inside you knew she wanted you to wake up.

“it’s okay, keep going.” you whispered back, already sitting on the edge of the bed taking off your pajamas.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of her, her perfect body looked so good while pleasuring herself, you felt eager to touch her, but still undressed yourself slowly as she looked at you, like the sight alone made her even hornier.

when you finished, you get on top of her, taking the pillow off of her hands and kissing her instead, it’s like both of you were starving for each other, you didn’t know what made beck so eager but she certainly was.

you passed one leg through her waist, putting both of your centers together, it felt so good and warm, you couldn’t help but moan against her lips, starting in slow movements against her.

but when you looked down at her, you saw it, a little stain of dry blood just above her chest, you stopped immediately.

“what’s this?” you touched her skin, showing her exactly where it was the stain, she stuttered a few times but after some minutes she told you about everything. she thought you would be mad, or scared, she thought you would leave her, but you didn’t.

that night, you both made love more ferociously and lovingly than ever, for hours until your bodies couldn’t move anymore, that was the night when you and beck recognized you were equal, that isn’t a reason to hide each other’s feelings or personalities. that was the night where you felt like you belonged with someone, for the very first time.

#vanessa shelly smut #guinevere beck #beck x reader #you #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanny #vanessa x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #fem!reader #wlw #elizabeth lail

[celestica-1988]

Some other Tokyo Revengers characters headcanon. There will be SPOILERS.

When Mikey left the Sano household he brought with him his towel and some pics of the people he lost. Almost every night when he's curled up in his towel ready to sleep he watches the pics and cries. Yes, even when he's in bonten.

Draken biggest regret is not confessing his feelings to Emma. So when he gets up and goes to bed he always says "I love you" to her pic on the wall.

Baji is so scared of his mother tears because when she cries she turns in a really strong opponent. She's the female version of the blue ogre.

Chifuyu thought that his mother hated Peke J till one day when he got home from school and found the two sleeping together snuggling.

Takemichi finds some notes of his past self in which he's confused about being friends with people he doesn't even remember he knew and lately being involved in a gang. Past Takemichi is afraid he's going insane so our Takemichi writes te a note in which he explains everything. Not surprisingly past Takemichi is even more confused and thinks he need a therapist.

Kazutora is proud of his tattoo. He just wish people in Japan wouldn't be so scared of tattoos because sometimes is tired of hide it with turtlenecks.

Takuya likes to watch wrestling.

Yamagishi dream is that his delinquent encyclopedia would be published one day.

Akkun dies his hair red by himself as a training to be an hairdresser.

Mitsuya is very good at karaoke, he likes to sing rock songs.

Hakkai is the first and more hardcore shipper of Mitsuya x Yuzuha. He really wants Taka-chan to be a part of his family.

Sometimes Taiju babysits Mana and Luna. One time they asked him to watch IT (the 90s version) with them since Takanii forbid them to watch such a scary horror movie, Taiju accepted but not much longer the movie started Mana and Luna started to cry and Taiju did his best to comfort them (he said he would punch any clowns that goes close to them or something similar). In the end the little ones fell asleep in his arms and Taiju had to live for a week with the Mitsuya because Mana and Luna felt safe only near to him. Needless to say an angry Mitsuya scolded Taiju.

When Pahchin gets released all the Toman members throw a party for him. He was sad Mikey was not there though.

When Yasuda confessed to Pehyan he malfunctioned and froze for a solid 15 minutes.

Angry thought for a while that he would be a nurse when he will be an adult. He changes his mind after seeing Nahoya smiling with his eyes wide in delight while eating the ramen that he prepared. Since then Angry wants to be a ramen chef.

Smiley once stole Angry favorite stuffed animal, Souya got so upset that accidentally unleashed the blue ogree. Since then Nahoya always politely asks to Souya if he can borrow one of his plushies.

Mucho goes to punk rock concerts, one time he brought Sanzu with him, but it wasn't a good idea. Sanzu beated almost all the people in the venue.

Sanzu ends up regretting killing Mucho, he misses the older brother he was for him. Especially when he feels lonely and he realizes he has got nobody to talk to.

