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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".

warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!

part two of ravish

There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you.

However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most.

Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago.

Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.

Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting.

But alas, there’s still no sign of him.

“Dammit Joel, where are you?”

You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.

It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.

Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were.

The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest.

You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing.

You did enjoy the punishments that followed though.

A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile.

Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic.

“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention.

It’s him.

He’s here.

His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?”

You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin.

“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock.

Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?”

“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.”

You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up.

His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down.

“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant.

“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?”

“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?”

You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.”

“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.”

“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.”

His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases.

With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door.

Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.

With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.

The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.

You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.

As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.

"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.

His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.

Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.

Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely.

“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.”

You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"

He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?”

Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass.

“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning.

“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?”

“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it.

The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.”

“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?”

He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?”

You remain silent.

“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?”

“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.”

“‘bout what?”

His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch.

“I really really like you, you know.”

“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words.

“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .”

You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?”

“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.”

“Well. . . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.”

“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly.

His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.

“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.”

“R-Really?”

He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.”

Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas.

Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?”

“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.

“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.”

The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.

You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?”

His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.”

All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see.

“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.”

Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista.

The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless.

Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought.

Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now?

“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn.

It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare.

“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?”

Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on.

“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible.

“I love your streams!”

“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.”

“Can I get a picture?”

Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead.

You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.”

Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star.

His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?”

“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook.

“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest.

“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?”

“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”

“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly.

Joel snarls, “Assholes.”

“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest.

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?”

“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.”

“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?”

Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.

You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.

Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.

Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.

"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs.

You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.

"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."

He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . . know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already.

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.”

Mine.

One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were.

Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead.

“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.”

No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.

You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop.

That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.

The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes.

His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly, showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.

"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?”

The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask.

Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood.

“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.”

His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?”

"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"

You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."

His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.

Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling.

“Go and start the stream, honey.”

Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds.

With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.

"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."

You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree.

You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds.

“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?”

His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous.

But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.”

Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response.

A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—

His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort.

Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases.

His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back.

“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance.

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.”

Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact.

Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue.

Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin.

Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?”

God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you.

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.”

He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.

Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.”

His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.”

Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.”

Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.”

Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.”

“‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.”

He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.”

Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air.

“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.”

You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.

Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder. You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you.

You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling.

Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.”

Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound.

You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.

“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor.

“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.”

“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera.

“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease.

Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off.

He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes.

You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.”

“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.”

You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead.

“Well, good thing I’m here then.”

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viviennevermillion · 8 months

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: yayyy my first commission! 7.2k words of pure jing yuan fluff. want the entire fluff alphabet for your fave too or just a very long fic for any character of your choice? check my commission info! this took me 6 hours so reblogs would be appreciated! 👍

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: this jing yuan song

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

A = Affection

(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Jing Yuan first and foremost is someone who easily adapts to you. If you’re a rather reserved person who doesn’t initiate affection a lot, Jing Yuan is more likely to give you space and show his affection more subtly through quality time spent together, doing things you enjoy, or just idle moments spent in each other’s presence whilst doing your own stuff and him reaching for your hand every once in a while to show you how much he enjoys his bonding time with you and that he’s thinking of you even when he looks busy.

If you’re a very affectionate person, Jing Yuan definitely indulges you and makes sure to initiate affection equally as much as you do. He’ll often reach for you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing little affectionate kisses to your neck or your cheek. Jing Yuan also likes to make your day a little easier, surprising you after a long day of work with a nice meal he made for you. He lets you sit on his lap if you want to while he works, because he loves having you this close to him even when he can’t focus all of his attention on you.

Sometimes you’ll enter his office hesitantly, not wanting to bother or distract the busy general from his duty; but the doubts fade away as soon as he notices you and turns his head to look at you, greeting you with the warmest smile only reserved for you. Jing Yuan doesn’t hesitate to open his arms to you, letting out a relaxed sigh when you’re finally in his embrace. “These little visits are always the best part of my day”, he hums quietly and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You know then, he’s been missing your affections as much as you missed his.

B = Best friend

(What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jing Yuan’s friendship with you is a wild card. It could start with the two of you working together, just as a lot of his relationships with other people started. Or it could be something totally unexpected; like both of you reaching for the last copy of a book you were looking forward to read in a shop and deciding that you could just share it. Jing Yuan is a gentle soul and somehow, even after all he’s been through or perhaps because of it, he never closes the gate to his heart.

Where Dan Heng and Blade became reserved and distant after everything that transpired with the High Cloud Quintet, Jing Yuan found the resolve to value the people in his life even more and treasure his time with them, even if it might not last. Similarly, Jing Yuan as your best friend is attentive and selfless; he’s hyper-aware of what you add to his life and what he learns from you, something he believes is the essence of what we gain from social relationships, and he’s grateful for it. You could show up on his doorstep at 2am in the pouring rain, unsure of where else to go, and he would smile at you gently and invite you in; ready to give you the sense of safety and care you deserve. Jing Yuan is always trying his best to be kind and understanding but he will also definitely be the voice of reason whenever you need a reality check. He’s really good at finding the balance between validating your feelings and simultaneously disagreeing with you. Jing Yuan is easy to befriend and easy to get along with. He’s a good friend and you can be glad to have him by your side.

C = Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Jing Yuan loves cuddles! His favorites definitely are when both of you have cleared your schedules and can just lay down in bed and cuddle for a while. He loves being the big spoon and hugging you from behind. His fingertips would run up and down your arm and he’d end up playing with your fingers or massaging your hands. He’ll often press a kiss to your neck or the shell of your ear. Sometimes he asks you to turn your head to him a little more so he can reach your cheek with his lips.

Jing Yuan also enjoys when you rest your head against his chest. He sleeps with his shirt off and he enjoys the feeling of your cheek resting against his skin. Jing Yuan always has a comfortable warmth to him. He also gets very clingy in his sleep. You’d already be cuddling when he falls asleep but once he’s off in deep sleep, he’ll drape his leg over yours and try to pull you even closer into his chest. You had to wake him up from time to time to time to tell him to stop squishing you so much. He’ll have a bashful expression on his face and will apologize. “I’m sorry… seems I got a little carried away in my dreams”, he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “As cute as you are when you get clingy, unfortunately I can’t fall asleep if you squeeze me in your arms like that”, you sigh with a smile on your face, running a hand through his messy hair.

D = Domestic

(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

If Jing Yuan starts a relationship with you, it’s with the intention to make it last. He has been the General for a very long time now and he knows he’ll retire from this job eventually. And when he does, he wants you to still be there by his side to spend the rest of his days with him.

Fu Xuan has definitely jokingly referred to Jing Yuan as a househusband before because that’s how he acts around you, despite having a job and responsibilities. Jing Yuan is very good at cooking and you always love it when he makes something for you. You’re definitely looking forward to being able to eat his food for the rest of your life.

He does clean but that’s something he’d rather do together with you. He’ll often feel unmotivated to do it, although he gets up to clean anyway if it needs to be done, but he’ll prefer to take some time with you to throw on a nice song both of you like and clean together whilst conversing about whatever comes to mind. It can make an activity he usually dislikes actually fun for him.

There are a lot of domestic moments with Jing Yuan throughout your daily life that you definitely would not want to miss out on, be it keeping him company while he cooks; wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his back; or cleaning sessions being randomly interrupted by Jing Yuan asking you for a dance in the living room.

E = Ending

(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he breaks up with you, it would always be for your own good; either because your safety is compromised by associating with him or because he notices he’s no longer good for you. If he does plan to break up with you, Jing Yuan definitely spends a couple of sleepless nights trying to find the method that would hurt you the least; because even if he no longer sees a future for the two, you’ve still been an important part of his life for so long and it breaks his heart to see you cry.

He’d definitely do it during a time where neither of you have any plans for the rest of the day or even the next day. He’d sit you down and tells you there’s something he needs to talk about with you. He tries to keep it together but he can’t help tearing up when he tries to actually get the words out. He only hopes you will still be on good terms even after the breakup and that you will be happy again.

That aside, Jing Yuan handles breakups terribly. Not as horrible as some other characters (i.e. Blade), but everytime he meets you now, he’ll accidentally end up saying something sentimental that’s reminiscent of your time together and just makes both of you sad again or makes the whole situation awkward. Jing Yuan definitely wants to continue being your friend after you break up but he’s very bad at moving on so that might not be possible, leaving you with no choice but to keep him at a distance if you really want to move on.

F = Fiance(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Jing Yuan is all for commitment. If there’s anything Jing Yuan is good at, it’s commitment, so you have nothing to worry about in that department. He adores you with all his heart and he wants to keep you by his side for as long as possible.

So for a member of a long-life species, Jing Yuan doesn’t take very long to propose to you if he’s really sure about his future with you. His proposal is super sweet too. The ring he gets for you has so much symbolism and detail in it that you have to raise an eyebrow and ask him if he designed it personally at that point. Jing Yuan just chuckles and pats your head; telling you he just has a tendency to get carried away when it comes to you, especially when it’s about something as wonderful as marrying you.

He’d probably propose like 2-3 years into the relationship if there aren’t any outside matters that could prove to be an obstacle to your happily ever after. And he plans the proposal for weeks. He rents a location that means something to both of you and puts a lot of effort into the decorations to make sure the whole thing feels romantic. Think: swimming candles, fairy lights and lots of beautiful flowers. You know what’s coming the moment you see him standing there with a bouquet of white roses in his hands, smiling at you like you’re his whole world (you are) and just immediately pulling you into such a slow and loving kiss. But you decide to indulge and act surprised.

G = Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Very. In fact, he’s so gentle that you could yell at him and point a pitchfork at him and his first attempt at handling the situation would probably be to ask you what he has done to anger you this much and whether you’d like to sit down and talk about it. From the moment he met you he’s always been so polite and understanding towards you, that you couldn’t help but be draw to his gentle nature. Jing Yuan in general is very hard to hate and very easy to love.

Emotionally, his gentleness comes out the most when you’re feeling down. Everything about how he treats you then, from the feeling of his arm wrapped around you and his hand softly rubbing your shoulder to his quiet whispers about how everything is going to be okay are so soothing to you that it’s really hard to be with Jing Yuan and still feel devastated at the end of the day. Even if he can’t get rid of your pain or fear, he always manages to ease it enough to calm you down and have you get your well-deserved rest in his arms.

Physically, there’s very few moments where Jing Yuan isn’t gentle. Of course he has his times where his kisses become more passionate and eager, especially when he missed you or when he was worried about you and is relieved to see you alright; but most of the time Jing Yuan’s gestures are just really soft. He’s the type for littering your skin in butterfly kisses and holding you like you’re made of porcelain.

H = Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs. He definitely always hugs you as a greeting. Sometimes he playfully lifts you up and spins you around, pressing a kiss to your lips when he puts you down again. “Someone’s excited”, you smirk as he wraps his arms around you once more from behind and sways lightly with you to the movement of the wind, pressing his cheek against yours.

He also adores when you sit on his lap and wrap your legs and arms around him or hold his face in your hands and keep pressing kisses to his lips the way he does so often. Jing Yuan will then bury his face in your neck, gently nuzzling your skin or just close his eyes and bask in your love.

When you need his support, he also won’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace. He’ll rest his head on top of yours and rubs your back, letting you cry into his shoulder if you need to. He’ll hold you the whole night if you need him to.

Jing Yuan adores your hugs especially when you initiate them. The more excited you are about it, the better. He’s absolutely whipped if you just run towards him and jump into his arms because you’re just that happy to be reunited with him. It makes his heart flutter and he makes sure to let you know that. Another thing he’s weak for is when he sits at his desk and works and you hug him from behind while you’re standing behind him, your cheek leaned against his soft hair. Work can wait for a while then…

I = I love you

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

Fast. In fact, right when he confesses, because he only lets you know about his intent to date you if he’s sure he’s in love with you and wants you to stay by his side. Once he is, there’s nothing holding him back from telling you. He wants you to know how he feels about you and he feels like there’s a more stable foundation for your relationship if you’re certain that he’s serious about you and loves you with all his heart. Jing Yuan is not someone who lets worries or fear of rejection hold him back from being honest with you about his feelings.

He also tells you that he loves you whenever he feels like it. There’s many moments throughout the day where he just looks at you and is reminded exactly what it was about you that made him want to stay around for the rest of his life, and the words slip from his lips without even thinking; even if it’s about something super mundane or even silly. He also always says it back when you tell him you love him.

If he has what you have started to refer to as “Jing Yuan’s clingy 5 minutes”, he’ll just pull you into his lap and kiss you over and over again, whispering those 3 words you love to hear so much against your lips before he pulls you in for another kiss. He smiles against your lips and tells you he loves you more with every day that passes. If you ever doubt his love for you, he makes sure to really drive the point home and reassure you that you have his whole heart.

J = Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jing Yuan isn’t really a jealous person. He trusts you and he expects you to do the same. If he does get jealous it’s usually because there’s actually something wrong; either because his suspicions are correct or because you’ve been keeping him at a distance because of issues you haven’t addressed with him all whilst growing closer with someone else; even if there’s 0 romantic intent behind it.

Jing Yuan is mature enough not to let jealousy get the better of him. The only thing that’s different is that he looks after you with a worried and sad expression when you head off to meet the person he’s jealous of or sees you talking to him. He usually just needs some reassurance that everything is alright between you, which is why in the rare moments he does notice jealousy rising up within him, he seeks you out when you’re alone to talk to you about your feelings.

Usually it ends with an open discussion about the underlying problem, for example that something has happened in your life that made you worried about the future or that he has accidentally said something that hurt your feelings and you haven’t found out how to bring it up with him yet. Jing Yuan can talk everything out with you if you let him and once the problem is resolved, his feelings of jealousy are gone too. Overall, Jing Yuan getting actually jealous is super rare and when he does, he handles it really well and it doesn’t present a cause for relationship drama if you don’t let it.

K = Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

As said before, Jing Yuan’s kisses are usually gentle and very loving. A lot of times they’re the typical lazy morning kisses but all throughout the day. And he often prefers a lot of small butterfly kisses over straight up making out. He feels like that conveys the way you make his heart flutter a lot better. Jing Yuan always pulls you close when he kisses you.

His favorite places to kiss you include your lips and your neck. When he’s feeling playful, he often presses kisses to the corner of your mouth or picks at your lower lip with his, while he has a soft smile on his face. Jing Yuan’s lips are super soft and they always make you swoon. He loves to bury his face in your neck which often comes with repeatedly kissing the skin there and spoiling you with his affection. Another spot he often kisses are your fingers when he holds them in his hands like they’re the most delicate thing ever.

Jing Yuan himself loves kisses to his cheek. Just all of the idle moments of you passing him by and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek or telling him that you think he’s cute before doing this. Additionally, he’s a bit weak for when you sleep in his arms and wake up and you press a kiss to his chest before even opening your eyes because it’s right next to your face. He thinks you’re adorable. He instantly wraps his arms around you tighter and lets you wake up to his affections.

L = Little ones

(How are they around children?)

Jing Yuan would totally be up for having children with you if that’s something you want; whether it’s adopting them or having them yourself. I mean, at this point you’re practically already Yanqing’s parents. I always imagine Jing Yuan as a father to be kind of like Mufasa (without the tragic death). Like “Your son is awake”; “Before sunrise he’s your son”. And he’d definitely teach his kid a lot of life lessons that will make people say “Your father is a very wise man” if they ever tell it to someone else. Jing Yuan has a lot more wisdom than he realizes and when he passes it on, it tends to stay with his child until way into adulthood.

He also is totally the type to indulge and support his kid’s imagination. Like, they’d pull out their dolls or figurines and make up little stories with them and Jing Yuan would listen attentively and join them in playing; offering his own ideas. You’d observe them sitting on the floor of your kid’s bedroom, playing with the figurines. “Aw, this one fell into the mud and I can’t get it clean anymore… and it was brand new too, I haven’t even named it yet”, your child would say about the newest addition to their collection. “How about ‘Mr. Clean’ then?”, Jing Yuan suggests ironically. “That’s a horrible name”, you butt in before moving on with whatever you were doing before. “It’s not”, Jing Yuan insists, “they just don’t have taste.” “I heard that”, you call out from the other room, “don’t forget I picked you.”

M = Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Jing Yuan are a long endeavor and yet he always makes them feel way too short. Usually one of you wakes up slowly and is already kissing the other before even opening their eyes. Either it’s you turning your head to plant kisses on his chest or Jing Yuan searching for your lips in the dark. He loves when you wake up before him and kiss him awake. You’ll be pressing soft kisses to his lips and he comes to his senses and opens his mouth to get a taste of you first thing in the morning.

Jing Yuan’s mornings are lazy. He’s the type you have to pull out of bed by his arm because he keeps saying “just 10 more minutes” whilst trying to convince you to stay in his arms even if you need to get up for work. “How have you had this position for this long if you’re this irresponsible?”, you sigh and Jing Yuan stretches like a lion cub before dozing back off to sleep. You shake your head. He’s a hopeless case, you think. What eventually motivates him to get up is the fact that he misses your warmth so while you’re brushing your teeth or preparing breakfast, your sleepy boyfriend is slouching over you, clinging to you with his head resting against yours. “Jing Yuan, could you not put your entire weight on me? Jing Yuan?”, you sigh as you notice the dozing general had already fallen asleep again. You play with the thought of just shaking him awake but how could you when he mumbles how much he loves you and that he wants more kisses in his sleep?

N = Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

As I said, Jing Yuan has a habit of getting clingy while he’s asleep. Sometimes you’ll wake up to him squishing you in his embrace. He’ll try and fail to press kisses to your skin wherever he can reach; oftentimes just pressing his lips against your skin without the actual kissing. You think it’s the most adorable thing ever. It always makes you smile even though you have to push him away sometimes to be able to sleep yourself.

Sometimes, especially on the weekend, you and Jing Yuan stay up late and take a walk through the city or have a nice dinner at a restaurant together. He enjoys walking across the plazas with you when it’s so late that there’s hardly anyone on the street anymore and it’s just you, him, the stars above you and the idle sound of the water in the fountains or the trees swaying in the wind. Sometimes you’ll sit down on a bench reminiscing about some old memories you shared together or watching the constellations above. Or rather, you’re watching the constellations and halfway through Jing Yuan just starts looking at you instead. He has lived a long life and he has seen the stars over and over again but he could never get tired of seeing the love of his life and reaching out to hold your hand.

O = Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It’s not so much the fact that he doesn’t trust you with his past or feels doubtful you’ll see him the same way afterwards; it’s just that there’s a lot of things Jing Yuan hasn’t talked about with anyone in a long, long time. He needs to warm up to the idea of confiding in you and putting all cards on the table. In the beginning of the relationship, questions about his past will often be answered with very vague statements before Jing Yuan switches the topic to make it less awkward, which can be frustrating for you and may feel like he isn’t being truthful with you or purposefully withholding things.

But as time goes on he eventually notices he’s ready to share the whole truth with you and he finds that talking about it with you actually helps him make peace with the past. You’re relieved to know that his reserved demeanor when it came to topics he didn’t want to talk about had nothing to do with you personally and more with Jing Yuan needing time to speak about it at all. The deep conversations where you learn more about Jing Yuan’s past and his feelings in response to that usually happen when you’re cuddling at night. There comes a point in time where Jing Yuan feels comfortable enough that if you want to know something about him that’s still unclear to you, you only have to ask. Things get a lot easier from there on out.

P = Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

Jing Yuan is the most patient person you've ever met, which can actually be counterproductive in situations where you’re genuinely upset or angry. It’s very difficult to get an emotionally charged response out of him. Jing Yuan thinks distressing situations are best approached with a calm demeanor and civil conversations so he actually chooses to remain calm and practice restraint even if he ends up being angry or sad. Depending on your perspective on the whole thing, this has the potential to feel like he’s simply not as affected by the situation or doesn’t really care about an emotional outburst if you ever have one; but Jing Yuan is really just trying to calm you down and reassure you, which would be hard to do if he started impulsively responding to his emotions.

So even when Jing Yuan gets angry, it’s usually not visible unless he straight up, calmly, tells you he’s mad at you and he’ll need some time to sort this out. In general, Jing Yuan is someone who responds with sadness rather than anger to an upsetting situation. He doesn’t like himself when he gets angry and he understands that you’re upset too and he first and foremost wants both of you to be happy again. He does not want to make you feel worse.

As for things that do make him angry, even if he doesn’t show it on his face; it’s either you being reckless and putting yourself in a dangerous situation despite his pleas not to or when he can tell something is wrong and you have a problem with him but refuse to communicate with him about it. This can be frustrating for him and cause him to feel a little burnt out from the whole thing, which might make him withdraw for a while. Even though Jing Yuan’s seemingly never-ending patience can feel a little invalidating when you’re expecting an emotional reaction from him, most of the time it works in your favor and Jing Yuan is very good at keeping the peace in your relationship.

Q = Quizzes

(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Jing Yuan is a good listener and he’s attentive. He remembers a lot of details about you. Given how long he lives, he’s bound to have some of them slip out of his memory but they’re never truly gone. A century could pass and then he sees something that reminds him about a random detail you told him about yourself; something he would have expected himself to have forgotten long ago, and he can imagine the conversation that led to him learning this fact as vividly as if it was yesterday.

You’re often surprised when you witness this happening because sometimes Jing Yuan will bring up things even you forgot you ever told him. “You remembered this?”, you raise an eyebrow with a smile on your face. “Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are”, Jing Yuan shrugs and takes your hand into his, “then again, I’m also not. It’s a memory I share with you after all. So no wonder it stayed somewhere in my subconscious, waiting for the right time to emerge again.” “You’re so cheesy sometimes”, you laugh and ruffle his hair. “Isn’t that what made you fall for me?”, he teases and pulls you onto his lap; placing soft kisses on your neck again.

Oftentimes when Jing Yuan remembers things you told him you liked or enjoyed doing a while ago, this sparks gift ideas and date ideas in his head and he can’t wait to surprise you with the fact that he not only remembered this casual bit of information you told him, but he also went out of this way to get you a comfort food you didn’t have in a while or set up a nice afternoon for you based on something trivial you forgot you even mentioned.

R = Remember

(What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

There’s so many moments in your relationship that Jing Yuan wouldn’t trade for the world and they’re memories he deeply values and treasures. But if he had to pick; it’d probably be a moment that recurs every now and then. He can’t possibly pick a single memory as a favorite for one of the most important bonds he’s ever had, so what truly are his favorite moments in your relationship are seeing each other again; whether it was after being apart for days or just a couple of hours. Having you jump into his arms or cupping his cheeks to press your lips to his, telling him that you missed him and that you just had to come see him.

They’re the moments you reunite after battle, the moments you slip into bed with him for cuddles and kisses after both of you have been stressed for the past few days and the moments when he’s supposed to be working and you visit him because you just craved his affection that much. They’re the moments after arguments, when everything has been forgiven and forgotten and he’s back in your arms, kissing you deeply as if he’s been starving from your lack of affection and they’re the moments when he thought he might have lost you and there you are; kissing him breathless like you’ve been apart for a thousand years.