When Kisaki reaches the afterlife Baji punches him in the face so hard that for a moment he was sure he would come back in the world of the livings.

Hanma likes to play shooting games at the arcade, but when he loses he usually punches the machine.

Kokonoi lives in a traditional house when he's in bonten. There are a lot of candles, lanterns and things that make it a cozy place. Only Miley is admitted in his house and only for urgent matters. The house is his sanctuary to find inner peace after dealing with his crazy coworkers.

Inui likes goth girls more because they understand and appreciate his hobbies.

When Izana listens to Queen the whole neighborhood listens to Queen.

Kakucho learned to cook from Mochi.

Mochi hates creeps who harass women and always beat them down to a pulp. Harassing a woman is not an honorable behavior for a man!

Shion always fails tests of courage since when he was a kid. He believes in ghosts and he's afraid of them.

Rindou panicked when Ran slept for a whole day, he thought he was dead or in a coma. That's when he realized how important Ran is to him. When Ran woke up he cried for joy and ran to buy a mont blanc for his brother.

Ran cut his hair because he was tired of Sanzu calling him Wednesday or Annabelle.

Never insult someone because they are not fully Japanese in front of South, he will punch the living shit out of you. Since he's also a mixed race person he hates when people are bullied for that reason.

Wakasa saved a stray cat once and let the kitten live with him. Now when he doesn't wanna hang out with Takeomi he said he's busy... Busy cuddling his cat that he treasures so much because it help him avoid unnecessary social situations. And because... Who doesn't love a cat?

Benkei likes to built copies of castles in miniature. It relaxes him cause it takes great concentration and ability to do that in the right way.

Takeomi gossips like an old lady with his coworkers (may God help them)

Shinichiro cried the first time he watched Titanic, it's one of his favorite movies.

Yuzuha meets with Emma and Senju every month to talk about how hard it is dealing with problematic brothers.

Hinata is a fan of Avril Lavigne and sometimes she dreams of touring around the world playing the songs she wrote. Unluckily she can't sing but she has got some alternative fashion clothes.

Emma talks and sleeps with the plushie Draken gave to her. She calls him Kenken.

Senju goes often to Harajuku to take inspiration for her outfits.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #mikey sano #draken #baji keisuke #matsuno chifuyu #takemichi hanagaki #mitsuya takashi #taiju shiba #kazutora hanemiya #ran haitani #haitani brothers #rindou haitani #izana kurokawa #kakucho #tenjiku

[blueparadis]

//CWs —>alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader, switch!alpha, just hints of abo verse. primal play. will never get over the duality of this man.

The first time when you are about to get cozy and intimate with your boyfriend, Satoru he is painted with nothing but shyness. He is practically sitting at the corner of the bed, hands locked and head down; eyes sneaking in your direction every other minute to check if . . . you are beckoning him or not. It is embarrassing actually, to think that he would be this nervous to do what he is about to do, to you. Heck! the first time you kissed him he had stayed silent for the whole day. Shoko and Suguru constantly kept asking if something was up but he just brushed it off asking him to leave him alone. It was like his whole body was on reboot. And, the most embarrassing part of all this is that you just gave him a little peck on his cheeks. Yes, on the cheeks.

But it is not like he hasn't thought of you in less holy ways for being shy and not taking upon your advances as he should. He has, and every time he would get a boner. So, eventually, he learned to deal with it; regulate his longing for you, the raging hormones and his stupid heart that beats like crazy whenever he is with you. Then again, when your lips finally touched his, it took a few seconds for him to settle in, to process the fact that all those wet dreams he had about you might just become true.

You think Satoru is just being shy, and you always found that adorable about him yet now you are pinned down on the bed, his grip making your hands immobile to place them along your ears and the only sound penetrating this silence is his hard panting. Don't get him wrong he loved the feeling of your fingers skimming through his undercut, tugging on your hair as you kissed him but right now, all he knows is that he can not let go of you, he has to satiate this hunger inside of him that has been building for months otherwise it is going to drive him in utter lunacy.