S = Security

(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Jing Yuan is very protective of you. He understands if you want to fight alongside him but he’s a General and most of the time his mindset is that he can handle these things himself. Losing you would be the worst thing he could imagine, so the urge to keep you safe is what pushes him beyond his limits on the battlefield. It doesn’t make him careless but it does make you worry that he’ll compromise his own safety for yours. Jing Yuan would never leave you behind even if it seemed like he couldn’t win a battle at all odds. He’d protect you even if he’d have to pay with his life.

Additionally, Jing Yuan gets protective when someone else tries to hurt you with words or rain on your parade or when you’re uncomfortable in a situation. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up for you and give someone a piece of his mind if they dare to bother you. If a situation is distressing for you, he makes sure to lead you away to a place where you feel safer and can gather yourself in the comfort of his arms.

Jing Yuan absolutely loves when you’re protective of him. The whole situation could have the vibe of an angry chihuahua trying to defend godzilla from a drunk man with a gun and Jing Yuan would still think you’re a dream come true. He might not be in danger at all and perfectly capable of handling the situation himself but seeing you so serious about keeping him safe and comfortable gets his heart to beat faster. He makes a mental note to pay you back for that with his affection later.

T = Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

The answer is; a lot of effort. After you’ve been together for a long time it’s a little lost on you how in the world Jing Yuan still manages to come up with so many meaningful dates and gifts for you but you’re certainly not complaining. He loves you with all his heart and love has the tendency to make Jing Yuan surprisingly creative.

He makes sure to take you out on a date at least once a month even if you’ve been married for a hundred years, he always celebrates your anniversary every year and gives you gifts. And all of this is so well thought out that sometimes you feel a little bad for not having as many ideas like that to surprise him with. But Jing Yuan is more of a giver in a committed relationship. He’s at his happiest not when he receives affection from you but when he sees your reactions to the things he does for you. When he buys a gift or plans an anniversary, he’s already imagining your smile or your grateful kisses or the compliments that slip from your lips between them when he surprises you with the final result and it makes his heart beat faster and makes him giddy and excited internally even if you’ve been together for years.

For Jing Yuan, all of that is worth every bit of effort. He loves making you feel loved and happy. He doesn’t feel like any gift or gesture could ever convey the full extent of his feelings for you and your importance in his life but he will try nonetheless.

U = Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

For one, Jing Yuan worries too much. He doesn’t restrict you in any of your choices but he doesn’t work well with a reckless person. He has lost so many people as the centuries went by and he feels so deeply for you that he can’t sleep without knowing you’re home or at least in a safe place. If you go out late in the evening and you don’t text him when you’re back home or back at the hotel etc.; Jing Yuan does not sleep. If this is a regular occurrence, the man might ironically end up with insomnia. Instead of settling on the fact that you probably just forgot to tell him and or passed out in bed from exhaustion and are sleeping soundly, his mind sometimes tends to catastrophize which is detrimental to his psychological well-being if it carries on for long enough. Jing Yuan needs a person who will tell him everything is alright before they go to sleep at night and takes the time to inform him when they’re late.

Additionally, Jing Yuan often fails to realize when you need your space. Arguments are something that stress him a lot and continuously for as long as they last, so he’s the type of person who’d rather resolve them immediately. Jing Yuan doesn’t need space when you’re fighting, he needs to solve the problem and make sure he’s back on good terms with you. Sometimes the fact that you might be someone who doesn’t approach conflict like that flies over his head. He thinks he can talk everything out with you immediately and sometimes he unintentionally makes it worse with that.

V = Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

The man has birds in his hair. I think this is all you need to know to answer that question. He cares enough to look presentable at his job but other than that, looks don’t matter to him.

However, he does remember when he wears an outfit that makes you want to kiss him over and over again or tries out a hairstyle that gets you to swoon over him and he will try to do this more often because he loves your reaction to it. Having you call him pretty or stunning is an added bonus to the affection he already gets from you but it certainly boosts his mood and makes him soft.

W = Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh, definitely. Once you’re a part of Jing Yuan’s life and have been this close to him, he’s very emotionally over-attached. Not to an unhealthy degree and he doesn’t really act on it, but emotionally he definitely pines for you long after your relationship has ended. You know those people who keep having an inkling of feelings for someone even after not talking to them in a decade which can re-ignite into a flame just by seeing you again? That’s Jing Yuan. That’s what he’s like.

That’s why despite the fact that he doesn’t feel like he has to hide his feelings from you before getting together with you, he waits to actively approach you or initiate anything until he’s certain that what you have can last because he is aware that he has these tendencies and he knows it’s not good for himself if it turns out that your relationship won’t work out. So that’s why it can still take quite some time to finally make things official with Jing Yuan.

He’d absolutely feel incomplete without you and that’s an experience he dreads if your relationship ever threatens to fail, because he knows he’ll be stuck with it for a long, long time.

X = Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

This is another flaw to him when it comes to romance, but if he’s not dating you yet, he has a tendency to delude himself a little bit. For example, imagine you’re traveling for two months and you promise to go on a date with him once you’re back to the Xianzhou. In those two months Jing Yuan will probably have played every single scenario about how this date could potentially go in his head without even realizing and sometimes that makes him lose touch with reality a little bit. Not to an extent where the way he now behaves towards you drives you away from him but rather there’s a sudden change in the way he interacts with you from your perspective.

He’s not overbearing but he may surprise you with suddenly being a lot more comfortable and open with you than you expected him to be at this point in time. Like, you’ll be on polite speaking terms and occasionally flirt a bit when you leave and you come back to Jing Yuan having gained the comfort and feeling of closeness with you that he now talks to you like you’re his good friend he’s been through hell with and it’s a shift that catches you off-guard. This might actually work in your favor if you have a huge crush on him but if it feels too weird, you might need to ask him to take things slow. He’ll listen and apologize for getting a little too ahead of himself.

Y = Yuck

(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Aside from the obvious things like cheating or the recklessness I previously talked about, I feel like one thing Jing Yuan would really struggle with is someone who does not communicate properly with him or sends him mixed signals. He’d rather have you yelling at him or venting your frustrations to him in an emotional outburst, because that is something he can actually approach, than for you to just not tell him what’s bothering you even though something clearly is or you not being truthful with him about things in your relationship. Jing Yuan wants a relationship where you two can be comfortable and fully open with one another and that does not work if he has to play guessing games all the time about what’s going on in your head even after he asks you about it. Jing Yuan is a “let’s talk it out” kind of guy and that’s his first approach to resolving conflict so when that’s not an option he doesn’t really know how to deal with it and he feels a little unsteady about what’s supposed to happen next. Jing Yuan is always open to correcting his mistakes or meeting you halfway when anything he did hurt your feelings but he absolutely cannot deal with someone who does not bring these things up to him until they essentially blow up in his face.

He’d also hate feeling like a trophy boyfriend. Yes he’s probably pretty popular and has quite a few admirers since he’s also such an important public figure and he’s undeniably handsome; and he’s happy and feels honored when you are genuinely proud to be with him and hype him up, but if he finds himself in a social situation where he feels like he’s just there to for you to impress people with your relationship or he hears you talk about how handsome he is to someone else and brag about it like you won him in the lottery, that’s something that would make him really uncomfortable.

Z = Zzz

(What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

A lot of these I’ve already touched upon. Mostly getting very clingy while he’s asleep and squeezing you in his arms, prompting you to push him off you a little bit so you can sleep comfortably as well. When he’s just in a light state of sleep he tends to mumble about how much he loves you and that he wants cuddles and kisses.

Sometimes sleeping next to Jing Yuan can be challenging because he has his clingy times but he also has times where he suddenly takes up all the space in the bed and hogs all the blankets and pillows and you have to pull them out of his grabby hands, cursing him internally for still having so much strength even whilst being sound asleep. He does not wake up from that. Surprisingly, however, he wakes up immediately when you leave the room. It’s like he senses you’re not there with him any more and his eyes open to see light in the bathroom or the kitchen. He knows you’ll be right back so he waits for you to return before going back to sleep. You’re surprised to find him awake every time this happens. As soon as you’re back in bed, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you again and nuzzles your neck affectionately. “I missed you”, he mumbles with a sleepy voice. “I’ve been gone for 5 minutes”, you whisper back and chuckle. He doesn’t reply as he has already dozed off again but he does smile when you press a good night kiss to his forehead.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #jing yuan x reader #hsr #honkai star rail fanfiction #jing yuan headcanons #jing yuan x you #jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan fluff #jing yuan fanfiction

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chrollohearttags · 10 months

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 • 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞

when you ask your best friend to tag along for an errand run, the day becomes far more fun than intended. An outing filled with laughs, mischief (and a whole lot of flirting) turns into something far more adventurous than either of you expect. With friends like these, who would ever need a lover again?!

content warning and themes: college au, plus size black fem reader, banter and humor, fluff, exhibitionism, mentions of car sex, mentions of alcohol, fingering, handjob, nipple play, slight spit play, him and the reader are super close, lots of sexual tension between them, praise kink (fuck does he exploit it too), slapping, squirting, backshots, pet names, 69, (pretty girl, mama, baby cakes, my love, daddy is used a few times and eren def has a kink for that shit), mutual masturbation, creampie

word count: 8.5K

📝: this lovely commission was requested by @thesilenthill and I have to thank them so much for entrusting this piece to me and letting me have creative control. This was waaay more fun than it should have been but I enjoyed this and I hope that you do as well! 🫶🏾

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Saturday: a day synonymous with fun, relaxation and rest for most. Recharging from the strenuous week. But for (y/n) (l/n), the everyday hustle and bustle of work never ceased. As a full time college student who sold baked goods on the side, you were the epitome of a girl boss. Always making something happen and getting things done all by your lonesome. Still, it didn’t hurt to have some companionship and assistance sometimes..hence why you were sitting at the kitchen table..thick curls atop your head held back by a pink bandana as you looked at the printouts of all your orders splayed out and ready to be dispensed around campus to faculty and students alike. Having spent all morning baking up the sweet treats. You had quite the reputation for your delectable pastries and prompt delivery. So you had to get a move on and get them all out. However, there were a few things that needed to be added prior to that happening so a store run to a few nearby shops was crucial. Walmart for the decorations, Michael’s for the packaging and a bank run for all your earnings. Not too hectic of an expedition but it’d be a whole lot easier and exciting if you had some company while doing so. That’s why you were thrilled when you’d look down to see your phone illuminating and buzzing against the surface, only to see the one person you were hoping would call and you’d never answered a FaceTime faster!

“Good morning, pretty girl! How’s my beautiful best friend doing?”

pearly white teeth and glazed green eyes glared back at you through the screen. That semi-tanned, bare skin glistening underneath the sunlight..probably from a morning run and his long locks tied into its signature style of a half bun and the rest hanging; it was none other than the man you had called your best friend since high school..

“I’m doing great, baby cakes! You’re up before noon, I see. Coach ‘get on your ass again?”

“When isn’t that lil’ sawed off son of a bitch yelling at me? You know the drill sergeant lives to torment the whole team.”

Eren Jaeger: sophomore at St. Maria University, along with yourself and point guard on the men’s basketball team. Here on a full ride athletic scholarship and a total smartass. Always staying in hot water with head coach Ackerman; mostly due in part to his slick mouth and childish antics. Almost always something referring to his height. But he was the best damn player that team had ever gotten. Especially since he led them to a championship with his first year on the team. Needless to say, his spot was solidified. But that wasn’t going to stop his coach from making sure he trained his ass off! Hence why he was up, getting in a morning run. More than likely against his will. But so long as he had his favorite person to chat with, he was good. As per usual, he wasn’t shocked that you answered on the first ring. He knew you were busy doing one thing or another. Hardly ever sleeping, if at all. If it wasn’t some assignment to help maintain that 4.2 GPA or stay atop the dean’s list, you were baking your little behind off and running orders around to the various dorms. You made a pretty good grip and rightfully so, because your cupcakes and cookies were too goddamn good! He would eat himself sick from the freebies you’d give him, hence why he stayed away during the season because he had no restraint. But today, he wanted nothing more than to hang out with his (y/n) and no one else! And not a moment too soon, because you sort of needed his help!

“Well you know you be asking for it, ‘Ren. You can not tell the head coach that he’s fun sized. No wonder that man hates you.” Both of you blurting out into laughter before you could even get the words out. There truly was never a dull moment with this doofus. But that’s what you loved about him, he always kept you entertained. “Anyways! While you’re messing with people...I called to see what you were up to. I’m tryna hang out with my best friend today. Always too busy for lil’ ol’ me. Got her own business and shit now, she doesn’t have time for small fries anymore.” Glaring off into the camera as if he were pouting and making you feel bad. To which you’d only smack your lips and roll your eyes in response. “Oh, you’re so dramatic. Sir, your ass was just here yesterday. Eating all my damn leftover frosting.” “What?! It was good..and I needed to taste test, ‘make sure it wasn’t poisoned.” He truly was a handful when he wanted to be.

“Well I need your help again. Wanna come run some errands with me? I gotta do deliveries today and I need some more packaging stuff to put them in. Unless you don’t have—“

“Say it and I’ll hang up right now. For my favorite girl, imma make time. Now get dressed and I’ll be over there in about an hour.”

it’s always so cute how he got behind you. He would blow off everyone else..bail out on dates, not pick up his phone for his other friends or teammates..but not (y/n). You were the only one he'd drop anything he was doing and come running. Needless to say, it made many of your other female peers despise you and led a lot to believe that the two of you were dating. But it was nothing of the sort. That was your homie and nothing else. You had held each other down since freshman year of high school and never changed up, not once. With no plans to either. Still, it didn’t help either of your cases when you flirted like lovers and even playfully kissed from time to time. Even making the occasional sexual advances toward one another. Or when the two of you would go out clubbing; him with a drink in his hand and the other on your ass as you threw it back on him to Megan or Moneybagg. And with you being a bigger girl, he’d oftentimes get whispers that there’s no way he could handle all of that. That he wasn’t man enough to know what to do with a girl like you. But he did..mounted behind you as he let you twerk on him. He’d keep that stupid grin on his face all the way until the next day, thinking about it too! Regardless, you had a bond that couldn’t be broken and you wanted to spend every second you could together. As basketball season would be back soon and your academics would be keeping you away. So you’d declare the call over, hanging up and heading to get ready. You’d stack the receipts neatly into a pile before getting up and going to go shower. As well as get yourself ready for the day. And something told you..it was going to be one you’d never forget!

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an hour or so passed and as promised, Eren was at the front entrance of your off campus apartment. Only a mere mile away from the school itself. Pulling up in his red and black Camaro that he had so appropriately nicknamed Venom. You could hear him arriving well before you even spotted him because the pipes were so loud, in addition to the speakers thudding from the trunk. He was a show off in every aspect of the word. Whether on or off the court. But alas, you were so happy to see him and when you came out, dressed in that white biker shorts and tube top set that hugged all your curves just right; including the tummy, hips and ass. The titties were sitting just right too. Along with a crossbody bag and Nikes; hair and nails laced as always; your thick, natural curls bouncing around ..and makeup done, he was smitten. Smiling from ear to ear at the sight. “My best friend so damn fine..look at you.” And you’d mirror his sentiment. The six foot three, tanned ball player in shorts, a baseball jersey with a wife beater underneath, bucket hat and Dunks with a gold wristwatch. Looking good as fuck but that was always. It was no wonder half the campus was after him. Greeting you with open arms and your signature handshake, before pulling you back into a hug. One where he gripped the fat of your ass in the process..something that you didn’t mind one bit! It was then that you’d catch a whiff of his Dior cologne. Making you nearly fall to your knees right there in the parking lot. And truthfully, he didn’t even want to stop touching you. Hands resting on your back until you spoke.

“That’s all you, babyboy. Ready to go?”

“Of course..let’s get up outta here.”

but not before he shuffled around to the passenger’s side to open the door for you. To which you’d repay him with a soft peck to the cheek. He was so sweet and chivalrous, it was adorable. Once he made sure you were secure, he’d sprint to his respective side and the two of you were set for take off. Peeling from the parking lot, you guys were ready for the day ahead. Whilst you were sitting pretty in his passenger seat, Eren began to ask you some questions about what all you needed to do and where to go. “That’s all?! You should’ve called me sooner. We could’ve been left.” “And have Coach Ackerman mad at me for interrupting your conditioning? Hell nah. Besides, we have plenty of time. I just finished the last batch so they’ll be fine. Also, now that you’re done, we have more time to hang out.” Which seemed to be the only thing he wanted to hear. Perking up along with forming a grin across his face, Eren continued driving along..content and satisfied as long as you were by his side. “So you were waiting for me? That’s so sweet.” Because whether it was a party or the pastry section of the store, you guys would always find a way to make it fun and interesting. With no telling what type of adventures you’d get into it. “Duh. Who else is gonna keep me entertained?” “You mean get you in trouble?” “That too, shit..” Ready for whatever the day may bring..the whole time though, you couldn’t help but notice that Eren kept stealing glances of you, more so than usual. Looking over as you sang along to whatever was on his playlist. “Mmm, I don’t mind though. You know I love trouble.” Applying your lip gloss and adjusting your outfit with that sexy smirk on your face. And thus, the flirting commenced. He couldn’t help but stare when you were so gorgeous. That body was something serious and he knew it wasn’t right because you were his best friend, but damn, he was having some thoughts he shouldn’t have after that last remark. Even spacing out as you were talking; letting his mind wander to farther..more inappropriate places. That was until you broke his trance!

“ ‘Rennn, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. So where are we going first?”

to which you’d respond with Michael’s and he’d do exactly that. Maneuvering out in and out traffic, switching lanes with one hand on the wheel. It was something so attractive about him doing the most simple of things. So much so, it had you chewing at your lip. You wanted to mess with him, especially seeing his cheeks burning red. “You alright, babyboy? Are you good?” Nodding gently in response. And it wasn’t for a lack of confidence to say these things. You were closer than anyone so a filter didn’t exist and you’d gladly reveal your thoughts. The two of you constantly made jokes about what you'd do to the other. Even if it never led to anything. ‘You know I’ll fold your pretty ass up, right? Stop playing with me, (y/n).’ Saying it constantly after you teased him far too long. More often than not because you’d make a comment or brush up on his thighs. ‘Then quit talking and do it. I’m trying to see what you got.’ You even recalled one time where he FaceTimed you after practice and he had just gotten out of the shower. Leading you to tell him to drop his towel so you could get a peak and he nearly did it; rubbing up on his tattooed chest and raking his fingers through his wet hair. That’s just the type of bond you had! However, any more inappropriate ideas or behavior would have to wait as after a few turns and a red light, you guys arrived at your destination. Unbuckling the seatbelts and grabbing your phones, as well as your purse, the two of you began your journey inside of the infamous craft store. Walking extremely close and even trying to tickle you playfully as you walked up towards the entrance. Which he held the door open for you to. Once inside, he took in the sights and crisp air. This most certainly wasn’t his speed by a long shot. His mom would often tell him during their daily phone calls about her trips to the place back home because she was doing some extreme couponing and decided to stock up on Halloween and Christmas decorations during the summer. He had not the first clue what this place sold or entailed but seeing the sheer happiness on your face was all he needed!

“Look! These cupcake boxes are so pretty! And this ribbon, ugh! I love it.” Your enthusiasm drew a laugh from Eren as he watched from the side. “Look at you, getting all excited..so cute.” Truthfully, it had his heart fluttering. Seeing you in a good mood made him feel better. And gave him an excuse to pick on you. “Like an old ass lady.” Prompting you to smack your lips at him. “You’re just being a hater.” Which he’d deny, playfully pouting his lips and shaking his head. “Not true. I’m just making an observation..” also taking the opportunity to steal a glance at your ass you bent over to retrieve some wrapping paper. Being your best friend was one thing but he was a man before anything. Even the smallest and most minor actions from you made him nervous sometimes. He didn’t know how to deal with his obvious emotions for you. Nonetheless, he’d aimlessly and happily follow you around the store..letting you pick up whatever and place it into your basket. By the time you finished, you had a cart full and he had to carry it for you. Or rather, he wanted to. Once you reached the counter, he’d surprise you again by paying for the items, which came to a nearly one hundred total. A drop in the bucket to the son of a doctor but still, he didn’t have to. You were perfectly fine with taking care of it. That’s just how he was when it came to you though. He’d do anything for his best friend and to see that beautiful smile.. “..thank you, ‘Ren. You didn’t have to do that though. I’m good.” As per usual though, he’d dismiss you by sucking his teeth and paying you no mind. He was always taught to never let a woman pay for her things in the presence of a man. That’s just how he operated. Which was a far cry from the losers you had been on dates with that tried to ditch out at the last minute. Sometimes, he really was the only guy you could tolerate and enjoy. With your bags in tow, Eren carried them to the car, placing them in the backseat before sliding around to open your door for you. Another subconscious habit of his that really made your heart flutter and your feelings for him increase exponentially. “Anyways, where are we heading next? Just say the word.” more than willing to do whatever it took to keep a smile on your face. Little did you know just how far he would go to fulfill that promise..

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵

The day would ensue as normal; the two of you picking up all of the necessary items you needed..taking a trip to Walmart that was nothing short of adventurous. Pushing him around in the cart, taking silly Snapchat and TikTok videos together. You guys were having a hell of a time. During the day, you couldn’t help but to notice how clingy he had been..constantly feeling you up and even coiling his hand around your waist while standing in line. “Get off of me, you’ gone have people thinking you're my man.” Jokingly brushing him off of you but he was very serious. “Fuck you mean? I am your man. We’re married.” Not long after that, you circled back around campus to make all of your deliveries and of course, your lovely assistant was more than happy to help you ensure that each order was filled and the customers were satisfied. It was the most fun you had ever had since opening up shop. Needless to say, the day was a success and now, the two of you were closing it out with a much needed celebratory dinner at one of your favorite spots in town..

“Ren, my love. I don’t know how I could ever thank you for helping me today. You really came through for me..I don’t know if I would’ve been able to make all of those deliveries by myself. You’re a lifesaver.”

(Y/N) was currently sitting directly across from Eren in a booth tucked off in the back of the place. You were nursing a margarita as you guys awaited your orders. It had been quite a long and eventful day so it felt good to wind down, especially with your favorite person. But it did no good to thank him because he was not trying to hear any talks of repayment or reciprocation when it was all but second nature to him. You honestly didn’t owe him a thing. Especially considering the fact that he was the one wanting to hang out with you. Taking another sip of his Coke, he’d do as per usual and dismiss you with a wave. Refraining from any alcoholic drinks as he was the driver. “You ain’t gotta thank me at all. I already told you, gorgeous..for you? I’ll do whatever.” Causing a barrage of butterflies to swarm in your stomach. If it were even remotely possible, your face would be beet red right now! But alas, he had just covered for you when you’d flash him a smile and reach out for his hand. “I’m a lucky girl. I don’t think too many people can say that they have a best friend as amazing as mine.” “Or as handsome, don’t forget that.” He’d utter playfully; rubbing on his imaginary beard and winking. He truly was a character! Suddenly, the waitress would return with two small bowls holding ice cream sundaes, which was what you had been waiting on. Of course, the girl couldn’t stop staring at Eren, nervously trying to maneuver around…the two of you dove spoon first into the sweet treat, you’d continue your conversation and toying with him.