So, when he is done staring at you the first thing he does is to suck at your neckline, biting at the end and inhaling your scent. It has lingered on his mind since the first time he shared a hug with you. The kisses continue, and every time you exhale it gets heavier. He does not even forget to soothe the areas he bit, he licks them afterwards. His knee nestles in between your legs as you try to move, and fidget with your hands in hopes of letting his grip become a little lithe yet all you feel is his grip getting stronger; a minute later he pulls away asking with a restless look on his face, "What? What's wrong?" He almost seems annoyed. You catch up on your breath when he notices your taut nipples.

"Do that again," you murmur in between your breaths and finally, when your breathing becomes even you just look at him in the eye without any hesitation it makes him raise an eyebrow.

"So, you liked that huh?" he adds before going down on you.

#alpha!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #jjk scenarios #jjk drabbles #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru smut #gojou smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo x female reader #omegaverse #tw a/b/o #alpha x omega #gojo scenario #gojo imagine

[creedslove]

The Millers 💖

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: an insight of Joel's married life with you and fatherhood of a little boy

Inspired by this post after I fell in love with the idea of Joel being a dad to a baby boy 💙

Warnings: fluff and Joel Miller being the best husband and father in the world

A/N: idk besties, I love Joel and I want him to be happy 😭🥺

1.6k words

When Joel had Sarah, everything was harder; he was too young to take that much of a responsibility by himself and yet he did it. Giving up his dream and short term plans, he saw himself seeking a steady job to provide for himself and his baby daughter, and for that he worked hard. Joel Miller had to work his ass off in order to make sure his family would be well taken care of. However, he loved that tiny little baby girl with all his heart, and it was that love that gave him the strength and the perseverance to fight things off and make sure his daughter had everything he could give her. Luckily to him, he did a pretty good job at raising her, stated fact as she blossomed into a beautiful, lovely and kind-hearted young woman, who gave him nothing but happiness and pride when she managed to get into a top-notch university, after all, she was the smartest kid he'd ever met.

He didn't know exactly what to do after he dropped her off in college, returning to the home that had been filled with her presence, her laughter, her joy and her things, was now a home Joel would have to live in alone and occasionally sharing with his laid-back brother. He was still fairly young, he had a successful business and he thought he would spend his next decades leading a quiet, comfortable life, with a lot of work, some fun, some night stands and that was it.

Meeting you wasn't planned, but it ended up being one of the best, sweetest surprises life had given him, and still, he had never thought it would end up in marriage. He figured you two would be together until you got tired of him and found someone better, he wouldn't blame you, he always thought you deserved more, even if it broke his heart. Turns out you didn't want anyone better, younger or wealthier, you wanted him, exactly like he wanted you, so despite Joel being a stubborn man, you showed him your love and you ended up married to the love of your life. Not bad at all.

However, he had never thought of having a second child. Not that he was against it, but he just figured it wouldn't happen at all, he had gone through all of it with Sarah, so he didn't see himself restarting it from the very beginning… that is until you came with a positive pregnancy test and Joel realized he was going to be a father. You were going to be a mother and you two would become parents. It took him some seconds to let the news sink in, he was shocked, he was not going to lie… he knew you two should've discussed the possibility of having kids and how that would affect your marriage and daily life, but since you were already pregnant, he saw that ship had already sailed.

He was terrified, but also couldn't hide the fact he was so happy to be doing that with you, before he knew it would be different than the first time, where he had to handle a newborn on his own and became a single parent, instead you would do it as a couple, together, building up a family, you were about to become The Millers and he fucking loved that.

Over the course of his life, Joel had to learn to be a girl dad, task that wasn't easy at all, he had no idea one day he would have to learn about Disney princesses, and Barbies, and My Little Pony shit and all the sparkly glittery Sarah was so crazy about when she was a kid. And for a rough guy like himself, he had done a decent job. Which was why his whole perspective had changed the moment he learned you and him were having a little boy.