“You know, one of these days..I think one of these girls is gon’ snatch you up from me. You’ve been getting looks all day.” Which he dismissed as always..for someone so good looking, he was incredibly humble and bashful. You’d think that he was just downplaying his attractiveness but sometimes, he really didn’t see what everyone else did. Especially what you saw. Outstretching a tattooed arm with his gold watch brushing the table, he’d simply continue eating; only smirking a bit without making eye contact with you. “Well I’m not worried about ‘em. I ain’t even interested, honestly. Besides, they can’t do shit for me.” Which was crazy because some of them were insanely beautiful; thick and curvy with a lot of ass, some with slender model bodies that looked like they resided in the gym and others, who were probably cheerleaders or dancers. More so suited to be his type. But it was just one thing they were all missing:

“They’re not you so what the hell do I want with them?” Meaning every single word of what he said. Perhaps you guys weren’t dating or even thinking of a relationship but he constantly made it clear that you were the only woman he wanted in his presence. However, you were afraid if you kept lingering around, he’d never get a girlfriend because everyone would assume that you were his lady. Which wasn’t fair. “Eren. Now some of them were probably really nice and you won’t even give them a chance.” “Sure won’t. The last girl I ‘dated’, tried to steal from me and then cried to get out of it. The other one? Fucked my teammate two days after we had sex. I’m good, trust me. No offense but these bitches can’t even get a handshake out of me at this point. Leave me alone.” Prompting you to laugh, which you felt awful about but his expression was so funny. He wasn’t the type to make a huge fuss out of things but he didn’t tolerate bullshit well either. It took twice for him to get burned to never play near the fire again. Truth be told, he didn’t need those types of problems in his life. Basketball was important and he wasn’t about to let some sleazy homie hopper jeopardize it. Not only that, it did him no good to have a woman in his bed when all he could think about was you being there. Even so, he’d only cross that line if you wanted to. Especially considering that if he voiced all of the perverse thoughts that ran through his head on a daily, he didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. Besides, you guys were extremely comfortable with one another.

“Enough about me though. Since we’re all in people’s business..what happened between you and dude from the football team? You never talked about him.” Something about the mention made you tense up and want to punch the wall. The defensive lineman you went on a date with a few weeks back was strange to say the least. “Because there ain’t shit to talk about. He pissed me off.” But for all of your grilling and interrogation, he wanted to do the same and hear this story. Even being the petty little brat he was and moving over to your side of the booth to listen. Sometimes, he truly was aggravating! “No no, (y/n). Please share with the class. I gotta hear this.” And since it was obvious he wasn’t moving, you’d sigh and tell him how the guy took you out to go see a movie, to dinner at some really cool restaurant and the evening was going well enough until it wasn’t. And with the more that margarita began to infiltrate your system, the less of a filter you had.. “..I knew he wanted to fuck the whole night, it was the only reason he was pressing me so hard anyways and honestly, he was pretty cute so I didn’t mind. He had been bragging about how he was going to do this and that to it so I decided to test him. We ended up at his place and let me tell you..worst five minutes of my life. Didn’t last one round, couldn’t find the clit..started shaking when I tried to give him..you get the picture. I got my shit, left and blocked his number. I was so mad.” But your best friend was intrigued to say the least. Smirking and laughing because he just always knew you were a problem that many dudes couldn’t handle. Hence why he’d always find it when they’d approach him, asking for your number or to hook them up. You were even more selective than he was! “Ooh (y/n)…you a lil freak, huh? I’m scared of you.” Making you gently push him away in the process. That truly wasn’t even your style to do a ton of hookups or even date often but you figured you’d give that loser a chance, only for him to blow it. Thus proving your point..

“Oh hush. You know I’m not like that. But I don’t think I’ll be wasting my time again. I think I’m cool off of men for good.” But it seemed that Eren had the perfect solution to solve both of your problems. “Damn shame, honestly. You deserve better than that..I mean, I could do a better job.” It was painfully obvious to him that neither of you had the slightest interest in any other person, whether for dating or hookups. You spent the majority of your time together anyways. So why not have a little fun..together? “..oh? Is that right?” “You’ll see..” At least you could try and experiment with a person you trusted. The opportune moment would present itself when you took another spoonful of your ice cream and a single droplet just so happened to trickle down onto your chest! Almost as if it were too perfect! “Oh, damnit.” Trying to catch it before it stained your white top. But there was no napkin required when suddenly, you’d find Eren’s face smashed between your breasts, slurping up the trail of liquid and flicking his tongue between them. Completely catching you off guard! Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling or that it was so uncommon for the two of you to touch like this..but because he had done it around all of these people!

“Eren, what the hell are you doing?!” Your voice shrieking into a high pitched whisper. Although you were trying not to laugh mostly; feeling slightly ticklish at the sensation. Not to mention a bit turned on…

“What? I was just helping..that’s all.” Stating so long after any remnants of the confectionery was cleaned up. His lips tracing against your skin and eventually, his hands joined them. You couldn’t believe that this was happening and right here in a restaurant nonetheless. Luckily, you were in a booth tucked towards the back of the establishment..away from potentially prying eyes and muddled in the background of the dozens of other patrons..lost in menial conversation and laughter. Too busy to pay attention to anyone other than themselves..which was perfect for Eren! Who was currently groping on your breasts, seemingly unable to pull away. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d smirk; keeping an eye out for anyone that may be nearing your table. For now, the coast was clear and you two were free to continue your deviance. “I mean..that is what friends are for, right? Helping each other out?” Taunting and teasing you whilst gently massaging your plump tits..slowly pulling your top down and exposing your nipples to the cool air. All the while, you couldn’t help but to stare down at him..letting out soft huffs along with fluttering eyes. He would’ve never done something so lecherous and naughty with another girl. He barely even felt compelled to give them a kiss after the date but with the desire for you growing by the second and the constant talks of seducing one another, he figured there was no time like the present to put such a statement to the test. “Any of your little boyfriends ever done something like this?” Shaking your head, you’d let out a gentle whimper as Eren’s tongue delicately flicked around your swollen brown buds; nimble, perfectly manicured fingers cupping underneath those beautiful mounds. “Mmhmm no.” Shooting you a wink before taking each nipple between his fingertips and squeezing. “Then there’s a first time for everything, huh?” He knew that you were the type of woman that adored spontaneity; oftentimes confiding in him the things that you craved for your next relationship and what you’d do once you got your person..more so specifically, how nasty you’d get for them. You loved when a man took initiative to surprise and sweep you off of your feet. To do something fun and exciting..the type that would undoubtedly on a whim, take you on a day trip out of town and do something fun. Or the type to suck your titties and finger you in the middle of a restaurant! Anything to keep the thrill going..

“ ‘Ren…we’re gonna get caught. Oh my gosh—“ “that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Besides, it’s what you wanted..” all bets and consequences with you around. Suddenly, you’d find yourself caught off guard yet again when he slipped a set of digits into your shorts, and began to massage those obviously soaked folds. Even managing to push one inside of you and pump; making you throw a hand over your mouth in an attempt to pacify your moans. The sounds of sloppy, wet kisses, your sloshing juices and his breath could be heard only faintly through the thumping, upbeat music and various voices. You two were lost in your own world as well..actually doing what you had so long sought after and that was claiming one another’s bodies. But you couldn’t let loose the way you desperately desired. Just then, you’d notice the waitress making her way back over to your area and you’d quickly pat Eren’s shoulder to stop him. To which he’d withdraw; rising back upright and helping you adjust your shirt but not before allowing you to lick your own flavor from his fingers. All with the promise of letting him do whatever once you guys got out of here. And he planned to do exactly that….and give you a night you’d soon never forget!

page break (and partial time skip)

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this—oh fuck..”

“Shit, can’t believe we’ve waited this long…”

having made it out of the public eye and nighttime skies, back in the comfort of his apartment, where you were free to do as you pleased. Starting with a brief makeout session in the car..kissing up on his neck and fondling his clothes crotch as he drove through the city. Maneuvering throughout the traffic as he tried to contain his hard on, that was growing far more erect with each passing moment. Even jerking him off from the passenger seat when it came to a standstill downtown. Finally, you’d find yourself on his bed..legs parted and partially nude because he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. Still exchanging slow tongue kisses to the sound of music faintly thumping from his mounted TV. He was still fixated on those big titties as he circulated his thumbs over them. Meanwhile, your palm was still clutching his exposed cock; working his shaft between it as he hovered over you. The realization of what was taking place had set in for both (y/n) and Eren. Honestly, neither of you held a single regret. Whatever happened behind these four walls tonight was you guys’ business and yours alone.

“Lay back f’r me, pretty girl. I wanna see you play with yourself.”

words you never thought to hear coming from your best friend of eight years’ mouth. But truthfully, it wasn’t the first time you had done so. Lying in bed at night, touching yourself to the thought of him inside of you. Pinning your legs back and fucking you all types of crazy. Something you’d never admit out loud but now, nothing was off limits. But alas, you’d do as he asked..bending those thick legs and placing them onto the bed before spreading them as far as they could go. You’d run a hand down your torso and tummy until you reached that plump little pussy, which you parted with two fingers that you had soaked with your own spit. You were so damn sexy to him and it was like a dream turned reality that he had you all to himself. However, there was a reason for his little set of instructions, as he plans to utilize it later on. Before he touched you any further, he needed to know what made you tick, what turned you on and of course, everything he needed to please you. He wanted this first time between you guys to be semi-special because he wanted there to be a next! To be able to make love to you as many times as he liked, even if no formidable romantic relationship came out of it and you guys remained nothing more than friends . He just wanted you to be satisfied…

“..tell me all that you said in the car. All that nasty shit you wanted me to do..” from your tamest of demands to your filthiest, freakiest desires, he was all ears. Setting his ego aside and letting his partner communicate was important to him. He could do all of these intricate moves; touching you here, licking you there but if it wasn’t what got you going then there was no point in you guys taking this step! It seemed awkward but it was necessary. Instead, he’d join you on the mattress as you rubbed on that swollen clit and edged himself along, listening to your demands. From how you liked things just a little rough; being slapped or choked…how giving head got your pussy wetter than receiving sometimes and that you obviously loved having your nipples sucked on. Most importantly, you liked being on top but absolutely loved, being controlled and dominated a bit. It was something about a man being able to handle you like a weightless rag doll that you got you off! “You think you can handle that?” Jokingly stating but he wasn’t deterred at all. Rather, he was more determined than ever. He had no idea his best friend was so nasty. And with all of that pertinent information, Eren knew exactly what had to be done..

“Yeah..come sit on my fucking face.”

demanding as he lied flat against the mattress with his dick standing perfectly erect. You thought he was crazy at first but he mirrored your sentiment. Because too became more aroused when pleasing his partner. It may have been a bit of an obsession even, but he loved eating pussy…shoving his tongue inside of you, working his fingers around and sucking on that swollen bud. All for the payoff of that sweet cum trickling down the sides of his mouth. He knew you tasted heavenly and he wanted to savor you yet again. However, you were a little apprehensive about doing what he asked; afraid you might suffocate him but he was a true man, not a little boy. He could handle that shit and then some! Giving you an encouraging, heavy handed slap to the ass, he’d usher you to turn around and position yourself on his face whilst yours would be buried between his legs. “Don’t look at me like that. Sit that ass on my face, baby. I can handle it.” Locked in a sixty nine position where you both free to fuck each other’s mouths. Grasping his thighs and calves to keep a firm grip, you’d begin by flicking your tongue across his tip; red, pulsating and seeping with pre cum. Oozing all down the sides as you were quick to lap them up. Eventually, you’d start to gain a rhythm..slowly sliding that tongue up and down his shaft as if it were a delicious lollipop. He was grunting underneath you; a sure sign that you were doing a wonderful job of pleasuring him. Honestly, it was the best head he had ever gotten. Meanwhile, his nose was buried into your mound..inhaling the sweet scent of your cunt as he dove tongue deep into your pussy. You were both working in tandem to bring each other pleasure, no matter what. Faint humming and moaning arising from his lips and loud cries erupted from yours. Finding yourself gagging on a portion of that thick cock, you’d spit up and eventually jerk him off. “Eren…oh my god. Eating this pussy so good..fuck yes.” Cooing to him through desperate moans. But he’d only urge you to keep riding his face with those subtle twerks by spanking you. You’d come any minute now if he didn’t stop.

suddenly, you’d find yourself stuffed to the brim with two fingers, pumping interchangeably as they worked your insides..

“Pussy taste so fucking good..can’t wait to feel this shit.”

and he didn’t have to wait long once you began to wiggle that ass on his face, begging him to fuck you already. You needed to feel that dick stretching you out and see what he could really do with it. Could your best friend truly be the one you had been looking for? You’d find out soon enough when he patted your plump cheeks again and told you to let him up so that he could get behind you. Once you were both in position, he’d grasp the small of your back and guide you towards him, watching those fat lips spread open from behind.

“Arch that fucking back for me, baby. Right there—see, you know what to do.” Chuckling to himself as he grasped his shaft and patted it against those folds, teasing the tip up and down your slit until you trembled underneath him. “Mmphm..I need it so bad. Please..” “..what is it? What do you need? Tell me..” it was so expected of him to tease you like this. But it was all as a means to not only get you even more turned on but to establish control a bit. He wanted to hear you whimper and grovel for what you desired. “Erennn, quit playing. Oh my God.” That sweet little voice moaning his name and everything else was the driving force behind it all. When you didn’t answer to his liking, he’d smack it yet again and proceed to ask once more. “I said tell me..what do you want me to do? Use those words.” growing slightly more impatient and anxious himself, as his tip was practically glowing red and throbbing, still sensitive from being sucked and edged on. He was ready to put it to good use. But you were a little hesitant that you could take it! You figured he was packing, that was never a doubt in your mind. But that he was this big? Veiny, thick and eight and half inches. Oh, you could see why half the campus was after him. However, his sights were locked and set on you solely.

“Fuck me…give me all that dick.” Flicking your tongue across your lips to entice him further.

to which he was happy to oblige! Placing his thumb slightly above your asshole, Eren began to ease himself in, releasing a deep, shuddered breath when that warmth began to make contact with his length. He was overwhelmed by how tight and sticky you were but he held his own and was willing to do whatever to satisfy you sexually. Even if it meant getting slightly rough as you requested. You’d grasp at the sheets, face down already because that cock was making home between your walls and stretching you out in the process. The insane part was that he only got halfway before you began to shake, as well as coat him with wetness.

“..damn, and you’re creaming? Shit, (y/n).” But he was merely getting a taste of what was in store. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have him taking up permanent residence at your place and ready to fight any dude you fucked with. But you were certain there’d be no need in spinning the block after getting a taste of him. The guttural groans leaving his throat, the subtle yet deep thrusts causing the collision of your flesh; the thick of your ass against his pelvis..all underneath the dim, fluorescent lighting of the tv. The vibe was right for all that was transpiring and you honestly didn’t want it to end. Fortunately, he had no plans for that..he wanted to take his time and make this moment all the more memorable. After all, he had been waiting a while for this opportunity. To have you throwing it back on him, meeting his strokes, even through rough pounding and hard smacks to your backside. With his palm resting idly between the cusp of your love handles and hip, Eren tugged you towards him, gradually increasing his speed. The thunderous sounds of clapping flesh meshing well with your collective set of moans. Plump lips swallowing him with each one and inside, being met with a pulsating feeling.

“Ahhh..fuck, mama. This pussy’s so good. The best I’ve ever had..”

sounding ever so vulnerable with his head rolled back on his shoulders, fearing that if he caught a glimpse of those bouncing cheeks or that pretty face, he might bust prematurely. Still, he paced himself..wanting to enjoy the experience and let this euphoric feeling take over each of you..and when you began to talk back, praising him for how well he was doing, he nearly lost all sense of composure! Clawing the satin sheets, (y/n) chewed into your lip in a half assed attempt to stifle moans but there was no helping it. You were way too stimulated right now. “Right there, ‘Ren…you’re hitting my spot, baby. Oh my God, I ain’t never been fucked like this.” Crying out with semi-rolled eyes and a quivering jaw..only worsened when he sped up, burrowing himself over your frame with harder thrusts and that thumb pad sinking further into your tight hole.

“Right here? That’s the spot, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy. You fucking me so good right now!”

getting an answer that would only further awaken his inner beast. A smirk suddenly curled across his lips as he became excited at the mention of the name; most certainly strengthening his ego. In and out at interchangeable speeds, you had begun to glaze him in a mixture of cream and silky warmth.

“Then nut all over this dick, baby. There you go..” guiding you by the cusp of your hip; pounding you relentlessly from that point because both ego and cock were inflated by your praise. And he could tell that when he cooed to you, massaging the curvature of your spine, calling you things like baby and pretty girl, that pussy clenched even tighter and gushed even more, almost as if on command. It was as if your bodies were perfectly and equally yoked..like two missing puzzle pieces finally being connected. It was a shame that either of you had waited so long, whether from fear of rejection or respect, to make a move. But you were glad that he had done so tonight. And the feeling was mutual.

“Look at how good you’re taking that dick…letting my shit stretch you like that. She’s so wet..and warm. You make me never wanna leave it.” Confessing in his pussy drunken stupor whilst bending over to kiss down the curvature of your spine. Which sent shutters throughout your entire body, especially when he glided his tongue across the same spot. Inadvertently switching you two to a sort of side fucking position in the process where he hoisted your leg up and told you to keep it there. But what truly made you tick was when he reached around to cup your breasts, gently pinching on your nipples and massaging. You were practically drooling, grinning with a fucked out expression on your face. “Can I stay in it, baby? Give you that dick you deserve all the time?…” sweetly questioning with the flick of his tongue dancing around your earlobe and neck. With the way he was making you feel? He was gonna have to move in now! He was the absolute perfect lover, maybe because he already knew you better than anyone else in this world and all that remained to be explored was your body, which he was willing to take all night and do. “…working so hard, handling your business and shit..and looking so fucking sexy when you do. That’s the type of shit to get you fucked on and spoiled with a real man..what you really need. You want better for yourself, don’t you, baby?” Sliding a thumb between your lips as he cooed softly. It was something about that balance between gentle and rough, that had you melting like putty between his fingertips. And when you begged him to take you; admitting that you were submitting yourself wholly to him, he didn’t disappoint. Knowing you were mere seconds from exploding in his grasp.

“Hnghh! Yes…this your pussy now, daddy. Keep fucking me just like that.”

admitting through trembling breaths as your climax was growing nearer. Feeling how close you were and becoming rather sensitive himself, Eren decided to turn your head to face him, pulling you both into a searing kiss as he reached down to lightly rub your clit. Balls smacking against your entrance and a puddle of frothy white bliss billowing down his shaft and from your tightness. Yet again, without missing a beat, he’d flip you over and fold those legs up, putting them behind your head. This time, with a little more aggression. Almost as if your submissiveness was causing him to become far more erratic. He’d start to huff, grunting as he grew closer to his peak. He’d pull out for only a split second, splattering you with a tiny trail of precum and your pretty liquids. You were trembling but he’d instruct you to hold them in place. “Don’t move, baby. Just stay there..you’re doing so good.”

and just like before, he’d resume drilling your shit and dicking you down.

“Gonna make you come f’r me, baby. Gonna make this pretty pussy come all over my dick. You better do it..wanna nut in it too. Fill you up and watch it drip out. Shit turns me on so much.” nearly desperate in his pleas but that’s what made them all the more attractive. Admittedly, he’d never came inside of a girl because half of them couldn’t be trusted but he loved the idea of his girl being bred by him and when you agreed, he was excited.. His thin gold necklace swaying against your face as it had done your back prior..his lips pressed to yours in a haze of slow, nasty kisses. The type that only could be shared between two people with intense passion… “look at me, pretty girl..” but the second he reached that core, pressing into the pit of your stomach and grazing your cervix, you’d fade out on him and Eren had to all but coax you back. Your nails clawing at his shoulder blades and eyes trailed back with nothing more than incoherent babble coming from your mouth..almost as if you were having an out of body experience. Doing so with some light slaps to your cheek!

“I said look at me. We’re coming together, okay? Same time, baby. Here, take my hands.” Ushering you to rest those legs atop his shoulders and clutch fingers so that he could guide you through that nut..talking you through it as a real man would.

“Good girl…just keep squeezing me. You’re right there, I can feel it.” Meanwhile, you were on the brink of tears from the immense pressure swelling inside of you. Tits bouncing, legs trembling and body a complete wreck of orgasmic bliss. “So count with me. On three, I want you to let go.” Nodding your head in response and he’d place a kiss to your forehead, brushing your thumb pad across his cheek. “Don’t hold back..” and with that, he’d start his countdown. Starting at one, it’d seem like an eternity but alas, you both hit that fateful number and it was as if fireworks exploded, your hearts thudded from your chest and the two of you saw heaven simultaneously. It was hands down the best orgasm either of you had ever felt!..made apparent by the loud, pathetic cries that escaped both of you along with your cum. You squirting all over his abs and him filling you with a long stream of nut. The warmth of being stuffed made it even better.

he was an absolute mess, tears coming down his face to match your own and the two of you just held one another close as you rode out those orgasms; immersed in an ecstasy filled haze. One that could only be found after true love making.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you so much for letting me fuck you like this. I needed that..” sticking his fingers into your mouth to suckle on as you grinned at one another as you basked in the afterglow. It was safe to say that neither you had plans to spin the block on any past partners nor leave this bed anytime soon.

“You know you’re stuck with me, right? Like I’m not letting you go..” admitting as you caressed the side of his cheek. You had nothing to worry about because it’d take something major to pry him away from the girl that he always knew he loved.

“I’ve been here all this time..nothing can separate us now.”

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amaya-writes · 1 year

Text

Day One: And Then There Was One...Bed (BNHA x Reader Smut)

Day One of Amaya's New Year's Event

Summary: After a tiring day assisting your hero at the commission's Christmas party all you wanted to do was collapse in your hotel room and sleep the night away, however, things take a surprising turn when you find out each agency was only given one room...with one bed.

Warnings: smut!!! NSFW, MDNI!! sub Hawks, oral (both receiving), raw sex, dom reader, dom Aizawa, use of words like kitten, fingering

Characters involved: Hawks, Aizawa

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

You shouldn't be doing this.

A small smile tugged on your lips as you allowed your fingers to card through his feathers, the action eliciting a shiver from your pro hero as he leaned further into your touch.

The sight made your grin widen as you felt Keigo trail his hot fingers across the swell of your ass, causing you to softly grind against his touch as you allowed yourself a quick peck before completely pulling away from him.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, Keigo."

Other pro heroes would have taken your words as a reason to stop and never look you in the eyes again, but Keigo was different. He was young. You and stupid and everything you thought you left behind after graduating from UA.

And he was needy. So, so needy.

It was why he allowed a small whine to slip past his lips as Keigo's grip tightened on your bare skin.

Stay, he said. And you listened.

You listened even if you knew better than to kneel between your pro hero's legs and slot his dripping cock between your lips, you listened even if you knew a pro hero's position wasn't between his side kick's legs sucking at her core.

Low groans and moans echoed through the hotel room as the two of you made love to each other. Because that was what this was. Not random sex, but making love.

He caressed your body with the hands of worship and you tainted him with a sinner's touch.

Keigo was clumsy, and clearly didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't have had sex more than a handful of times, not with the commission breathing down his neck day and night, but he was eager. Eager and so ready to learn.

He didn't say anything when you tugged at his blond strands and pushed his mouth close to your core. He didn't protest when you told him to sit up against the headboard and climbed on his lap.

The only sound that escaped his lips were moans of pleasure as he egged you on with his words.

Don't stop. So you didn't. Let me cum for you. So you let him.

You wanted to be meaner, to pull away at the last second and make him whine for your touch. But you couldn't. Not when he was looking at you like you hung the sun in the sky.

He looked at you with the eyes of worship, you looked at him like you wanted to severe his faith.

Nobody would know about what transpired between the two of you that night. But nobody needed to know.

Because Keigo Takami might have been the powerful number two hero to the rest of Japan, but to you, he was the pro hero who fell to his knees for his side kick.

Even if it was just for a night.

Aizawa Shouta

It'll be fine he said. We're mature adults who can handle ourselves, he said. I'll be asleep even before you realise it, he said.

Yeah, right.

Aizawa Shouta might have been a pro hero who prided himself on his self-restraint and poise, but the way his lips trailed hickeys down your neck while his fingers curled into the waistband of your pyjamas certainly made it seem otherwise.

It had been hours since the two of you first stumbled into your hotel room tired and ready to collapse, but neither of you had gotten a wink of sleep since the second you lied down beside each other.

At first, he had used the blaring red 2:00 am on the hotel's alarm clock as an excuse to strike up a conversation about how both of you wouldn't be able to get any work done the next day if you didn't sleep.

Then came the cuddling because it was cold enough for you to feel like your toes were going to fall off.

But somewhere between the clock striking three and your lips find his, the two of you had found yourself tangled in each other's limbs with a salacious need gnawing at your mind.

This was wrong. Both of you knew it was.

Pro heroes weren't supposed to spend their nights with their fingers stuffed into their side kick's pussy. And side kick certainly were supposed to jerk off their heroes at three in the morning.

Especially not when you were on a trip organized by the hero commission and in a hotel surrounded by dozens of heroes who could easily hear you through the thin walls.

But neither of you seemed to care much about that. Not when every fibre of your being just screamed for that delicious release.

"Shouta- I-"

You wanted to say something, anything at all. But it was hard to do anything but muffle your moans in the pillow beside your head when Aizawa was curling his fingers up into you so perfectly.

"It's okay."

He placed a chaste kiss on your jawline as he spoke, causing a small smile to tug on your lips.

"You ready to go all the way, kitten?"

You silently nodded along to his question, allowing your hand to fall limp around his length just as you felt his hand pull away.

As you watched Shouta shift so that he could tower over you with one hand pressed into the mattress and the other stroking his leaking cock, you couldn't help but feel a sudden sense of yearning consume you.

It made you whine in annoyance at the lack of his touch, a sound that elicited a chuckle from Aizawa as he reached down to finally slide his tip inside you. And then more, and more, until you could feel him bottoming out with a loud groan that drowned out your own moans.

The mattress squeaked below the two of you as you felt him began to pull out and slide back in at a painfully slow pace.

"Shouta!"

This time your call was one of desperation, the sound making him smirk against your neck as he trailed kisses down your hot skin.

"Be patient."

"But-"

He pulled away from your neck at the weak protest, choosing to stare at you with a raised eyebrow even as his hips rolled against yours.

"Trust me, kitten, I know what I'm doing."

He dropped down to place a quick peck on your lips as he spoke, the gesture causing a small smile to tug at the corner of your lips as you silently watched Aizawa reposition himself above you.

"Now, let your pro hero take care of you."

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the-californicationist · 3 months

Text

Excerpt from Gunslinger - "Appaloosa"

OMG!! I commissioned this artwork from the incredible @captain-natey who RETURNED TO ME WITH THIS MASTERPIECE!!!! I just wanted to plug their work (their commissions are OPEN! visit their website here!!) and I wanted to post the chapter excerpt from "Gunslinger" (Price/Reader) that it belongs to. Hope you enjoy! Please go show Nate some love! Thanks for reading. TW: reference to past domestic abuse, Reader has call sign and speaks Spanish

Price sat beside you and pulled your chair closer to his, looping an arm around the back of it,

“Look, love, you don’t have to do anything you don’t -”

“Capitán! Quit whispering your sugary words into her ear. This is the woman who survived Miguel ‘El Matador’ Moreno for diez pinche años. She may look like a little lady, but she’s done nastier work than all four of you perritos combined. She is the reason why the infamous Jefe Luis Villagomez doesn’t travel north of the Rio Grande. Charon doesn’t ferry the living very often, amigos. She only takes the dead. Porfa,” Alejandro waved a hand in the air dismissively, unamused by Price’s coddling tones.

Ale may have been embellishing a bit, but he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t need your hand to be held.

“I can’t leave the animals,” you said, checking to see how far these men had thought this plan through.

“Laswell called Tony, and he’ll be here Wednesday,” Gaz told you.

Tony had watched the ranch for you once before. He was a sharp-witted veteran that had run his own ranch for decades, so you felt good about leaving the farm to him. Tony could take care of himself. He did tend to spoil the goats, but there were worse things.

“How long?” Your question hung in the air like a balloon losing its air, floating, surrounded by silence.

Vargas and Price shared a look. Price repositioned himself in his chair, not thrilled about having to answer you,

“Not sure, love. Is that alright?”

It was a test. What were you willing to sacrifice for this man and his makeshift band of brothers? Your peace? You’d fought so damn hard for that peace. You’d survived a devil of a man in order to sleep warm and safe and knowing you could take care of your damn business unaided. After giving up years of your life to unrest and fear, your reward had been the reconstruction of your independence. Price was asking you for your hard-fought freedom. You weren’t ready to give that up. You weren’t ready for sleeping on floors and reloading guns. You weren’t ready to face more devil-men.

But what else could you do? Price had you, threatening your heart. If you woke up tomorrow to his empty bed, you didn’t know if you could take that pain. You imagined that Kahlo’s Wounded Deer felt much the same; shot through the chest with nowhere to run, stuck between the cliff’s edge and your lover - your hunter - both promising suffering in different ways. No escape.

The captain studied you like a heeler dog studied its herd, watching for even the slightest movement to strike, to react. He witnessed the fear flash in your face, and in turn, you saw the despair shadow his. It was so slight, that change in his expression, but to you, it was like he was screaming. You, too, were screaming.

“Okay, but just for this mission. Then, I need to get back to my life,” you decided, making your limitations known, quietly but firmly.

The relief that washed through Price’s eyes was palpable.

Vargas served dinner in his chaotic way, family style, sharing plates. Everyone was eating with their hands, cradling the homemade tortillas like little flowers, using them to scoop up meat and sauce that dripped down their palms like nectar, spicy and sweet.

Ghost didn’t take his food into the other room this time, feeling secure enough to flip up the mouth of his painted mask to eat. It was like seeing him naked; he was always covered up, so any skin was somehow too much. Soap crowded Ghost from his corner of the table, trying to steal more asada, laughing and joking with Ale. Gaz and Price were huddled, murmuring about something, talking with full mouths in low tones.

It was almost too serene. There were times in life where you understood that you were in a moment you could never return to. You may have similar ones in your future, but somehow, you knew when certain wrinkles in time were singular. As you watched your guests, you knew that this was definitely one of those moments.

Price had his arm draped across your chair, keeping you near him. You crafted a bite for him in your hand, pinching the soft tortilla until it held the perfect amount of Ale’s asada.

You nudged Price with your free hand,

“Toma, come esto, papi.” Here, have a bite, daddy.

He turned away from Gaz and found you there, his bite of food in your hands, and his face lit up like a flame. Bending his head down to meet your hand, he grabbed your wrist in his huge fist, trapping your arm. Then, slowly, he put his mouth around the morsel, lips touching the pads of your fingers, tongue licking the sauce from them.

Vargas watched your interaction from the other side of the table, open-mouthed. Soap smacked him on the shoulder as if to cash in a bet.

“No, animales! Not at the table!”

The men shared a lighthearted groan and laughed good-naturedly, giving you and their captain a hard time about your little display of affection.

You smirked, feeling accomplished. Price had wanted to tell them, so you thought a dropped hint or two would be alright. To your relief, he laughed with them, chewing his food before making a comment,

“Sabe buena.” Tastes good. His voice, still badly accented, was mirthful and suggestive, dragging out another round of playful jeering.

Then, to your surprise, the captain pulled your chair back away from the table, leaning it on its rear legs, holding it at an angle, and kissed you deeply. You let out a little cry of shock, silenced by his mouth. But, you recovered, kissing him back, wrapping one hand around his jaw and the other running through his hair.

It was all in good fun. Normal. Just a couple flirting with each other, but for Price, you could tell it meant more. It was one thing to bare your souls to each other in front of the farm animals, or to sneak off and rediscover original sins in the quiet of your room, but it was something else to show the world that you chose him. To show his men that you were committed to their captain. That you weren’t just a rest-stop on their long journey. You got the sense that by committing to him, you were also committing to them: his family.

The rest of the meal passed in that same warmth, filled with laughter and jokes, stories and questions about each other. Intimacy. The whole time, Price couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Your thigh, your hand, the nape of your neck - he was grabbing you like a lifeline. He shared his food, making you try his chili relleno, giving you sips of his drink when yours ran dry, doting on you.

“Okay, time for dessert, yes?” You asked the others, picking up dirty dishes as you retreated back to the kitchen.

You heard exasperated groaning, their bellies full and struggling, but you didn’t hear a no. Vargas followed you into the kitchen, pretending to help,

“Dios mío, necesito un cigarrillo después de verlos a ustedes.” My God, I need a cigarette after watching you two.

“Cállate, cerdito.” Shut up, piglet. You smiled to yourself, cutting up what was left of the cheesecake, giving Price’s plate the largest piece.

“¿Estas enamorado, morena?” Are you in love, darling? His voice was a quiet whisper. It felt like a gunshot wound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you said, in English, not trusting yourself to tell such a lie in your native tongue.

Your old friend covered his mouth with his hand, eyebrows heading skyward, giving you an obvious look. He replied in English, understanding the secret you’d been trying to conceal,

“You know better, Charon. We are not men who should be loved. I hope you know what you’re doing, mija. ”

You didn’t reply out loud, but on the inside, you heard yourself say, “Me, too.”

Even though they lived in the shadows, you weren’t sold on the idea that they should be priests for their causes. Men like Price typically followed two paths. The love of a woman, if she becomes his family, could break his heart, making him forget his purpose, distracting him from his quest for justice. Or, she would light a fire in him, turning him into a dragon. You were afraid to find out which path he would choose.

You wondered if he loved you.

You delivered the cake and poured more tequila into all the little cups that were thirsty for it.

John was rolling a cigar in his fingers absentmindedly, and you could tell he was aching to smoke it.

“You wanna come outside with me, love?” Price invited you, rubbing your thighs in big, sweeping strokes, making your blood rush through them, somehow knowing what you wanted.

Everyone else was chatting, or watching Gaz play that video game of his, backseat driving, telling him where to hide and who to shoot. Which gun to use. You slipped out onto the porch with Price, avoiding any more ribbing.

You stood against the porch railing, facing the yard, staring out at the darkness of the night, the rain finally dying out to a drizzle, casting little blue galaxies in the flooded grass, reflecting the light from a huge moon. Price stood directly behind you, pressed against your body, wrapping one hand around the railing, closing you in. He held his cigar in the other hand, smoking it in circles, trying to make the ashes burn evenly.

“You surprised me at dinner,” he commented, obviously looking for a response.

You feigned ignorance,

“Oh, why?”

“Feeding me by hand like that. Can’t be doing that in public. Makes me go a bit hard, love.” His voice was right next to your ear, gravelly and delightfully threatening.

You smiled sweetly, your words coated in pretend innocence, playing with him,

“What do you mean? I just wanted you to have a bite. One little bite can’t hurt, can it, John?”

“It’s bloody mental, the way you make me feel,” he took a long drag from his cigar and let the smoke tumble out as he spoke, leaning over you, “I’d fuck you right here, pretty girl, given half a chance.”

He took a deep breath along the side of your neck, smelling your skin beneath your hair, and when he exhaled, a moan was wrapped quietly inside it.

You pressed your ass into his crotch, finding him nearly hard. Touching his hand gently, you took his cigar and stuck it in your mouth, the wet leaves tasting like him. You curled the smoke with your tongue, locking eyes with him over your shoulder, watching him suffer deliciously,

“I dunno about ‘mental’, John. But it seems like you have an oral fixation.

You punctuated your last two words, saying them with a soft, sultry undertone. His eyes narrowed as he smiled down at you in a sinister grin,

“Do I ever.”

He stole the stick back from you and smiled even wider, teeth gleaming, his incisors seeming like fangs in his wolfy smile.

“Think they’re watching us?” You let your eyes turn over to the window, covered with a sheer curtain, fully aware that the view outside was more visible than your view into the house. Trick of the light.

He shrugged,

“Not if they know what’s good for them.”

Price’s cock had fully hardened now, and he thrust it up into your body ever so slightly, rubbing himself through layers of clothes, rocking his hips once and then twice like a promise of things to come. It made you feel a deep, primal lust, understanding his need without his words, your bodies engaging in an ancient art that had remained untainted by eons of time. You returned his invitation, rolling your hips back onto him, your ass pressing soundly into his pinned shaft.

“We should get some sleep. Early start tomorrow. It’s five hours to El Ojo,” Price groaned, whispering, rutting against you mindlessly, burying his face in your hair, staining your scent with his smoke.

You turned around to face him; he didn’t stop his idle grinding, looking tranquilized by his heady tobacco. Hypnotizing you with his casual eroticism.

“You don’t seem sleepy,” you commented, letting your hands roam over his chest and belly, tracing his nipples beneath his smooth shirt. He shuddered at your touch, sighing deeply.

With his cigar perched carefully between his fingers, he grabbed your jawbone, and you could feel the wet end press into your cheek. You could sense the warmth of the ash on your skin. He began to kiss you, all of the smoke and musky scents of him blended together, and his strong, masculine cologne made your head spin. His kisses were controlling and long, moving your head where he wanted it to be, sucking your lips and tongue, keeping them from exploring on their own. He was the guide for your passion, showing you all the ways he would be able to please.

He broke away, but only far enough to keep your lips from touching, his breath hot as it warmed your mouth when he spoke,

“Early. Tomorrow. We have to get up early. We should sleep.”

“Okay,” you sighed, a little dramatically, easing past his grip, removing yourself from him, untangling his vines from your bones, “if you say so, John. Buenas noches.”

You walked inside, swaying your hips a little more than you needed to, knowing he was looking, his blue eyes burning into your curves. Just before you went through the door, you glanced over at him. In the darkness of the porch, cast in shadow, the smoldering tip of his cigar glowed in his open mouth, the light from it gleaming off of his teeth and coloring his lips and beard a fiery orange. He was grinning, like a fox in a henhouse. When he saw you looking, he made a small show of readjusting himself, pawing at his swollen rod to release it from where it was trapped, and in the dimness, you could see its threatening outline.

You shut the door behind you, hands shaking. The other men mostly ignored you, but you caught them glancing your way, trying to sneak looks. Soap was not as sneaky as the rest, staring blankly as if he had a secret he shouldn't have.

As you wished them good night, they returned the sentiment casually, but it was then that you noticed the window. Price was still at the railing - in full, clear view, smoking. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel the flush tingle against your skin with embarrassment.

An hour or so later, you were already asleep when Price came upstairs. His heavy footsteps pulled you from your slumber. He was pacing in his room, packing perhaps. You went to the bathroom and pulled open the door. Upon hearing you, he opened his as well.

“Hey,” you whispered, squinting from sleep.

“Hey,” he was breathing heavily, dressed in nothing but the jeans and boots he had worn that day.

The captain watched as your eyes feasted upon his skin, gazing longingly at his thick waist where his pants were slung low on his hips, showing off just a bit of hair from below his belt line. One of his giant hands gripped the door frame, high on the plank, stretching his chest into a sweeping display of muscle. His armpit, arms, and torso were covered in the thick, dark hair you had let your hands roam across last night during your joining, and you knew how it would feel to touch.

Price slid his hand down the frame, making a slow scraping noise, stepping fully into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a click, his icy eyes never leaving yours.

He was enormous in the small space. His body was a powerhouse of visible strength. The meat of him hung heavy on his large bones, and he seemed, in the clean white tile of the bathroom, as if he was a specimen in some sort of display. Some museum exhibit, showing off, in sterile composition, the ideal form of Man. Built to fuck, to kill, to dominate the beasts of Eden from the lamb to the lion. Top of the food chain.

Still a little shy from realizing you’d given his team quite the show earlier on the porch, you averted your gaze, turning toward the sink. Before you could run the water, he was behind you, quick, crowding your space exactly as he had on the porch.

He positioned himself behind you and, much more luridly this time, began to kiss and lick your neck, grinding himself into you as he did so, slipping a warm hand under your loose top, finding your soft flesh waiting for his touch. You could feel the roughness of his denim jeans through your cotton shorts, and the contrast between his soft, melting kiss and the hard, unforgiving feeling of him trying to fuck you through your clothes was too much to handle. Your body was trying to reconcile the two, splitting your thoughts, making you love-drunk on his ministrations.

Price pulled off your shirt, raking it over your head, tossing it to the floor. He laced his hand through your hair and began to tug your head back, forcing you to look at yourself, bare to him, in the mirror. There was only the nightlight, more like a small Christmas bulb attached to a plug, so the room lacked any harsh contrast. Your bodies, your faces, the walls - everything began to swirl together, all colorized in the same, peachy glow.

You felt his hands on your breasts, and you watched him touch you in the mirror. Seeing yourself being pulled and manipulated by such a large man was gratifying. His hands massaged into your softness, leaving warm trails on your skin, the tell-tale feeling of where he had touched and where he still had left to go. The captain saw himself in the mirror for the first time, then, looking up from leaving erotic kisses on your neck and shoulders.

He sighed, locking eyes with you in the glass. That sigh trailed off into a groan, a ghost of the one he’d given you last night in the midst of his ecstasy.

“Fucking hell, look at you,” he said in his lowest tone.

Suddenly, he was tugging at the button of his jeans and unzipping the fly, freeing himself and stroking his cock to attention using your plump ass. Through your flimsy shorts, you could feel the burning heat that radiated from him. Reaching behind you, his hardness fell into your palm and you watched the sensation crawl its way through his expression in the reflection. He gasped, resting his head against yours, whispering - yes, yes, yes - into your ear in a hiss through clenched teeth.

John’s hand found your pantyline and pried it away from your skin with a confident finger, traveling down into your folds, searching for the swelling bundle nestled in the crest of your slit, rubbing it in long, loose ovals.

It wasn’t feverish; it was measured. His was the hand of a practiced man. As he worked, you joined him, rolling your wrist to rub his foreskin up and down in achingly long pulls, letting his wet head graze your skin as you teased him. The thick length was drooling with precome, and you could feel its stickiness on your palm.

It didn’t take him long to find your particular rhythm, the one you used when staring at Pinterest photos on your phone of Keanu Reeves in his John Wick era; sweaty, bloody, and great with a gun. Price’s movements felt personal, like he’d read about what you wanted in your diary somewhere, as if he was in on the secret. It brought you to the summit very quickly, and he noticed the flush in your cheeks and breasts, only then increasing his intensity.

You tried to continue to stroke him, but as you began to come in Price’s hand, you could only hold onto his cock, grasping it like the handle in a car driving too fast, careening downhill, rushing to its inevitable crash.

“Yeah, love, come for me. Just like that, you gorgeous fucking thing,” he watched you tumble over the edge, crumpling in the mirror, reaching for him.

“John! Please,” you cried.

You felt the tension burst inside of you like a mortar, hot and molten, pouring out of your core and into your body in waves of climactic pleasure. No one had ever made you come that hard, that quickly. It was hard for you to stand. Price steadied you, using his talented hand to hold you to him while you remembered your legs.

Once you regained your senses, you removed your hand from him to pull down your shorts and panties, letting them pool at the floor beneath your feet. You returned to his cock, now swollen and throbbing, and fed it into you. Your come made his entry smooth and slippery, and he filled you up, your body celebrating his return.

He returned to his slow, grinding dance on the porch, thrusting himself into you rhythmically in aching, rolling motions. It was not the slamming pugilism of two people trying to find release. This was a concerted effort for him to fuck your walls into his memory, rubbing his dick along them to sense every ridge and sweet spot, and to find the ones that made you scream.

When you let slip a desperate moan, he would pause, reflect, and return, hitting it again and again, watching you writhe and begging for him to help you.

“You feel so good in me,” you admitted, talking to him in the looking-glass.

His eyes were full of mismanaged control, and his grip on reality was slipping,

“Bloody beautiful. So warm and wet for me. Goddamnit, I’m not gonna last.”

But, he did. Your beast had stamina. He returned to your clit as he thrust in and out of you, dragging his fat cock through your body, ripping two more orgasms from your lips before he surrendered.

You watched him come, crying out darkly in his reflection. He had pulled himself from you and was painting your generous ass cheeks with his load. The tacky fluid was searingly hot, and it ran down your skin in drips.

You smiled, bending back to kiss him,

“Messy boy,” you chided playfully, a naughty tone in your voice.

“Wanna clean you up,” Price sighed, satisfied and spent.

Do you want 30 more chapters of these two? Read "Gunslinger" here.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #gunslinger #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain johnathan price #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x you #price cod #price mw2 #cod price

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clareguilty · 6 months

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Ghost/f!reader - Possessiveness, Edging

Second kinktober prompt! If anyone is interested in commissioning another Ghost or MWII prompt pls let me know <3

Ghost/f!reader | Possessiveness, Edging, Uniform, Size Kink Rating: Explicit | No warnings Word Count: ~2000

You should have woken up at the sound of the door.

The fact that you don’t even stir until the padding of the too-small bunk is sinking under sizable new weight means that you’re in way worse shape than you originally thought.

Still, the only person who would be trying to squeeze into your bunk in the dead of night is pretty low on your list of threats to watch for.

“L’t’nant?” You mumble, scooching closer to the wall so he’ll have more room. Not that it would make a difference. The bed is barely big enough for you. Ghost would hang off the edge at every end even if he had the whole bunk to himself. “What’re ya doin’?”

“Heard they had to pull you out of a hole earlier,” he manages to settle in behind you — not comfortable, but at least close. “Came to see how my girl was doing.” His voice is low, more of a rumble than anything else. You can feel the rough material of his vest against your back, and you want to grumble at him for not even dressing down before coming to bother you, but it’s nice to feel his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Bad,” you groan. “Medical has me off the field for a few weeks at least.”

Ghost makes an inquisitive sound low in his throat. You aren’t sure what he’s asking, so you just ignore it, choosing instead to bask in the comfort of having him here with you. It’s dark and quiet in your room, and even being cramped on the smallest bunk the SAS could offer is nice compared to the shitshow you just crawled out of.