Joel felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, it was the second time you nearly gave him a heart attack during your marriage. It was so new to him, to know that in a matter of months he was having a little boy. He thought of all the things he would like to do some day, such as teach him how to play the guitar, take him to sports matches, play soccer after Sunday lunches, take him to work… there was just an infinity of things he could try. He was excited.

When you and Joel decided to turn the guest room into nursery, was when he began wondering if his son would be the dinosaur kind of kid, or if he would be into space stuff, animals, or whatever, and just to be safe, Joel bought some of each of the items; that way his little boy could choose whatever he wanted and Joel would be a proud dad not matter what.

Three years after you broke the news to him, Joel prepared himself to leave home and come back home every night to his beautiful wife and his sweet little toddler. It terrified him how time flew by and in the blink of an eye, his beautiful Samuel Miller went from a tiny little baby, to a sweet chatty toddler, and in a matter of time he would become a teen and then an adult. It felt like an exaggeration, but that was what happened to Sarah. He just didn't want to miss out on his son's life, he didn't want to waste precious family moments by working too much. Money was a need, but so was his family, and that was why Joel hated the fact he had to work until that late, he knew you would be gladly waiting for him, but Sammy would be just asleep by the time he finally made it back home. He sighed, as he really enjoyed spending time playing trucks, cars, or blocks with his little man.

He got off his truck and walked to the door, opening it to find a nearly quiet home, the sound of TV was there, though it was low enough for him to be aware you were still awake, but he was sure his boy was already in bed. That was why it made Joel so surprise to moment he saw a tiny little thing waddling towards him, his messy little brown curls showed he had already got cuddles from his mommy, which caused him to he sleepy, judging by the way he rubbed his tired little brown eyes - exactly like Joel's.

"Daddy?" He whispered and smiled tiredly the moment he spotted Joel, rushing to him and hugging him tight, giggling adorably the moment his daddy lifted him up and tiny arms wrapped around Joel's neck. "Miss you daddy"

"Miss you too, Sammy… were you nice to your mommy? Did you take good care of her?" He saw his son nodding obediently and you resting against the doorframe, smiling at them. Your heart was a puddle of love each time you saw how good Joel was with your little boy. You walked to them, caressing Sammy's head gently and pecked Joel's lips

"There's dinner for you" you winked at your husband and got his plate out of the oven, as it was still warm and placed it on the table. You walked to him and tried taking Sammy, but he shook his head "no mommy, stay with daddy please" he gave you the puppy eyes and then turned to Joel "can we play trucks after dinner, daddy?" He asked with a yawn and rested his little body against his dad's stomach, fighting sleep as hard as he could.

While Joel ate, Sammy just stayed quiet, his small hands gripping his daddy's wrist and holding his watch. He shook his head when Joel offered him some food, all he wanted was to play trucks with his daddy.

Joel was still hungry and he was eager to finish that amazing plate you'd made him, but he couldn't simply continue eating while his boy wanted to spend precious time with him. He wrapped his arm gently around Sammy's tummy and got up, taking his son with him

"Daddy is done eating, let's play now, okay? But let's play in your room because our trucks are so noisy and we can't bother mommy" he tickled his son, as he used his trick to convince Sammy to play a little in bed before tucking him in. Sammy on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement, he rubbed his tired eyes once more, but this time the giggles came easy as he was taken to his bed by his father. He sat down comfortably and asked Joel to pick his yellow and blue truck: it was his favorite, given by his big sister Sarah on his last birthday. The man smiled at the thought of it, how his kids were adorable, even if the age gap between them was expressive, Sarah was every bit of sweet to her baby brother, and Sammy simply loved her. He handed his son the truck and sat by the edge of the bed. As they engaged in the activity, Sammy told his daddy silly nothings, giggled and smiled, until he was overpowered by sleep. He lay down in bed, and Joel placed the truck on the floor, taking the fluffy dinosaur blanket and covered Sammy. His big hand caressed his son's beautiful face. He might look like Joel, but he was every bit of sweet and lovely as his mommy, you, the woman Joel loved the most and he was so thankful for having given him the best present a man could have: a family.

"Night night daddy"

"Night Sammy, daddy loves you"

"I love you too, daddy"

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