He shifts slightly, trying to keep from falling off the damn mattress, and his fucking gear pokes you in the side.

“Could you take that shit off?” You want to jab him with your elbow, but you can’t. You settle for kicking at his shin with your heel.

“Can’t,” he sounds apologetic. “I’m heading back out as soon as they get a bird ready.” He has nothing to be sorry for. This is the way it’s always been. The two of you catch each other for hours at a time — passing moments — in between missions.

“How long do we have?” Your voice sounds small and you hate it. Now is definitely not the time to be weak.

“Hour? Maybe two?” He runs a gloved hand over your side. “You should sleep.” He starts to move, to pull away, and you can’t have that. You can’t even reach for him.

“Wait,” you kick him again before he can stand. “Stay. I’ve got plenty of time to catch up on sleep after you leave.”

Ghost doesn’t say anything, but you watch his silhouette step away from the bunk. Before you can even try and protest again, the fucker has flicked the lights on.

“What the fuck?!” You curse, shielding your eyes with your good arm as you jolt upright.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” Ghost is kneeling by the bed before you can blink, inspecting the sling on your arm and the concerning amount of tape and bandages beneath it.

“Just a strain,” you would shrug, but you can’t actually move your shoulder. “Some fucker wrenched it out of place, and then a beam fell on it when the building came down.”

He’s still got his mask on, but you can see the tension in his jaw. “Someone touched you?” He growls. His hands are hovering over the sling. Too scared to hurt you.

“Graves’ men.” You reach out with your good arm and lace your fingers between his. His gloves make his hands bigger than they already are, but you make it work. “They got some kind of code or something and turned on us. We couldn’t send a signal out. I was trying to fight my way out when someone had the brilliant idea to blow up the entire base.”

“Please tell me you killed the fucker.”

“With his own fucking gun,” you spit. Piece of shit.

“That’s my girl.” Ghost brushes a hand over your hair. He trained you to be able to take care of yourself. The touch is sweet, but then you realize how closely he’s watching you. The way his eyes flit across your body, calculating.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Just the arm. Nothing else. It’s not even that bad.” You pull up your sleeve to show him.

That turns out to be a mistake.

There’s a dark purple palm print, bluish at the edges. It wraps around your arm in the exact place that the American soldier had grabbed you earlier. You didn’t even notice the bruise before. It was all the same throbbing pain.

Ghost is gentle, surprisingly so, as he lifts you off the cot with strong hands beneath your hips and lays you on your back, splayed across the bedroll. “Absolutely not,” he hisses. “No one gets to mark you but me.”

There is the screech of metal on concrete as he yanks the cot away from the wall, giving him more room.

He can’t get your shirt off without destroying all of the medics’ hard work, but he yanks your pants around your ankles and tugs them off before tossing them aside.

Honestly, you like this turn of events. There will be plenty of time to sleep after Ghost has shipped off to wherever he’s going. You’re going to be grounded and on bedrest for at least a few days, the least you could do is kick it off with a bang.

“Fuck yes,” you hiss, shifting your hips to get more comfortable on the bedroll.

He runs his hands over your thighs, and you wish he would take his damn gloves off so you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

Instead, he takes his time. Seeking out the tension in your muscles and kneading in with his thumbs. It feels heavenly, but it’s not what you want right now.

“Ghost,” you warn, “hurry the fuck up.”

He responds by pinching your ass, and it’s so cheeky and childish that you can’t help but giggle. “Don’t rush me, Dove,” he orders. There’s so much command in his voice that you have no choice but to obey, and he knows it. He trained you, after all.

He does finally remove his gloves, and you all but melt at the heat of his hands. His thick fingers drag through the wetness between your legs, and you arch your back, hissing in pleasure when he drags his thumb over your clit.

Usually it’s so quick and rough between you, those heated collisions after a firefight or the rushed scuffles in the dark. This is more time and quiet than you’ve had with Ghost in weeks. He knows it too, because he refuses to give you exactly what you want.

“Please,” you gasp, reaching for his wrist with your good arm to try and direct his fingers where you want them.

He catches your hand, pinning it to the cot and leaning in to growl in your ear. “You’re going to be patient.”

You want to tell him that patience isn’t on the table when he has to ship out in less than two hours, and that he better make you come before then, but you know better than to talk back to your lieutenant.

He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak, because he chooses that moment to increase the pace of his fingers against your clit until you’re hurtling toward that peak. All you can do is gasp and moan as he brings you off.

Except the bastard doesn’t. He pulls away at the last possible second, pinning you in place with his hands on your hips so you can’t even move as the overwhelming pleasure disappears in an instant.

“Ghost!” You cry out. “Fuck! You piece of shit!”

The fucker just has the audacity to laugh. You want to punch him straight in his stupid mask, but your good arm is currently in a sling.

“Patience, Dove,” he warns you again.

By now, the aching pleasure has receded back to a humming need, and Ghost slips his fingers back between your legs. You nearly kick him when he presses two slick fingers inside you and curls them, the stretch and shock of pleasure overwhelming after his previous torture.

“Yes,” you breathe.

It’s slower this time. He doesn’t rush as he works you over. He drags his rough, thick fingers over that same spot again and again until you’re shaking and whimpering before increasing his pace and pressing his thumb against your clit.

You’re so close, and it’s so much stronger this time. Every muscle in your body is tensing, and you don’t even mind the pain from our injuries when every other sensation feels so good. You can’t even keep your eyes open.

And then it stops. Again.

You actually do kick him this time. At least you try to. He catches your foot before it can connect with his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand.

He leans over you, cupping your jaw with his clean hand.

“We’re going to do this one more time. And you’re going to behave. If you can do that, I’ll let you come on my cock. Understood?”

You lay there panting, staring up into his mask and the burning intensity in his eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

This time, you don’t fight. He doesn’t waste your time like he did before, bringing you right to the edge and holding you there, fucking you on his fingers as you bite your lips and dig your fingers into the bedroll.

And when he pulls away just before you can tip over into an absolutely mindblowing orgasm, you hold yourself back from trying to wrestle him to the ground with his own knife.

He wrestles with the fasten of his trousers, freeing his cock before settling between your legs on the bunk. “You’ll stop me if it hurts?”

You dig your knee into his side. “Just fuck me already.” You don’t care if it fucking hurts. You just want to actually get off.

He’s still gentle as he lifts your hips and lines up his cock, sinking in to the hilt in one blinding motion.

At least he’s done dicking around at this point, because he actually fucks you like he means it. And he doesn’t knock your hand away when you reach between your bodies to rub your clit.

“You wanna come?” He asks, and you feel your blood burn white hot at the question. “Gonna come on my cock?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer automatically.

And then it crashes over you, all of that built up pleasure. Every single touch. You’re absolutely sure you’re going to need to go back to the medics because you definitely just fucked your shoulder back up again. But it’s so worth it when Ghost is making you feel this good. You almost regret trying to kick him. Almost.

“That’s right,” he says, thumb tracing over your spit-slick lips. “Who makes you feel this good?”

“You, sir,” you pant, chest heaving and heart thudding as you come down from the blinding rush of sensation.

“And can you give me one more?” He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s fucking into you again harder than before. You know he’s going to make you come again.

You don’t stand a chance, already clenching around his cock as he forces another orgasm out of you.

It’s only when you’re limp and absolutely fucked out beneath him that he lets himself come. You want to be angry about the mess, but you’ll clean it later.

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to get your pants back on. Just half assedly wipes up the mess between your legs before climbing back onto the tiny cot and curling around you. You don’t even mind the roughness of his vest and the way all his gear jabs and pokes you.

“How much longer ‘til you leave?” You ask.

“Not long.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then: “I’ll wake you before I go- if you want to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when you’re gone.” You grab his hand that’s draped over your waist. He hasn’t put his gloves back on yet, and you trace all of the scars and marks on the rough skin.

#ghost/reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #kinktober 2023 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley/reader

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peskygirl13 · 1 year

Text

Proposing to Him with His Disney Movie: Riddle, Leona, Vil

It’s been a few years since you graduated NRC. Crowley never did end up finding you a way back home, but you were content spending your life with your love. Although recently you’ve been wanting more.

You loved your partner with all of your heart and you knew that you wanted to be tied with him forever. After years of being together, marriage seemed like the most obvious step. But how to propose?

Then it struck you.

You remembered a man who had commissioned someone to draw himself and his then girlfriend (now wife) into her favorite Disney movie for his proposal.

(If you’ve seen this video, you know what I’m talking about.)

When you arrived in Twisted Wonderland, you still had your phone. And while it didn’t work with calling and texting, you did have a few classic Disney movies downloaded onto it, including your partner’s movie.

You got to work right away. You had picked up a few hobbies in Twisted Wonderland to preoccupy yourself, drawing and animation being one of them, and you wanted this proposal to be as personal as possible.

Besides, you didn’t think it was a good idea to show anyone in Twisted Wonderland a movie where the Great Seven were painted as villains.

It took a long time to start and finish the animation for your proposal and to find the perfect ring for your love, but after several long months of prepping and paranoia it was finally time.

You asked your partner if you two could have a movie night on his next day off, and he agreed.

Everything was set. Blankets for cuddling were washed and dried (still warm) along with your movie jammies, the snacks had prepped and sat out, the “specially selected” movie was in the DVD player, and you had bribed Grim (who stayed with you all these years) with tuna to leave you two alone for the night.

It was time to make him yours.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s life was constantly busy.

After graduating NRC he became a rather successful lawyer. He cut ties with his mother, which was messier than his overblot and ended with a restraining order, but he was much happier afterwards.

Due to his busy schedule, he always adored every peaceful minute he could spend with you. Especially recently, when those moments what become few and far between.

You had been acting odd these last few months, and Riddle was worried. You had assured him you were just busy with something, but wouldn’t tell him what, which concerned him since you told each other everything.

This is one of the reasons he was so excited when you brought up the movie night.

He worked extra hard that day to get home early to you. Once he arrived you nearly had a heart attack because you hid his ring in the blankets. Thankfully he didn’t notice anything and even brought home a tart from Trey’s bakery.

You quickly stowed the ring away while Riddle changed his clothes, thankful that you pajama pants had pockets, and finished getting everything ready.

Once Riddle came back, you were under the blankets, ring box hidden in you lap, and surrounded by snacks. Riddle quickly joined you and you started the movie.

It was rather peaceful watching Alice in Wonderland with your dear Riddle. At least, it would be if the ring box wasn’t burning a hole in your lap as your heart beat erratically.

It had been a while since Riddle watched Alice in Wonderland with you and he enjoyed pointing out things in the movie familiar to him and would give you a brief lesson about them.

You know he was just excited and loved trying to impress you with his knowledge, and normally you loved that, but he kept pausing the movie to do this and it wasn’t good for your poor anxious heart.

Finally, after turning an hour long movie to a two hour long movie, it was time for Alice to meet the Queen of Hearts. Which also meant it was almost time for you to propose.

You shifted your position as The Queen of Hearts appeared on the screen. It was difficult for you to sit still as the seconds towards your proposal kept getting shorter and shorter.

After the Queen sent off the card solders, she looked at Alice who was on the ground.

When the movie transitioned from Alice back to the Queen, Riddle let out a “Huh?”

Instead of the Queen of Hearts, Riddle appeared wearing his old Dorm Uniform.

Movie Riddle blinked before smiling down at ‘Alice.’ The scene switched back to show that Alice had been replaced by movie you, wearing her outfit/a similar outfit.

Movie You got off the ground and curtsied to Movie Riddle before reaching into your apron pocket and pulling out a red velvet box with a tag that read “Open Me” on it.

Movie You threw it up in the air and real you pretended to catch it before turning to face Riddle, who was watching you with wide eyes.

You knelt in front of him and held out the box, an exact replica of what was on the screen, and handed it to him.

He carefully picked it up, as though it was the most precious thing in the world, and held his breath as he opened it, gasping at the sight of the ring you picked for him.

“Arriving at Twisted Wonderland was like a dream. For me it was a land of pure wonders with the most wonderful of all being you. Being around you alone makes me blush as red as the roses you love. I love how clever you are, how passionate you are, and I especially love the faces you make when you eat sweets.”

Riddle let out a little laugh at this, but didn’t dare interrupt you.

“There hasn’t been a thing about you that I haven’t loved and will stop loving. We may have graduated, but you’re still the queen of my heart and it will always be yours if you’d have it. Riddle Rosehearts, become my queen forever. Marry me?”

Riddle blinked away happy tears before using a hand to tilt your chin up to his face, gently kissing your lips.

“Yes, my love. My rose. My heart. Yes.”

Leona Kingscholar

Even though Leona finally managed to get himself to class long enough to finally graduate, he didn’t want to return home yet. And he sure as heck didn’t want to abruptly introduce you to royal life without any prior preparation.

Fortunately he was scouted by a professional Spelldrive team, who was more than eager to recruit him, and the two of you started traveling.

You were pretty much Leona’s manager in all but name and without the pay (As he put it, his income was your income). You did do some odd jobs from time to time, not wanting to solely depend on him, but you did have a lot of free time. Which did come in handy when you decided that you wanted to propose.

You and Leona had been on the road with his Spelldrive team for a few years now, and Leona was beginning to think it was time to return to Sunset Savana.

You decided you’d propose on his final game. You spent the entire Spelldrive season working on this proposal, recruiting his coach and teammates to keep him busy, and finally, the night before his finally game, everything was ready.

You told his coach, who ended practice early so that Leona wouldn’t be too tired during the movie and fall asleep.

Leona was suspicious of his coach’s decision. Why would he let the team off early before their big game? But ultimately ignored it and texted you that he’d be coming back to the hotel room early.

You tried not to make it obvious that you had been staring at your phone, waiting for this text, and responded telling him that you wanted to have a movie night with him to celebrate his hard work before he retired.

Leona was always looking for an excuse to lounge in bed with you, so he obviously agreed.

You, on the other hand, were wondering if you’d stay awake long enough so that you wouldn’t miss your que.

You had been working on this and stressing about it for months and Leona was your personal weighted/heated blanket. You knew that he wouldn’t mind if you fell asleep, always down to cuddle, but you would.

You got everything ready, from the snacks, to the pjs, to the cuddle blankets, so that by the time Leona made it back to the hotel room, all he’d have to do is shower and change.

Leona was admittedly a bid suspicious of how eager you were (as much as you tried to hide it), and that, mixed with the coach letting everyone off earlier, made it obvious to him that you were planning something.

He just didn’t know what.

Deciding to ignore it for now, he took his shower and changed while you double checked everything and started up the dvd.

When Leona walked out, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see the starting screen of ‘The Lion King’ on it. He gave you a dirty look, which you returned with a sheepish one, before clasping your hands together and begging him.

“Please, please, please! You can pick the next one.” You promised.

Leona just sighed and crawled onto the bed and started cuddling you, his tail wrapping around your thigh.

You smiled and started up the movie.

As unamused as Leona was with your movie choice, he at least stayed awake during it. He only smiled during ‘Be Prepared.’

You were enjoying the movie about as much as he was, but that was because of the proposal.

Leona could tell by the smell of your pheromones that you were nervous about something.

“Oi,” He squeezed you a bit tighter, a small frown of his face but concern evident regardless. “You’re nervous about something.”

You shook your head with a small smile.

“I’m fine.” You reassured, calming down a bit. It was weird, but his concern gave you a boost of confidence.

Leona wasn’t convinced but didn’t press anymore. Only giving you an occasional glance to see if you were still ok.

It wasn’t until the scene where Nala and Simba were reunited that your pheromones spiked again, much stronger this time.

Leona could actually see the sweat forming on your brow.

Grabbing the remote before you could realize, he paused the movie and turned to face you.

“What’s wrong?” He demanded, holding the remote out of arms reach when you tried to grab it. “Why are you so nervous?”

You bit your lip nervously. You really didn’t want to propose to him like this, but you also knew he wouldn’t give you back the remote until you told him the truth.

“Leona, it can’t tell you but if you please play the movie you'll know why.” You promised.

Leona glared at you. He hated when you kept secrets from him. He hated it even more when you were hurting and you wouldn’t tell him why.

“Please, please, Leona.” You begged.

Leona narrowed his eyes even more, but ultimately pressed his thumb on the play button and continued the movie.

At this point, you two weren’t cuddling anymore and Leona was watching you more that the movie, waiting for a reaction.

‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’ started playing and you shifted your body to a more alert position, mutely telling Leona that something important was about to happen.

You looked over at him and pointed at the screen. “Please watch.”

Leona listened, but still glanced at you every few seconds.

You both watched as Nala and Simba tumbled down the hill, but Leona perked up when the scene changed to when they were at the bottom.

Instead of the two lions, images of Leona in his old dorm leader uniform pinning you, wearing your own version of the Savanaclaw uniform, flashed across the screen.

Movie You kissed Movie Leona’s cheek and the scene changed to a close shot of Movie You smiling up at Movie Leona before switched to a close shot of Movie Leona smiling down at movie you.

Your movie counterparts sat up, and Movie You reached into their pocket and pulled out a black ring box, opening it and holding it out to Movie Leona.

You grabbed the pillow you had been leaning against and pulled the ring box out its hiding place. You couldn’t really kneel on the bed, so you turned your whole body to face him.

Leona’s eyes were wide in disbelief as you opened the box to show the ring you had bought for him (with the money you had earned from your odd jobs, not what he earned from Spelldrive).

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” You firstly apologized, “This wasn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to surprise you. Have us cuddle while enjoying a movie before surprising you with this,” You waved towards the screen, “and proposing. It’s funny how I planned everything but didn’t even remember that you’d be able to smell my nerves.”

You laughed humorlessly to yourself as Leona gave you a soft look, feeling a twinge of guilt.

He gently brushed you cheek and you leaned into his palm.

“I’m sorry from ruining this, (Y/n).” He apologized. You shook your head in denial.

“It’s not ruined.” You argued, taking your hand off the box and placing it on top Leona’s. “Not yet.”

“Leona,” You started, working up your confidence, “You are the best thing that's happened to me. I don’t, and will never, want anyone but you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Leona breathily agreed, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you into a kiss that you happily returned. “Yes.”

Next day’s Spelldrive game was one for the history books. The fans couldn’t remember a time they had seen the King of Spelldrive this eager and energetic.

And it wasn’t hard to figure out why when they saw the ring he refused to take off for the game flashing on his finger.

Vil Schoenheit

You were never more thankful that Vil was a movie star than when you were working on his proposal.

Vil was near impossible to surprise, so you were wondering how you were going to keep your proposal a secret.

However luck, and Vil’s manager, seemed to be on your side.

Vil got an offer to star in a huge movie that would take him away from home for a few months.

Normally you weren’t a huge fan of these offers, but this one worked in your favor.

Vil found your eagerness for him to take this offer suspicious, but ended up listening to you. You did call each other everyday and you visited him every so often during shooting, but he was away from home long enough to remain oblivious about your secret proposal.

Now to figure out what scene to propose during.

You knew Vil never cared for the movie ‘Snow White’ since the main character reminded him of too much of Neige LeBlanche and the queen died at the end, so you had to get creative.

Your original idea was to have Vil as Snow White at the end of the movie and yourself as the Prince, kissing her awake, but you weren’t sure if Vil would be in a good mood by that time if he had to sit through the movie’s entirety.

So you came up with a better idea.

After several long months without your Vil, he finally returned home. He had called you before his flight home and that's when you asked for a movie night when he got back.

Honestly, Vil was a little tired of movies after working on one for so long, but he agreed as long as he got to spend time with you.

You watched several of Vil’s old movies once he got home to put him in a good mood, knowing how grumpy he’d be when you brought up Snow White.

As you predicted, his face fell when you showed him the DVD you’d made and said it was Snow White, but didn’t do more than roll his eyes.

You started the DVD before telling him you were going to drab something from the kitchen and not to pause the movie. Unbeknownst to him, you were grabbing the ring box.

You quickly grabbed the ring from its hiding place and all but ran back to the movie room were Vil was. You didn’t have much time before your que.

You made it to the door and cracked it open just enough to see the narrator finished the introduction of the movie and the camera was zooming in on where the Queen would make her entrance.

Only, it wasn’t the Queen.

You held your breath was you watched Vil tilt his head in confusion at the sight of himself wearing his old dorm leader uniform walking up some stairs to a giant mirror.

You watched him sit up, more alert when his voice came from the audio. You had spliced together his voice in the movie using audio from his other movies.

“Lady in the Magic Mirror,” Movie Vil spoke on the screen, “Come from the farthest space. Through wind and darkness I summon thee. Speak! Let me see thy face.”

You quietly walked towards Vil, taking care that he didn’t see you. Thankfully, he was transfixed on the screen.

Instead of the normal/iconic masquerade mask in the mirror, an image of you appeared within the mirror, wearing your own version of the Pomefiore uniform

“What wouldst thou know, my Queen?“ Movie You asked Movie Vil.

“Magic Mirror on the wall, who does thy heart belong to?” Movie Vil asked.

This was it, you though to yourself, stopping behind Vil who had still yet to see you.

“My heart is yours, tis true my Queen. Tis why I bring you a wedding ring.”

Movie You and Movie Vil turned to face the audience, making your Vil’s eyes widen as he turned around in his seat to see you kneeling with a beautiful ring in your hands, held out to him.

Taking a deep breath to work up your nerve, you looked your queen in the eyes and started your proposal.

“I’m not eloquent.” You started, swallowing hard. “I’m not good with fancy words, like Rook. And I wouldn’t have known what write out for that movie if I didn’t have a reference. And I’m not perfect. Not nearly like you I see you. But I can tell you that I love you, and that I will do anything to make you happy. I’ve been doing my best so far, but I’ll do better than my best in the future. And I only want that future with you. Vil Schoenheit, will you marry me?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Vil look more soft in his life.

Pink danced across his cheeks like the prettiest blush, his eyes were the slightest bit misty, and a bright, loving grin covered his face.

“Yes. Yes, my Sweet Potato. I’d love to marry you.”

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monstersandmaw · 6 months

Text

Male dullahan x gn reader (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

OH boy, this is a personal one for me on a number of levels (which usually means it's gonna tank), but here's the first of my five new commissions - this one is for the incredibly supportive and sweet @doomfisthero.

It features one of the Supernatural Biker Gang I mentioned in this post, which a lot of you seemed to like, so I hope you're keen to meet the cheeky, goofball dullahan with a heart of gold! Not gonna lie, I went way over the agreed wordcount for this one because it's the world I've already started building, and it's got characters I've already been thinking of for a while.

Content: gender neutral reader who experiences severe anxiety around being pranked/practical joked, which occurs at one point in the story. There’s no malicious intent or bullying behind the prank, and it gets discussed afterwards. The reader is a writer, doing research for a story about bikers, and has no idea that there's something a little 'extra' about this gang. Their friend, Adi, is dating one of them already, and I hope to write their story soon too.

Wordcount: 9216

“God, this was such a stupid idea,” you muttered as you approached the only shop on that wide, empty side street. Its metal sign swung gently back and forth in a light, autumn breeze, displaying a full moon on a black background, with a cruiser-style motorbike silhouetted in front of it, and the white, artfully-distressed font underneath it read ‘Full Moon Motorcycles’.

A second later, your friend stepped out onto the pavement and you knew there was no turning back. Adrianne grinned at you, so you kicked your feet back into motion and closed the distance between you, offering her a small hug. Your leather messenger bag bumped against your hip with the movement, and you wondered if perhaps you should have left your notebook and stuff at home for this first time. It felt more like an interview than getting to know them, and you were worried the group of unfamiliar bikers might take offence that you essentially wanted to study them for your novel.

“Ready to meet the gang?” she laughed, sweeping her messy, dark blonde hair back out of her eyes. “God, you look terrified. Come on, they’re nice! Except maybe Pixie. Don’t mess with her, but she’s not here today. Or Demon, but even he’s ok when you get to know him, I swear.”

“Not helping, Adi,” you grumbled.

Ever since she’d started working for Dahlia Ink across town about six months ago, Adrianne had been hanging around with the group of bikers who all got their ink done there it seemed, and it had almost felt like serendipity in action when she’d told you about them over coffee last weekend. You didn’t tend to talk much about your writing, even with your friends, but you trusted Adi, and she’d always been supportive of your career as an author, so you’d shyly opened up to her about your latest idea for a story featuring a group of bikers. You did leave out the part where the bikers in your story were mostly vampires and werewolves, with a few other supernatural species thrown in as well. Fantasy had always been your comfort-genre, but people had snickered in the past and made you feel like it wasn’t a ‘serious’ genre that ‘serious’ writers pursued, so you’d omitted it this time while telling her about it.

“It’s the perfect excuse for you to come and finally meet Țepeș then!” she’d blurted excitedly into the foam of her cappuccino, her green-brown eyes going wide with excitement at the idea of including you in her group of new friends. They all had weird nicknames, and you had no idea if it was a ‘biker’ thing or just a ‘them’ thing, but you’d been burning up with curiosity about them ever since she’d first started dating the one called Țepeș. “I’ve been dying to find an excuse for you to come meet him. Plus you can ask him anything you want to know for your story, and — oh…”

Her face had fallen, and you’d frowned, heart dropping already. “What?”

“Eh, he’s… he’s not completely non-verbal, but Țepeș doesn’t exactly find talking easy. Maybe you could come to the shop and meet the rest of them instead though? I’m sure Pickle or Pumpkin would love to talk your ear off about their bikes…”

“I dunno, I don’t want to get in the way,” you’d said, trying not to let that tiny, kindling ember of hope in your chest wink out completely. “But if you wanted to ask them…?”

She’d run it past her boyfriend, and Țepeș had said he’d ask Hank. Hank, apparently, was the guy who ran the bike shop where they’d all met and first formed their group, and two nights later, you’d got a text in all caps from Adi saying ‘BASIC BIKER 101 FOR WRITERS IS ON!!!! When are you next free?!!!’

A week later, you and your messenger bag with notebook and pens had shown up outside Full Moon Motorcycles, with little clue what to expect, and a heart full of trepidation.

Adrianne giggled as she ushered you inside, and to your relief, you found there were only two other people inside instead of a shop full of strangers. An array of bikes for sale was lined up around the right hand side of the space, and against the back wall there was a wooden counter almost like a bar, where the vintage till and a few key chains were displayed, while the left side of the space appeared to be a more general spot for tinkering and hanging out. Even with the light flooding in through the two huge, picture windows on either side of the door, the lighting was soft, and the polished concrete floor created a mellow atmosphere. The scent of coffee and motor oil hung heavy in the air, and you found it oddly comforting as you soaked it all up.

Behind the counter, a stocky man with greying, wavy hair that wasn’t quite long enough to tie back but was too long to look tidy smiled you and raised a meaty hand. His blue tartan shirt stretched precariously over a hearty paunch, and he exuded a jovial kind of warmth as his honey-brown eyes crinkled. “Hey there,” he said. “I’m Hank, though most people round here just call me Dad —”

“— he adopts literally everyone who walks through that door, so congrats on joining the family,” Adi laughed.

“Take your pick on names,” Hank chortled. “I understand you’re a writer…” He seemed interested and a little impressed, which was a bit of a confidence boost.

“Yeah,” you croaked and cleared your throat. “Yeah… uh… thank you for letting me hang out here for a bit. I don’t know anything about bikes… I’m just looking to learn a bit so it makes sense for my novel, you know? I’m not going to get in anyone’s way.”

“Oh, you’re fine,” he smiled, gesturing dismissively with his massive paw of a hand. “You just ask what you like and we’ll do our best to help you out. You must know Țepeș already if you’re Adi’s friend?”

You shook your head and Hank looked across the room to where the other person was lurking at the back of the space. You hadn’t noticed Adi leaving your side, but when you turned around, you found her standing with both hands pressed fondly against the chest of the tall, imposing biker dressed all in black and wearing his helmet too, which you thought was an odd choice. But what did you know about the habits of bikers? You were there to learn after all; learn and observe.

Adi waved you over, and you swallowed your nerves and cast Hank a farewell glance before approaching. When Adi stepped back, Țepeș pushed himself off the wall and held out his hand to you to shake. It, like the rest of him, was covered in leather or padded gear. There wasn’t a scrap of skin showing on him anywhere, and with your own face reflected in his black visor, it was impossible to get a read on him.

As if she’d read your mind, Adi smacked Țepeș in the chest with the back of her hand and said, “At least put your visor up, you big, intimidating doofus.”

He snorted a silent laugh and lifted the catch on his visor to reveal a sliver of pale skin and irises as black as the rest of his leather gear. Like Hank’s though, his eyes were kindly, and he closed them briefly as he inclined his head in a kind of apologetic bow. You shrugged, and he laughed breathily.

Hank chose that moment to come over, and you jumped as he clapped you on the shoulders. How a man built like a grizzly in autumn had moved so quietly was a mystery. “Come on, Țepeș, why don’t we give our new friend a demonstration of how a bike works? Since your Ducati is in, why don’t we use that?”

Țepeș gave a quick nod, and ducked away through the door that stood in the centre of the back wall, and a moment later, he pushed an absolute monster of a bike out into the empty space. He jutted his chin towards the front door, and Adi nipped over to open it for him, and when you frowned, she laughed. “That Streetfighter is so fucking loud,” she snorted. “You do not want him starting it up in here.”

“And nor do I!” Hank called, now mysteriously back behind the till though you hadn’t heard him leave. You made a mental note to weave something like that into your story for the supernatural biker characters, and then nodded, feeling sheepish, and followed the two of them out of the shop and onto the quiet side-street outside.

Until six months ago, Adi hadn’t known anything about bikes either, so she used your introductory tutorial as a kind of test for herself, interspersed with little glances up at Țepeș to check that she’d got it right. He either nodded or pointed to correct her, but he didn’t speak. She hadn’t been kidding about him being mostly non-verbal.

After Adi had shown you the basics of the bike’s anatomy, Țepeș patted the seat of the bike and gestured to her to get on it, but she laughed and shook her head. “No way, babe. I’m way too short.”

He put his fists comically on his hips and shook his head, then patted the seat again like he was trying to get a wilful cat up onto a chair.

She made a noise of protest, but did swing a leg over and then hoisted herself evenly into the seat, both legs dangling freely a good way off the ground.

“Happy now?” she shot at him and he nodded emphatically, bringing both hands to the sides of his helmet in a way that mimicked a person losing their mind over a cute kitten. “You’re lucky I love you, you overgrown dork,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she said, turning back to you. “Since this beast has made me get up here, I’m going to start his bike. Not so funny now that I could actually fuck it up, is it?” she grinned.

Țepeș remained perfectly still, and you got the impression it was a comical warning.

“I can’t flat-foot it,” she said to you, “So I’m gonna rest my left foot on the curb after I’ve flicked the kickstand up,” she said. “You can’t start most bikes with the kickstand still down.”

You noted that down, and let her get on with the rest of the sequence uninterrupted, which seemed a lot more complicated than you’d imagined.

Near the end of your tutorial on how to start a bike and the basics of clutch control, and the apparent struggle to find neutral, the sound of a number of approaching engines tore through the quiet afternoon. You looked back over your shoulder to see three sports bikes round the corner and make their way towards you.

The three riders couldn’t have been more different. The one you noticed first was riding a big, brash, bright orange bike that reminded you a bit of a sporty looking dirt bike, and he was wearing, of all things, a black and white cow onesie, with a cow helmet cover complete with fabric horns and ears.

“Fucking Pumpkin,” Adi laughed. “Honestly. I think you’ll love him.”

“Pumpkin?” you asked, wondering how on earth he’d got that name. Then again, Țepeș was a pretty unusual nickname. Perhaps he was a vampire under all that leather, shielding himself from the fury of the sun with his biker gear just so he could spend more time with his human lover during the day… You yanked your over-active imagination back into the present and out of your fantasy novel, and watched the trio of bikers approach down the quiet side street.

“Yeah, Pumpkin’s his name. It’s because he’s a —” Țepeș elbowed Adi in the ribs sharply enough that she had to grab the handlebars to stop herself toppling off his bike. Her eyes went wide and she instantly clicked her jaw shut.

As an author, you were used to watching and studying people, and noting your observations for later. Another writer you knew online had called it ‘cataloguing the everyday’, and it was an apt description. Adi had very nearly given away something huge about Pumpkin, and Țepeș had given her a silent but stern warning.

“Because he loves pranks, like on Halloween?” she finished a little too quickly. “He dresses up with silly helmet covers all the time and he likes to play jokes on people.”

Maybe he wasn’t your kind of person at all. The very idea of having a practical joke pulled on you was enough to make you feel sick and shaky all over. You'd always hated them, and they’d always left you feeling devastated and on-edge if they happened to you. The more you trusted the person, the worse it felt afterwards.

Țepeș’ huge hand landed carefully on your shoulder joint and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly at you. At least, you thought he was smiling reassuringly. All you could see were his glinting black eyes that were creased at the corners, and the way the apples of his pale cheeks were slightly more squished than usual behind the padding in his helmet.

You tried out a smile of your own, and then realised that Adi was talking again.

“He’s such a goofball, but that’s got to be his craziest outfit yet! You should see his other helmet covers; they’re all bonkers. My favourite is the pink rabbit one.”

Țepeș nodded once in agreement and let go of your shoulder. You swayed a little at the loss, feeling untethered.

“The guy on the red Ducati is Demon, and the short one on the Ninja in the middle is Pickle.”

When the newcomers spotted the three of you standing around Țepeș’ bike, Pumpkin revved raucously, almost seeming to make his bike laugh with joy at the sight of you. Then he hauled it up into a massive wheelie, only dropping back down once he’d torn past you in a near-vertical pose. Your heart was in your mouth the whole time, but he looked relaxed and even amused behind that absurd costume as he landed it and swerved the bike around to make his way back towards you while the other two came over in a more sedate fashion. In fact, they were so sedate it reminded you of two sharks approaching, and your mouth went dry. Adi had said they were cool with you being there and asking questions, but just then, it didn’t really feel like it.

The one riding the lurid, neon green bike was so short that you wondered for a crazy second if maybe they were a child. The owner of the red bike revved his something wicked as he cruised to a stop, and you had to fight the urge to step back. It felt like being roared at full in the face by a lion, and it didn’t help at all that the guy had curling ram’s horns adorning his black helmet. Even though it was a nippy autumn day, he was wearing a white t-shirt that showed off a golden tan and a truly impressive physique, and his black jeans had a rip in the knee that added to his tough-guy appearance.

Standing beside his own bike, Țepeș folded his arms and jutted his chin in a warning. Demon revved his deafening bike once more though, and the back wheel skimmed from side to side on the tarmac as blue smoke churned up into the air.

Țepeș shook his head and a few seconds later, Demon stopped his mini burnout, and instead leaned forwards on the bike, resting one arm casually on the tank. His whole attention was fixed on you and you tried hard not to regret all of this. It was research. You were here for your story. It was fine. His visor was tinted like Țepeș’ was, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze through the plastic just as clearly as if there had been nothing blocking his eyes from yours.

“Just giving a welcome to your new friend, Țepeș,” the guy purred in a silky baritone that made you think of teeth in the dark.

As the brief puff of acrid smoke from his tyres cleared, the short rider flipped their visor up and regarded you with beady, golden eyes that had to be contacts, surely? Even the pupils were slitted like a cat’s.

“Who’s this?” came a reedy, tenor voice from under the helmet. Definitely not a child after all, and their skin had a strange, greenish tinge to it that you initially took to be makeup until you realised it went all the way down their cheeks as well. Tattoos? Some kind of condition? You tried not to stare.

Before either you or Adi could respond to their question, the cow onesie rider screeched to a comical halt beside the other two, locking up the front wheel and making the rear of his bike kick up like a bronco, and Adi shook her head. “Pumpkin, honestly. What are you like?”

“I’m Legen-dairy!” he grinned, gesturing wide with both hands. “Oh, hey! New friend?!” he exclaimed, waving enthusiastically when he saw you standing awkwardly beside Țepeș’ bike. He had a lilting Irish accent and a playful intonation that warmed you to him immediately, despite knowing about his penchant for practical jokes.

“Don’t mind Pumpkin,” Adi smiled at you. “He’s… something else.”

“I’m highly a-moo-sing, is what I am,” the guy chuckled. His words sounded clearer than the others behind their helmets, and you wondered if it was something about the design that made it easier to hear him.

“Oh god, please stop with the cow puns,” Pickle groaned, casting him a withering look with those unusual eyes.

“But Pickle, I’m udderly fantastic!”

“Stop.”

“This is just plain bull-ying!” Pumpkin whined, and then he started to bop up and down on his bike as he sang, “My milkshake brings—”

“If you howl one more out of tune word, Demon will eat you for breakfast, and not in a fun way,” Pickle said, casting a glance at the biker with the horns on his helmet.

For answer, the biker in question cocked his head just a little to one side, and Pumpkin slumped in his seat, arms and legs dangling comically, head lolling forwards so that the soft horns on his helmet cover flopped. He let out a long, sad mooing noise sound that dissolved into giggles at the end, and Pickle punched him on the arm.

“Loser,” Pickle snorted with obvious fondness.

“Anyway, I want you to meet my friend,” Adi cut in, turning to you. “I’m sorry you had to meet Pumpkin when he’s in this mood, but —”

“Moo-d!” Pumpkin interrupted triumphantly and immediately burst out laughing. He almost tipped backwards off his big, orange bike. Even you managed to crack a shy smile at that one. It was infectious.

“I give up,” Pickle said, and hopped down off his green Kawasaki, disappearing into the shop without a backward glance just as Hank stepped out.

“How’s that lesson going?” he asked you.

“I’m not planning on riding solo any time soon,” you smiled, “But I’ve got enough of an idea of how things work to start writing, I think.”

Hank nodded and, glancing around at Pumpkin who was still bouncing up and down and making his suspension creak a little, said, “Ah, they’re all idiots, but they’re kind, and they’re my idiots.”

He introduced you by name, and told Pumpkin and Demon why you were there. Pumpkin seemed intrigued, tilting his head to one side and calming his crazy energy a little as he regarded you through the tinted visor, but Demon growled softly as he pushed himself upright again and folded his arms across his ripped chest, muttering something about letting their guard down again.

Țepeș moved away from his bike, petting the back of Adi’s blonde head in a fond, distracted gesture, and then signalled for Demon to follow him inside, which, to your surprise, the big guy did. He walked like a Greek god — like he owned the place and not Hank — but it was clear that he had respect for Țepeș.

Pumpkin took advantage of their absence and leaned a little way off his bike towards you. “So, you’re a writer? That’s pretty cool. And you’re writing a… a book? A story? About bikers?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the main focus, but it’s a big part of it.” If you hadn’t wanted to open up to Adi about it being a supernatural fantasy story, you sure as heck weren’t going to admit it to a bunch of intimidating, high-octane bikers. “It was Adi who suggested I come and learn a bit more about it all from you guys though…” you said, not wanting them to think you’d just inserted yourself into their group without invitation. Especially given Demon’s weird reaction.

“Awesome,” Pumpkin said, fist-bumping Adi then turning back to you. “You gonna ride with us? We’re all heading out in a bit so you should come too!”

“I… maybe?” you faltered. That had not been on the cards for the day, but the more you thought about it, the more your heart began to race.

“The KTM has a passenger seat,” Pumpkin said, gesturing behind him and patting his pillion seat. “You can be my backpack if you like! I promise I won’t wheelie. I’m not taking the onesie off though,” he added, mooing and shaking his head so that the fabric horns waggled comically.

His energy and enthusiasm really were infectious. He bounced up and down again like an excitable, cow-print puppy, and you bit your lip. The idea of holding onto him, of being perched on the back of his mad, orange bike, was oddly… enticing. Even with his embarrassing costume.

“Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun! It’s only a short ride because Coco’s Honda’s playing up for some reason,” he added. “Is she here yet? I don’t see her little bumblebee…”

“Bumblebee?” you asked.

“Coco’s bike is a Honda Hornet,” Adi supplied. “She’s got these little antennae for her helmet too. It’s so cute. And no,” she added to Pumpkin. “You guys are the first.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the day’s riders to arrive, and soon you watched a screaming pink bike roll up, with its rider wearing baby pink leathers and a pink helmet. Her name was Barbie, appropriately enough, and a few minutes later, a skinny guy in all black leathers with a black helmet bearing a decal like a maw full of teeth pulled up, alongside Coco on her black and yellow Honda Hornet that looked very much like the Transformer.

“I see why you call it Bumblebee,” you said to Adi, who was standing on the pavement with you, chatting and slipping you random bits of information about both the bikes and the bikers. The others had all gone inside, leaving you with Adi still casually sitting astride her boyfriend’s enormous, black Ducati Streetfighter outside in the sunshine, and honestly it was nice to catch your breath and let your heart rate settle again.

Pumpkin, apparently, was only a few years older than you, and he had moved to the city to get away from his family and their career expectations for him. His name was actually Callahan, or Cal, but literally everyone called him Pumpkin.

Pickle was non-binary and surprisingly a full decade older than you. They lived with their mother, who needed a bit of extra care these days, and had taken up riding only a year or so ago. Demon, Adi didn’t discuss at all, and she said little about Barbie other than that she kept herself to herself a lot and was pretty shy.

Coco came out to soak up some autumn sunshine a while later, and was one of the only bikers who actually took off her helmet. Beneath it, she had thick, wavy, chocolate brown hair and brown eyes that made you want to drown in them, and a smile so pretty it made your heart skip several beats. She gave off the kind of energy that made you feel safe and relaxed, and you let out a long, slow exhale, feeling the sun wash up over your skin.

That peace lasted until Demon stormed out of the shop, followed by Pumpkin, Țepeș, and Pickle.

“Everything ok?” Adi whispered to Țepeș when he came over and hugged her tightly from behind before passing her a spare helmet. He nodded and jerked his thumb towards his bike. “Yeah, I’m good to go. You coming?” she asked you, and you found yourself nodding before you’d even realised.

“Yes!” Pumpkin bayed in triumph and you startled, not having heard him return to his bike. “You’re mine! I claim you. You’re my backpack!”

“Like anyone else wants a human for baggage,” Demon muttered so quietly you weren’t sure you were supposed to have heard it. As he passed, he slammed his visor back down and you could have sworn that he’d had completely scarlet eyes. You wondered if you were losing your mind a little bit, or if the fantasy of your novel was beginning to bleed into the real world through your over-active imagination.

Pumpkin practically vaulted back up onto his orange bike and he held out his hand to you. “Alright! My precious and beautiful backpack,” he said, “Hop on!”

Easier said than done, you thought, ignoring the compliment. You watched your reflection distort in his visor as he turned his head when you faltered anxiously.

“I’ll look after you, I promise. But I’m gonna rely on you to tell me if Pickle’s coming for my killswitch, ok?”

Recalling your brief lesson with Țepeș, you eyed the red switch on his right handlebar and said, “That?”

“Yeah, that. Protect it at all costs,” he giggled. “I mean, not all costs, obviously but… Actually, scratch that. It’s Ninja you wanna watch out for. He’s a sneaky, sneaky boy. He blends in so no one sees him coming…” A few of them laughed in a way that made you feel like there was more to it than just an inside joke, and your stomach churned.

A glance back at the skinny guy on the black bike behind you revealed Ninja tilting his hands outwards in a ‘who, me?’ kind of gesture. Hank came over and gave you a helmet, taking your messenger bag from you and promising to keep it safe behind the counter. You slid the helmet on and buckled it up, trying not to feel like an impostor.

Getting aboard wasn’t as hard as you’d thought it was going to be, with brief instruction from Adi and Pumpkin on how to put your feet on the pegs, though you did clunk your helmet against Pumpkin’s when you leaned too far forward, but he made things easier by telling you to hold him round the waist. He turned back over one shoulder and said, “It’s kinda forward, but I don’t mind. You’re cute and I don’t want you falling off.” He had such a lovely voice — warm and rich and reassuring — and you found yourself laughing softly.

“If you say so.”

Pumpkin talked a mile a minute and you really had to work to process everything he was saying as it tumbled out of him in a wild, happy torrent. “You are cute! You’re gonna have a blast today. I can’t believe I’m your first! Oh, and watch out for silly string too. I don’t think Pickle has any in their pocket today, but last time they got me good and it was all over my helmet and my orange baby,” he added petting the tank of his bike.

Your heart lurched at the idea of these pranks maybe escalating, and you tried to swallow down the nausea; you did not want to be sick in a motorcycle helmet. The cold sweat took a while to evaporate and you were sure Pumpkin would feel your heartbeat as you clung onto him before he’d even started the bike. The cow onesie did add a little levity though, and you tried not to feel too silly.

When Adi was safely aboard Țepeș’ bike, Țepeș revved his readiness a few times from the rear of the group, and Pumpkin nodded. “Forward!” he yelled, pointing like he was leading a cavalry charge as he nudged up his kickstand and prepared to draw away.

Adi had been right.

The ride was amazing.

Terrifying, exhilarating, wonderful, and, in the strangest way possible, it made you forget everything.

All you could focus on was the way Pumpkin moved with the bike like it was a part of him — almost like a rider and his horse — and on trying to move with him as he leaned into the corners. He was slim and fit beneath your grip, and he didn’t seem to be wearing any kind of padding under the onesie, but he was wearing biker boots instead of ordinary shoes. There was something alluring about the fact you’d not seen his face and he’d not taken his helmet off. Țepeș had a similar vibe, but it was Pumpkin and his wild, silly energy you found yourself drawn to. It was almost euphoric to be able to press the front of your body against this kind, funny stranger’s back and let him sweep you along the roads.

Of course, there were shenanigans at the first red light you came to.

Pickle came for Pumpkin’s killswitch immediately — almost like they were testing you — but you tapped Pumpkin on the shoulder when you saw Pickle stalking up the line of bikes. Ninja covered his killswitch and waggled a finger at Pickle, and when Pumpkin saw who was coming, he patted your thigh a few times. “Nice one,” he said with a grin evident in his voice. “Best early warning system and best backpack ever! You can ride with me every time!”

You glowed with pride, even though you knew it was probably only fun and games, and when Pickle failed to catch Pumpkin’s killswitch and the lights changed, you laughed with the rest of them as Pickle bolted back to their Ninja and hopped comically onto it at the very last second while Pumpkin sped away fast enough to make you yelp and grip him hard around the middle. You felt him laugh and held him tighter.

He petted your hands where they were laced securely in front of him, and even though you didn’t have comms in your helmet, you got the message: ‘I’ve got you’. You did feel safe with him despite his love of pranks, and you were literally trusting him with your life as you rode behind him.

When the ride came to an end about an hour later, and the group drew to a halt at Full Moon Motorcycles again, you were shaky with the aftereffects of adrenaline and from simply holding on, but beneath your helmet, you were grinning wildly. Secretly, you already couldn’t wait for the next ride and prayed he would ask you again.

Pickle pulled their bike up on your right, the green Ninja 400 idling gently, and when they killswitched Pumpkin’s bike at last, Pumpkin guffawed, but without missing a beat he extended his right leg and tapped the gear lever down to put Pickle’s bike into first, making the bike stall and lurch forwards.

“Gotcha!” he crowed, and then helped you off the back by letting you steady yourself on his shoulders. “And for the pièce de résistance,” he said, fishing in the pouch of his onesie, and he turned something cylindrical in your direction. “I was saving this for Pickle, but since it’s your first ride, you deserve a decent celebration!”

With a loud bang and a flurry of coloured squares of paper, a confetti cannon went off in your face and you screeched in shock, tripping over your heels and landing hard on the pavement behind you. The pieces of paper fluttered down around you while panic and fear and everything you hated about being pranked exploded out of you. Your heartbeat went through the roof. You just glimpsed the horns of Demon’s helmet in the doorway to the shop, and your heart dropped when you saw he was laughing.

Pumpkin was laughing too, and pointing, and beside him Pickle clapped their gloved hands and crooned, “Oh man, he got you good!”

He had got you good, and you hated it.

You hated that it was just a silly, harmless prank, but you were reacting like he’d done something serious. You hated that you couldn’t just laugh it off the way they all did. You hated that you took it so seriously; that it felt like the worst kind of betrayal of that fragile trust you’d started to put in a stranger. And then, behind the visor of your helmet, the tears began to flow uncontrollably.

A huge figure appeared in your blurred vision and you looked up to find Țepeș kneeling down beside you. He blocked the others from your sight with his massive body, and he lifted his visor to show his black eyes full of concern.

You nodded, trying to pull yourself together and grateful beyond belief that the helmet was still covering your face, even though it felt like you were running out of oxygen in there. Pulling yourself together was like trying to hold a bag full of sand with fraying seams. You were seeping and spilling out all over the place and you couldn’t stop. You tried to tell yourself it was just a confetti cannon. You tried to tell yourself it was just a bit of fun.

You tried, and failed.

“I’m… I’m ok… I’m…” you gulped, aware of how choked your voice sounded.

Țepeș stood and held out a hand, pulling you to your feet and ushering you carefully inside. You didn’t miss the way he put himself between you and Demon, who was still snickering in the doorway, and you let him lead you into the shop and into the back room.

He snagged a box of tissues from under the shop’s counter in passing and guided you into a chair. He signalled for you to undo your helmet, which you did with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry,” you gulped as you drew it off over your head and set it on the floor. “I’m sorry I’m overreacting.”

Țepeș shook his head and squeezed your shoulder, offering you a tissue.

“It’s just a prank, I know that, but…”

Again, he squeezed your shoulder, and you took a deeper, steadier breath.

“I hate pranks. Even the harmless ones. I always overreact like this. I’m sorry. It’s not his fault, but… I thought… I thought maybe he… he wouldn’t…”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Țepeș made a ‘stay there’ gesture with his hand and ducked out of the room. A short, seemingly one-sided conversation passed outside while you fought to control yourself again, and then Pumpkin ducked inside.

“Hey,” he said, and your heart broke a little at the change in his energy. It was like he’d completely deflated. He was still wearing the cow onesie though, which brought a slightly hysterical chuckle to your lips before you could stop it. “I’m so sorry,” he said, dropping to one knee in front of your chair. “I… I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

“It’s not you,” you said, sniffling and turning away, cuffing at your eyes. “I just overreacted.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he said, and your brain screeched to a halt.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have done it to you. I didn’t know if you were cool with it, and I just assumed that… that because everyone else likes my pranks… that you’d be ok with it too, and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll never ever pull anything like that on you again. Ever.” He crossed his thumb across his heart. “I swear on my True Name.”

The wording was odd, but the air seemed to crystallise around you for a second, and your breath caught. “Like a Fae,” you mumbled without thinking.

He tilted his helmeted head a little. “Yeah,” he said and his voice had an odd ring to it. “You… You know about… about the Fae?”

“I’m writing a book…” you croaked, not really thinking about what you were saying. “Supernatural theme… I’ve always written fantasy stuff… Look, I’m sorry. I’m over-sharing about stuff that isn’t even real. I’m good,” you said, and stood up abruptly, setting your borrowed helmet down on the chair and turning to look at him. He was on his feet again, but he was just standing there.

You walked out into the main shop but he called your name and you halted and turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Are… Are you gonna come back?”

You bit your lip. You probably had enough to write the book now — the biker part of it wasn’t even the main focus after all — but until the prank, you’d felt included and welcomed, and, as you thought about it, the prank had also been meant to welcome you into the fold. It wasn’t Pumpkin’s fault that you had reacted the way you did.

“You want me to?” you asked.

“Please,” he said. “Please, I’d love it. I’ve… I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted to be my backpack before, and you rode like a natural today,” he added, taking a step towards you. “Please. I promise no one will do any pranks when you’re with us. No silly string, no confetti cannons.”

“I don’t mind it… With the others, I mean,” you said, the words grinding out of you like a boulder uphill. “I mean… So long as it’s not me.”

“Ok, we’ll dial it back,” he compromised. “I’ll even give you one of my little stretchy sticky hands if you like so you can team up on Pickle with me. We duel at the lights sometimes. Does that count as a prank?”

You shook your head, fighting back a resurgence of emotions, mostly good this time.

“Ok. I’m really sorry,” he said again.

“I believe you,” you said.

“Thank you,” Pumpkin replied, his whole body looking relieved. It was amazing how expressive someone could be, even without being able to see their face. “Let me give you my number and I’ll text you when we’re going out next. Or… Or maybe we could go out just the two of us?”

That seemed like way more pressure than you’d been expecting, but you nodded all the same when you realised you weren’t put off by it at all.

As you left the shop not long afterwards, having recovered enough to let the red fade from your eyes, Demon looked you up and down and then approached Pumpkin. You glanced back over your shoulder to see him looming down over Pumpkin, and you just caught him growling, “What happens when you need to take that helmet off eh, Dullahan? You think that cute accent is going to be enough to hide the fact you don’t have a fucking head under there?”

Your breath caught and you tripped, turning away before either of them could notice your reaction.

For a moment, when Demon had spat the word ‘Dullahan’ you’d thought he’d said ‘Callahan’ — Pumpkin’s real name — but the instant he’d said Pumpkin didn’t have a head, your mind made the connection.

Dullahan.

A Fae without a head, traditionally a headless horseman.

The way Pumpkin had moved with his bike, like it was a living creature, had reminded you of a horse and its rider, and you had to wonder if the nickname ‘Pumpkin’ had come from the cartoonish depictions of Dullahans on Halloween with a pumpkin for a head instead of their real one. They did have a head, you knew from research for your writing, but they tended to keep it hidden since that was where their power resided. They could only be harmed if you hurt their head, or if they were wearing it when you attacked them.

But that was all fantasy, right?

Then Demon’s red eyes flickered across your memory, and the weird emphasis he’d put on the word ‘human’ in his snide remarks, and the way you’d thought maybe Țepeș was a vampire because he kept his skin covered up, and the fact that Pickle’s skin was entirely green and they had gold eyes with cat’s pupils… it was all way too much of a coincidence. Right?

You walked home in a daze, not even saying goodbye to Adi who was talking quietly with Țepeș in the long, late afternoon shadows cast by the bike shop’s wall.

Over the next few rides with Pumpkin, you tried to figure out a way to broach the topic. If you just blurted it out, you had no idea how the others would react, so you dropped little hints to Pumpkin that you were writing a supernatural story and that you’d been researching the supernatural for a while, and how you’d always hoped there was more out there than met the eye. You even mentioned it a couple of times on group rides to see how the others reacted, and predictably, it was Demon who bristled, and Pumpkin who looked uncomfortable. Like he had a secret he wanted to tell you.

Each time you did it, he looked torn, like he was right on the cusp of telling you the truth.

It finally came to an ugly head one afternoon as the riding season drew to a close in late October and you all came back from a huge group ride that had included a few more riders whom you’d not met before, but who evidently knew the rest of the group.

As you went inside to return the helmet that Hank always lent you, you caught the sound of an argument and hung back in the small storage room behind the main shop to avoid it, heart in your throat and the helmet forgotten in one hand.

Pickle was standing in the main area of the shop with their helmet dangling from their hand this time, and you gasped when you saw sharply-tapered ears and a row of pointed teeth in their mouth, and green skin that went all the way down below their collar. Definitely not a tattoo. They looked sharp, their features inhuman; like one of the goblins in your novel. If you’d needed confirmation that they weren’t human, this had to be it.

Pickle was arguing with Adi and Demon, and Pumpkin was there too, looking helplessly from one to the other of them.

Demon was shouting, and he didn’t have his helmet on either. Perhaps they’d thought you’d already left. The horns that adorned his helmet were… actually attached to his head, not his helmet. He had horns. They obviously grew from his hairline, his black hair waving around them like a river of oil that had a rainbow sheen on it, and his eyes were a luminous, blood-red with slit pupils too. He rounded on Pumpkin like a Wolf on a rabbit. “You think just because we let Țepeș’ little human blood-bag in, we can risk exposing us all to just anyone?” Demon snarled. “I thought you wanted to keep our kind a secret? Now you’re siding with him?”

“Hey!” Adi exclaimed, but Pickle’s lip curled and they turned to her.

“He has got a point, Adi, though the blood-bag comment was way out of line,” Pickle said. “We have to be careful, but —”

“This is different,” Pumpkin interjected. “Ok? I’ve never been in love before, and I love —”

“No. It’s not fucking ok! This is the one place we get to be who we are,” Demon countered, his deep voice cracking as he clearly fought off tears. He sounded afraid and upset in a way that went right to your heart. “This is the one place where we can be safe, Cal, and you’re jeopardising it for all of us. And if we start letting humans in, if our secret gets out —”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Pickle said faintly, staring straight at you watching the argument unfold, stunned. They were arguing because of you. Because Pumpkin had taken a liking to you — in fact, he’d just said he loved you…

A pair of gold eyes and a pair of scarlet eyes stared at you, while Adi stood there hugging herself and looking hurt and unsure, and Pumpkin was standing stock still with his black helmet still on but you knew he was looking at you too. Was he going to defend you, or discard you and stick with his friends? They weren’t human. None of them was human. Demon’s eyes were blaring a violent red and he had horns growing out of his black hairline and curling back over his head, and there was a watercolour patch of red creeping over his golden tan as if he was losing control of his form. And Pickle was apparently some kind of goblin?

“You’re a Dullahan,” you said quietly, looking at Pumpkin. “A Fae.”

“You know?” Demon hissed, taking half a step towards you. “How the fuck do you know?” and then he shoved Pumpkin back with a hand at each shoulder. “You’ve taken your helmet off already? Did you disclose your head’s location while you were at it?”

Pumpkin shook his head vehemently but then he lifted his shiny, black helmet off in what looked like an act of defiance to Demon.

In the void where his head should have been there was a swirl of bluish-green smoke emanating from the stump of his neck, like the aurora in the night sky, and his skin was a dark, slate-blue colour. Your mind struggled to accept what you were seeing, but with the additional evidence of Pickle’s green skin and Demon’s horns, you knew it all had to be true.

Walking closer, as if moving through a dream, you ignored Demon’s constant, caged-animal growl, but you did jump when the door flew open and Țepeș burst in. He strode straight over to Adi and wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, tugging her close and putting himself between her and the others. He cocked his head in an impatiently curious manner and Adi answered his silent demand.

“Demon’s laying into Pumpkin about flirting with a human while hiding what he is,” Adrianne said, glaring flatly at Demon. “And he called me your blood-bag,” she added.

Țepeș’ fists curled, leather creaking, and he took a long, slow inhale, as though he was trying very hard not to lose control and launch himself at Demon.

Before anything else could happen, someone clapped their hands abruptly from the side of the shop where the till and the bikes were arrayed, and you all jumped.

Hank was standing there and his eyes were glowing golden. “This family is built on trust,” he said in a low, gravelly bass, and you saw that his canines were chunkier and longer than they usually were, and his hair seemed thicker and fuller, his beard a little bushier around the chops. “And if we welcome each other into it, we must be prepared to trust each other’s judgement.”

“We’re just a little research project!” Demon said, rounding on you. “Adi told you what we are, didn’t she, so you thought you’d come and study us like a science experiment?”

You were still staring at Pumpkin’s empty collar and wondering in an odd, detached kind of way where it would be considered polite for you to look now — did you look at the point where his eyes would be if he had a head, or did you look at his chest? Only a second or two later did Demon’s words filter through and you blinked. “What?”

“You’re writing a fucking book about us! How does that count as trustworthy?”

“I’m not — It’s not about you,” you shot back. “The book isn’t about you. The protagonist is dating a vampire who’s in a biker gang, but… Adi didn’t tell me anything at all about you. I didn’t know you weren’t human until… until I overheard you accusing Pumpkin a few weeks ago. You said something about not having a head under his helmet, and you called him a Dullahan.” You swallowed thickly and watched the shock filter through everyone’s expressions at your words. “At first I thought you were saying his name, but then I realised you said ‘Dullahan’, not ‘Callahan’, and because I’ve looked into supernatural stuff, I put two and two together. I’ve known for weeks,” you said, chest heaving as you fought to maintain some semblance of composure while you finished your defence. “I could have said something, or I could have just not come back, but I trusted you guys.” Tears finally blurred your vision. “You treated me like family. Why would I betray you?”

Pumpkin moved first.

He strode across he space, dropping his helmet on the floor with a loud crack that would have made anyone who needed a helmet to protect their head wince, but you figured his was purely for decoration and disguise anyway. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you close to his body. His arms almost lifted you off the ground and he cradled your head in one hand while his left arm curled around your waist and squeezed you so tight you gave a little wheeze.

His voice came from nowhere in particular, just like it did when he had the helmet on, and he said, “You are family. And I love you. If I have to leave this one to be with you, I will.”

Your heart stopped for a moment before you hugged him back, desperately. “Don’t. Not for me.”

He only hugged you harder.

From somewhere off to your left, Hank gave a low, rumbling growl and then muttered, “Kids. Honestly.” Then a little louder, he said, “Demon, go and cool off somewhere. Țepeș, for God’s sake, stand down, and Pickle, go and put the fucking kettle on. I need a cup of tea with half a bottle of whisky in it after all this drama.”

Pumpkin drew back at last, and you looked up at the haze of blue-green smoke that seemed to swirl upwards in a constant stream, like a recently extinguished candle. “How can you see me?” you asked. And then, with a little more alarm in your tone, you yelped, “Wait, how can you see where you’re driving?”

He laughed and leaned in close enough that the aurora-light swirled across your vision and caressed your face with a feather light breath, and you shivered. “Magic,” he whispered.

Demon hadn’t gone anywhere, and was regarding you with a more level gaze. His eyes were still red though. “You knew?” he said. “All this time?”

“Yeah,” you croaked as you refocused your eyes from the magic of the Dullahan’s body to Demon’s very much corporeal body. “I mean, I suspected.”

He sighed, still staring you down. Pumpkin stepped a little in front of you, much as Țepeș had for Adi, but Demon shook his head. He worked his jaw for a second and then slowly held out his right hand. His skin was red instead of the golden tan it had been, and his nails were black and claw-like, but the gesture was one of reconciliation all the same. “Welcome to the family, I guess,” he muttered hoarsely.

You smiled faintly, and Pumpkin took your left hand in a show of solidarity, sliding his gloved fingers around yours while you briefly shook Demon’s hand. “I really didn’t know what you guys were when you said I could come and hang out with you, I swear.”

“I know,” Demon bit out. “I can taste a lie, and you’re telling the truth.”

With that, he stalked away and carefully slotted his helmet on over his horns. You realised that there were specially-tailored holes in the crown of it for the horns to fit through, but when it was on, some kind of glamour made it look like the horns were just attached to the surface of the helmet. Outside, he swung a leg over his Ducati and started it up, revving it and launching away amid a scream of tyres and over-worked engine.

“Give him time,” Pumpkin said as he looked down at you. In the swirl of the smoke at his neck you thought you could make out the features of a face for a moment, but you blinked and it vanished. “You’re family now though, so he won’t give you any more trouble.”

“He did just insult Adi pretty spectacularly,” you pointed out.

“And he’ll apologise to her,” Pumpkin said. Țepeș loomed threateningly beside Adi in silent agreement. “For now, you want to come for a ride with just me? Come back to my place maybe?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Bet you have questions too…”

“You going to fact-check my novel for me?” you asked with a playful smile, and Pumpkin laughed. It felt right to hear his loud, giggly laughter filling the space again.

“You’d actually have to let me read it for that, love, and you said you didn’t like showing your work to anyone until it was done.”

“I could make an exception for you, I guess,” you admitted with a bashful smile.

With Pumpkin still holding your hand, you paused on your way out to check on Adi, who looked a little hurt but otherwise alright, and you promised to check in with her later. Țepeș handed Pumpkin his helmet, and you let yourself be led from the shop. Your helmet was still in your slightly numb fingers, never having put it down, so you slid it back on with shaky hands.

After climbing with familiar ease back up onto the pillion seat of Pumpkin’s orange KTM, you snaked your arms around his middle and squeezed.

“I’m sorry it all came out this way,” Pumpkin said before he started up his bike. “This was not how I planned to tell you. I had no idea how I was going to break it to you, but that… that wasn’t it. I know you hate surprises, and that was a big one.”

“Not all surprises are bad,” you admitted. “And this one turned out ok in the end. Come on. I want to find out how much I’ve got wrong about the Fae.”

Pumpkin guffawed, his laughter audible even after he’d started up his bike and pulled away.

Turns out, you’d quite a lot wrong about the Fae after all, but Pumpkin was only too happy to put you right over pizza and a movie on his sofa that evening.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one. If you did, please consider reblogging to show your support as well as leaving a like and/or a comment.

Do you want to see the other members of the group? Remember you can find out more about them here in this early post if you're curious. Tepes already has a love interest, and Ninja the mimic is claimed too, but if you're curious, lemme know!

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#supernatural biker group #dullahan #male dullahan #dullahan x reader #reader insert #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster biker #fantasy biker #biker dullahan #demon #vampire #werewolf

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons of gn s/o in a poly! relationship with Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor where they're quietly asking Rolan & Zevlor to save them from Dammon's strong grip when they see them? Dammon had a lot of requests while s/o was busy helping others so both of them were so exhausted that they fell asleep together after talking. They woke up & tried to slip out but failed XD

Adorable. So so SWEET. I’m putting in blurb, I hope that’s okay!

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

It would’ve been days since you and Dammon had a break at the shop. You had recently set up an apothecary alongside the Tiefling’s blacksmith shop, excited to be working closer to Dammon. This meant you could spend more time together. Throughout the days, Rolan and Zevlor would also visit the two of you, bringing flowers or a baked surprise. Lately, though, the shops were almost to busy to eat dinner, let alone spend time with your other two men.

As you looked across your stall to see Dammon, pity rose in your chest. He looked as exhausted as you felt, black soot smudged across his forehead as he sharpened the latest commissioned blade. You had just finished your own work, finally nailing the potion your last customer asked for. You gave it to them with a smile, flipping your ‘Open for business sign’ happily.

You wiped your hands against your apron, walking the short distance to Dammon’s blacksmith. “Almost done?” You called out.

Dammon lifted his head with a smile, nodding, “Just finished the last of the sharpening.”

He held up the sword toward the light, carefully checking over it for any imperfections. It was nice seeing how passionate he was with his work, but you didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes.

“Do you have any more orders after that?” You asked, getting closer to gaze at the blade. It was beautiful, swirls of grey winding through the hardened steel.

“No .” He shook his head. “After this one, I’m finally free. At least till tomorrow.” He chuckled.

You followed close behind as he sat the sword on a display before plopping down into the chair close by. He patted his lap, giving you a tired smile. You sat down carefully, not wanting to aggravated his most likely exhausted muscles.

“Sorry.” He murmured. “I’m covered in soot but I need a minute before I get ready for bed.”

“Bed?” You laughed, pointing out the window to the sun still an hour or two away from setting. “It’s still hours from time to sleep.”

Dammon poked at your sides gently, giving you a out, “With as many orders as we had, I deserve to sleep for a week.”

You shrugged, snuggling closer into his chest. “I suppose you’re right. You should’ve seen the way my last customer acted. You would’ve thought they had never been out in public. I can’t believe the nerve of some people.”

Dammon’s arms wrapped comfortably around you, leaning back to get comfortable, “I’d quite enjoy to hear about it, my love.” He sighed.

You spent the next hour chatting his ear off. You wen’t back and forth between complaining about the day, explaining customer gossip, expressing your enjoyment for the kind people that visited the shop. It took you more time than you cared to admit to hear Dammon’s soft snores. You focused back on his face, realizing he had probably been asleep for most of the time you had been talking. You chuckled and kissed his nose, resting your head against the top of a chair.

If you were going to nap, you couldn’t think of a better place to be than Dammon’s arms.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When you eyes fluttered open, the sun had fallen below the skyline. Deep purples and reds painted the walls through the window, reflecting beautifully across all of Dammon’s projects.

Your attention flitted to the noise that had woken you up, the door swinging open softly. Rolan and Zevlor’s heads popped in, both smiling a s they met your gaze. You smiled back softly, bringing your finger to your lips before pointing back at the sleeping Tiefling holding you. The other two walked further into the room, Rolan putting his hand’s on his hips disapprovingly.

“Did Dammon forget he was supposed to come to dinner with all of us?” Rolan whisper yelled.

You shook your head softly, “He hasn’t been able to sleep we’ve been so busy. I’ll get up and we can grab something for him to eat in the morning.”

Zevlor nodded, walking forward, holding out his hand. “Here, darling, I’ll help you up.”

You took his hand and tried to stand, realizing very quickly that there was something wrong. You looked down to see Dammon’s arms still wrapped tightly around you. You tried to stand again, stifling a giggle when you realized how stiff his embrace was.

You were hopelessly stuck.

You looked back to Zevlor and Rolan pleadingly, seeing Rolan stifle back his own laugh. “I suppose working as a blacksmith all this time has made him a little too strong.”

You gave Rolan a halfhearted glare, hissing under your breath. “Don’t tease me, help me get out without waking him.” You demanded

Zevlor brought his hand to his mouth, contemplating the problem before him. “What do you think, Rolan?”

Rolan shrugged, giving you a smirk. “I think we should leave them.”

Your jaw dropped, realizing he was planning to leave you stuck in Dammon’s arms until he woke up. You suppose there were more uncomfortable places to be stuck.

“You’re not leaving me here.” You gaped.

Zevlor gave you a pity filled smile, “We can bring you back something to eat.”

You turned your glare to Zevlor, “You too?” You asked incredulously, your voice rising a note.

You felt Dammon stir under you, causing you to clamp your mouth shut and freeze. You turned to see if the Tiefling awoke and you were greeted with his eyes fluttering open. He brought up a hand to rub his eyes sleepily, releasing you from his death grip.

Rolan rolled his eyes, Zevlor smiled, and you kissed Dammon’s cheek sweetly as he tried to wake completely.

“What’s wrong? Is it time for breakfast?”

#dammon #zevlor #Rolan #dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #baldurs gate #tiefling bachelors #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 blurb

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heizlut · 7 months

Text

From Hero to Whore

Part 1

cw: noncon. one mention of blood. public fucking

tags: genshin nobushi. afab reader. dom mob characters. no use of y/n. only pronoun used is “they”. if y’all think of more lemme know

for reference (using the image): the hitsukeban is the left, kikouban in the middle (yeah yeah i know that’s actually a hitsukeban but there’s no fanart for kikouban so 🤷🏻‍♀️), and jintouban to the right

nsfw under the cut

check out my masterlist here!

you had been sent on a commission to disband a nobushi camp nearby that has been terrorising others in the area. you approach them cautiously, ready for a fight. a hitsukeban nobushi takes notice first and stands up from his spot with a smirk on his face, “it’s my lucky day.” the two other nobushi, a kikouban and jintouban, finally take notice of you, cruel smirks cross their faces as well.

you get yourself in position to fight, only to notice as they get closer just how much taller and larger they really are compared to you. you hesitate, taking a step back. the kikouban notices and clicks his tongue, “Going somewhere?” The three nobushi begin to circle around you, no one making a move yet. You couldn’t help but catch the predatory gaze in their eyes as they looked you up and down. So caught up in wondering what they were thinking, you failed to catch the hitsukeban before he grabbed you, pulling you backwards against his large body with his katana pressed to your throat.

The jintouban crouches down so he’s at your level, “Here’s how this is going to work, little one. If you want to live, you’ll do as we say. If you fail to follow our rules.. well.. you die.” He shrugs nonchalantly at the last part and the other nobushi let out rumbling laughs. You struggle against the hitsukeban’s grasp only for him to further press his katana harder, drawing a little bit of blood, “Now now, you better watch yourself, little one. Wouldn’t want our prize to get killed before we’ve even gotten to the good part.” He slashes your shirt open in one swift movement of his katana, making you gasp and quickly move your arms to cover your now exposed chest. before you can cover up, the jintouban grabs your arms and pulls them down to your sides, “Ah ah, not so fast” He and the kikouban eye your exposed chest hungrily, licking their lips.

You gulp and turn your head away from their gazes only for the hitsukeban to reach down and grasp your chin, harshly turning your face back to the two other nobushi in front of you, “Eyes on them, sweet thing.” The jintouban, still crouched in front of you, reaches out and pinches your hardened nipple between his fingers making you let out a small whimper. He lets out a chuckle as he pinches and twists it, “Such a cute little noise. Wonder if we can get more out of you.”

He leans forward, latching his mouth to your other nipple and sucks it harshly, occasionally biting down on it just enough to cause a bit of pain. You let out a sound that is a cross between a moan and loud sob. This makes the jintouban let out a satisfied moan as his tongue circles your sore nipple, still pinching and twisting the other. The hitsukeban behind you grasps your throat in a harsh grip, you can feel his cock hardening against your back.

You look up to the kikouban, only to see that he’s palming his erection through his pants as he watches the others with you. The look in his eyes a cross between predatory and jealousy. He catches you looking at him and he smirks, “See something you want?” He saunters over to you, the hitsukeban grasping your throat forces you to look up at the approaching kikouban, “Open your mouth, whore.” He demands as he lightly smacks your cheek to get you to open up for his friend.

You obediently open your mouth for the kikouban who tugs his pants down just enough to let his large, girthy cock out of its confines. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and the kikouban taps his leaky cock on your tongue then pushes in harshly, causing you to sputter and choke. “That’s it, whore. Take it. Take this fucking cock”, he begins fucking your mouth and his head tilts back in ecstasy, letting out a low groan.

The jintouban finally releases your sore nipples and reaches down under your skirt and rips off your panties in one go, beginning to rub your clit. He chuckles darkly when he feels just how soaked you are, “Such a fucking slut. You’re into this, aren’t you.. The little hero getting all wet and needy for the enemies, hah! What a good whore for us…” You moan loudly around the kikouban’s cock, the vibrations from your moan draw a loud groan from the kikouban causing his cock to twitch in your mouth and release his hot, thick cum down your throat. You sputter as you try to swallow it all. “Thats it…swallow it all, slut”, the hitsukeban commands.

There’s so much cum that it drips down your chin as the kikouban pulls out of your mouth. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, “What a fucking waste. Couldn’t even manage to swallow it all. How worthless.” He crouches down next to the jintouban and uses his fingers to gather up the cum dripping down your face and shoves his fingers in your mouth, “We’re gonna have to punish you for that, you know that right?” You whimper as you suck the cum off his fingers. The hitsukeban lets go of your throat and grasps your hair harshly, pulling you to the ground so you’re laying on your back.

He gets on top of you, his arms and large body caging you in. He grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head, “Let’s teach you some manners, now shall we?” You do your best to keep still under him, but can’t help the way that your cunt clenches around nothing. He moves off of you, leaving you lying there a little confused and very exposed, “Hands and knees now, whore.”

You scramble into the position he wants you in and wait in anticipation. The three nobushi take a moment to observe your exposed body, relishing in how obedient you are for them despite them being your enemy and the fact that you are quite literally out in the open for anyone passing by to see.

The hitsukeban kneels down behind you. his fingers trail up your slit, your arousal already coating his fingers, “So fucking wet already, i don’t even think i need to prep you” He laughs darkly. He pulls his long, thick cock from his pants and rubs his length on your slit, allowing your slick to cover his length before pushing in harshly. You cry out from the sudden intrusion. The hitsukeban lets out a low groan from his throat, “So fucking tight for me… fuck” He lets out a broken chuckle at your whimpering, “Don’t worry, little one, this is only just the beginning.” Before you can react to his words, he begins slamming into your tight wet hole harshly, drawing loud, lewd moans from you. Tears begin slipping down your cheeks and the jintouban kneels down in front of you. He grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him and he smirks, “How cute..” He leans forward, licking the tears off your cheeks causing you to grimace. He chuckles darkly and begins pulling his thick cock from his pants, “You haven’t given me much attention yet, sweetheart. Be good and open up for me, yeah?” His tone seemed a little gentler than the other two, making you somewhat trust him more than the others

You oblige and hesitantly open your mouth for him. “Such a good girl for me”, he coos and slowly pushes his cock into your mouth, letting you adjust to the thickness, “Relax for me, sweetheart.” You try your best to relax your jaw and throat despite his friend fucking into you harshly from behind so you can take more of his length. The jintouban lets out a soft moan as he finally slips a little deeper into your throat, “Fuck yeah, just like that…” He places one large hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair gently as he guides your head to move along his length. Suddenly, the hitsukeban pulls out of your cunt from behind you and lifts you up, placing you on top of him, impaling you into his awaiting cock. The action causes you to sputter on the jintouban’s length and let out a muffled lewd moan. The kikouban plants himself behind you and spread your ass, spitting on your tight hole, “Saved the best for last…” He wastes no time in pressing his leaky tip against your tight rim causing tears to fall down your cheeks again. The jintouban notices your tears again and reaches down to wipe them away with his thumb and softly says, “Be a good girl and take it. I know you can do it.” You let out a whimper around his cock which turns into a muffled cry as the kikouban bottoms out in your tight ass.

If you had known that taking this commission would’ve led to you getting fucked by the men you were supposed to defeat all at the same time, you wouldn’t have accepted the commission. Or maybe.. you would’ve. You couldn’t help but think about the way they made you feel. The degradation, the way they used you as they pleased did something to you… What was happening to you? The pain had morphed into pleasure you and find yourself squirting all over the hitsukeban’s cock as he fucking into you harshly. This earned you a low growl from his throat and he felt himself reach his climax, fucking his hot cum into your tight cunt. The feeling of you clenching also affected the kikouban fucking your ass. He threw his head back, letting out a grunt as his cock twitched in your ass as he released his second load that day. The jintouban finally reaches his peak and send loads of thick cum down your throat, “Such a good fucking girl for us..” They all pull out, cum leaking from your holes and you collapse on top of the hitsukeban, panting heavily and rest your head on his broad chest. He pats your head, “You’re ours now.”

a/n: i… whew… just writing this did something to me 😮‍💨

my grammar is all over the place during this so i’m sorry lol

Taglist: @arnaaluklove

#nobushi smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #nobushi x reader #nobushi x reader smut #nobushi x gender neutral reader

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carolmunson · 1 year

Text

wish i had a river (part two)

here it is, the part two i said i wouldn't write. if you missed it, here is the first part - wish i had a river this is very much an eddie munson fanfiction, it's mostly from his perspective and follows his story through his eyes and actions. 'you' are mentioned and seen in this fic, but for the most part, it's all eddie all the time. cw: minors dni, adult themes, some smut references. angst. hurt/comfort. lots of mentions of poverty/hunger, sleep deprivation, all around eddie having a bad time. cigarettes/mild drinking but nothing inherently like -- bad? idk. unpopular ship mentioned. i did NOT proof read this.

The alley behind Macy's was a safe haven. Cold, a blue black, poorly paved, with nothing but the dumpters of other stores and the rats to keep him company. Eddie nursed a cigarette on his third smoke break of the night, two bad customers away from a total nervous breakdown. His anxiety built higher every day, every rush, every icy road report -- more people yelling, more people stressed out, more car accidents he'd have to clean up. Wayne's been in an out of the doctor's office more often and it's looking like he might have to retire early. The cigarette loses it's flame and he curses under his breath when he goes to light it again, the nicotine soothing his lips and tongue with a slow steady burn.

You never got to decorate cookies together on his impromptu 'sick day', you hadn't returned any of his calls. Not that he thought he was off the hook or anything, but he did basically write you a fifty two page love letter. If he had the time he'd come by your apartment to apologize in person but at this point exhaustion had started to over stay it's welcome. He could barely make it to the pharmacy on his nights off to get Wayne's medication. The guys at the auto shop could tell something was starting to go very left, 'cause why was the youngest guy there the one who couldn't keep up anymore?

And Eddie really couldn't keep up anymore.

At least his commission in the shoe section was doubling daily.

The cold bites his cheeks while he finishes his cigarette, tossing the butt on the dirty, uneven pavement and crushing out the flame with his work shoes. He rubs his eyes, heavy and swollen with lack of sleep, with scrubbed fingernail hands and sighs. Just another hour and he can go home, just another hour and it's not a closing shift, he can go home at seven like normal people with regular jobs.

He drops his coat off in the cubby area upstairs, stopping in the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He inspects himelf, eyes half closing in disappointement while he does -- he looks like a shell of himself. He hadn't picked up his guitar in months, didn't turn the radio on anymore -- opting for silence since it was so rare for him to hear between Macy's, the shop, and Wayne's breathing machine at night.

He takes his hair down, shaking out the curls that had at least dried into waving perfection last night, and gives it a shake before putting it back up in a neat ponytail. His bangs sit on his forehead, a few strands framing his now gaunt face. He practices an awake smile in the mirror before he completely deflates -- one bad interaction, one rude look, one snap from a boss, and he'd lose it. The rawness sat in a lump in his throat, a grenade of tears ready to blow if the pin is even so much as nudged.

The door to the back rooms squeaks open on its hinges, revealing the never ending click of boots, heels, sneakers, and men's shoes on the sining tile of Macy's walkway floors. In the beginning, the scent of the perfume section across the way and the bright lights of jewelry used to be an assault on his senses -- but as Wayne says 'You can get used to anything.'

"You good, Ed?" he hears, and turns his head -- it's Angie. Angie is his favorite coworker because she makes the best and meanest jokes about people. If it wasn't for some nights closing with Angie he would've left this job a long time ago. He'd been keeled over in laughs with a duster in his hand so many times that it almost seemed wrong to abandon her there.

"Yeah," he furrows his brow at her, "Should I not be?"

"Some pretty boy's been looking for you," she says, nodding over to the boots section, "You got another business I don't know about?"

A grin stretches across her frosted red lipstick'd lips, crinkling her overlined and spider lashed eyes. She's what Eddie and the guys at Forest Hills would have called 'trailer park pretty' if she was thirty years younger.

"They would be so lucky, wouldn't they?" Ed smirks back, eyes following her nod and landing on a head of beautifully coiffed chestnut hair, "Harrington?"

Steve's eyes perk up like a golden retreiver, a winning smile spreading across his face with a flash of white teeth in it's wake, "Hey, Ed!"

Angie gasps when she realizes who it is, "Oh shit! Is this the guy that --"

"Shh, shut up Ange," Ed huffs, waving her off while Steve comes up to approach him.

"Hey dude, I was hoping you were here. I uh, got a pretty big collection to get tonight so I figured -- you know, I'd come say hi and ask for your help." It's frustrating how pleasant Steve is. How warm his demeanor radiates to others, his candor, the way that he stands. It's annoying that a denim button under a cozy green sweater looks good on him. It makes Eddie sick that he can pull off wire-rim glasses and still look his age, that he smells like spice but not in a cheap way. A twinge of fear shook in his chest when a seed of assumption planted itself in his head -- was this why you weren't answering his calls? Was Steve Harrington smothering you with Christmas spirit every night?

"Yeah, man, sure," Eddie responds like the world isn't sitting directly on his shoulders, which -- he observed -- were not nearly as broad as Steve's, "How can I help you?"

"I need like, four pairs of Moon Boots," he shrugs, "Guess they're in style again? My sister's and nieces want matching pairs so like -- two in a size 8 and then, if you have it, two in a size 4 kids?"

"What color? We have white, purple, black, some metallics," Eddie lists on his fingers, "Well, maybe not black -- those probably sold out already."

"You got silver? Pink, maybe?" Steve shrugs, "I'm just trying to get these wrapped by tomorrow."

Christmas Eve. Ed had almost forgotten.

"Let me see what we have and I'll bring it out," he offers. He wants to ask about you but it seems too obvious. You must have talked about the fight or about him in general, how else would Steve know he worked here? How else would he know to come looking for him.

Moments later, Ed comes out with four boxes, "I have two in silver and two in pink -- so it looks like your nieces will be matching and your sisters will be matching. Does that work?"

"Oh shit, that's perfect," Steve smiles the same winning smile. Eddie wonders for a moment what it feels like to smile genuinely, it's felt like years since he had. He guesses that when you're Steve Harrington, you must get to smile pretty often. Rich, girls love him, former captain of the basketball team, has a masters degree, painstakingly handsome -- no wonder you called him after your fight. Damn, he would too.

"Is that all?" Ed asks, reaching up to run a hand over the five o'clock shadow speckling his chin.

"No, actually, sorry. I need some like, work boots, if you sell those here -- is that okay?" Steve asks.

"Work boots like, how? Like construction?" he asks, "You're a teacher, Harrington."

"Yeah but my uh, my roommate -- he's not in construction but he's on a whole bunch of terrain for work -- desperately needs good shoes for that," he explains.

"What's he do?" Ed asks, guiding him over to the display of Timberlands and Doc Martens.

"He's a photojournalist -- he's all over the place," Steve answers, "He's worn his sneakers down to the sole and like, swears their okay --"

"Jonothan Byer's is your roommate?" Eddie asks, making the connection. He'd only known him from their photography class they shared in Eddie's second senior year, but he knew enough to know he went into journalism shortly after college.

"Yeah," Steve nods, running a hand through his hair.

"Hm," Eddie looks over the shoes and looks up at him, "If I can be honest -- he's gotta be quick on his feet, right? These are gonna be too heavy for him to be walking around in. You might just want to get him some higher quality running sneakers. There's a Foot Locker downstairs if you wanna check that out? A lot of our sneakers are sold out until next week."

"Hmm, shit," Steve clicks his tongue, "Well um -- could I maybe try a pair?"

"Of Docs?" Eddie asks with a laugh.

"Yeah, of Docs -- I can be hip and cool, too, Munson," Steve's faux defense is charming. Eddie wonders what else you find charming about him.

Part of it feels degrading, kneeling down in front of Steve, lacing and relacing each new and different pair of boots he tries on -- but at this point he's buying seven pairs of shoes and the commission alone will cover at least a month of groceries so he's not complaining.

"So you don't hate me, huh?" Eddie asks, slipping a lighter weight Timberland over one of Steve's argyle socks.

"Why would I hate you?" Steve cocks his head, amber eyes catching in the light.

"Oh, did she not talk about it?" Eddie flushes. Why would you talk about him? Your loser mechanic (maybe ex) boyfriend who works at the mall, and at the auto shop, and sometimes sells drugs.

"Your fight from last week?" Steve raises his brows, "Yeah, she talked to me about it. But I woudn't hate you for that."

Ed tightens the laces up his foot to his ankle with care, "Why not?"

"I mean, you're doing a lot right now," Steve shrugs, "I think it can be hard when you're teaching little ones, especially this time of year, to not get caught up in the magic -- you sort of popped her bubble. But y'know, it was sort of a reminder to her that not everyone has it so good."

"She didn't deserve me yelling at her like that, though," Eddie shakes his head, he can feel the threat of the grenade pin tugging on his heart strings. One false move. One shake. One nudge, and he'll blow.

"You're doing the best you can," Steve offers kindly. Eddie swallows hard, offering him a tight smile.

"Thanks. I'm trying, I'm--" he shakes out the tingle of a cry before tying up the laces, "I'm trying really hard."

By the time Steve checks out it's about 7:15 and Eddie wants nothing more than to go to bed. His back hurts, he's gotta make sure Wayne took his medication, he's gotta eat sleep for dinner for the third night in a row.

"Thanks so much," Steve beams, "This is great, thanks for your help."

"Yeah, no problem dude," Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face again, "Have a good holiday."

"You done for the night?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, just gotta y'know -- grab my shit and go," he shrugs.

"You wanna grab some dinner with me in the food court or something?" Steve asks, balancing the many shopping bags he'd collected this evening in his hands.

"I don't know, dude. I don't wanna keep you or anything," Eddie says. His stomach clenches at the word dinner, his body reacting like a dog who just heard the sentence 'you wanna go outside?'

"You're not keeping me," Steve assures, "C'mon, it's on me."

Before he knows it, Eddie's been corralled into a mall food court, sitting slumped over on the sticky table. He tunes out the shreiks of children, the tinny Christmas music playing in the background of the cocophany of noise that is the mall on December 23rd. His forehead sticks to the leather jacket over his forearm, only lifting it up when he hears the slap of a plastic tray being put down in front of him. He surveys the Burger King in front of him and huffs a laugh, it'd been a long time since he'd ventured into the food court. He almost forgot what fast food looked like after the past few months of thin ham sandwhiches or cold cans Spaghettio's.

"So why didn't you try to swoop in?" Ed asked, toying with a french fry before biting off the end, "When you went to her house the other night?"

He savors the oil and salt on his tongue, warm and crispy on the fry disolving in his mouth while he waits for a response.

"Swoop in?" Steve asks, shaking his head, "No, I wouldn't. We just -- we work together. She's my work friend."

"So you never thought about what the kids say?" Eddie challenges, still trying to keep it light hearted, "How the first grade teachers should get married?"

"Her classroom is across from mine and we make lesson plans together," he assures, "What the kids say is what the kids say. They're six, what do they know?"

"Whatever you say, Harrington," Eddie shrugs.

"Munson, seriously -- she's my friend. She's not my type," he offers. The way he says it stings Eddie, what's not his type about you? You're perfect. You're the best person he knows.

"The card thing though? That was cute. I'm gonna put that in my arsenal if I ever fuck up," Steve laughs. Eddie chest rattles when he realizes that Steve was still there for that. He never even knew your reaction.

Eddie clears his throat, "Did um -- did she like it?"

Steve nods with a lazy smile, "Yeah, she liked it."

"Did she say anything?" he asks hopefully.

"She cried," Steve answered, Eddie leans his head on his hands, "I know that might not be what you wanted to hear."

"I didn't wanna make her cry more," he explains, "I wanted to make her happy."

"They were happy tears," Steve encourages with a nod, "She knows you love her. She loves you, too."

"Then why isn't she answering my calls?" he asks, another fry passing his lips.

"I think she's hurt, a little embarrassed. You know how girls are, they never come right out and say it," he shrugs, taking a bite of his cheeseburger. Ketchup drips out onto the paper mat on the plastic tray with a wet plop, Eddie sighs.

"Did you end up getting anything for her for Christmas?"

"No I -- I can't afford it this year," Eddie rubs his eyes again, more swollen and aching than before. Heat beams through his cheeks in embarrassment, tinging pink and then red.

"Well I had an idea," he offers, "If you're up for it."

"Yeah, go for it Harrington. Shoot," he says, the enthusiasm was greatly lacking.

"Well her uh, her class room needs a lot of repairs and the custodial team isn't really equipped for that. The school'll either bare bones it for her or make her pay for it out of pocket if she asks," he starts, "And she told me you're really handy, y'know, working at the garage and all. So maybe you could take care of her class room this week while we're out for break. I can let you in and everything."

He mulls it over in his head, "That's a really good idea, actually. I could um, I could ask the guys at the shop if I could borrow some tools."

"And there's a bunch of wood palettes in the backrooms at Medvald's. Jon said he's happy to get them out of there for you," Steve says with a smile.

"Oh, so you already talked about this?" Eddie smirks.

"Well, yeah, kind of," he blushes, "I was asking around just to see if it was a plausible kind of thing."

"Definitely a plausible thing," he nods, taking a bite of his own cheese burger. He holds back the moan in his chest from eating something warm and mildly filling after such a long time, "Do you think she'd like it?"

"Oh, Munson," Steve shoots him the 'okay' sign, "She'd lose her mind. All she does is complain about how nothing ever works and everything's falling apart. Doesn't even have new chalk."

"Chalk I can definitely handle," he laughs, "I think I can afford chalk."

He feels a moment of calm wash over him when the van rumbles to life in the parking garage. Finally heading home and going to sleep with a full belly, finally with a plan to make you happy, finally feeling like after the new year things can go back to normal. He flicks on the radio and doesn't even change the station when Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas' crackles through the speakers. He heard it 700 times today, happy to hear it for the 701st.

It was your new favorite song, after all.

Eddie woke up feeling slightly refreshed on Christmas Eve, the dull ache in his back mildly relieved. He fished into his pajama pants for his lighter, flicking it a few times before getting the fuse lit for his morning cigarette. He stood at the open door, bathrobe tied tight around him, and listened to the hum of Wayne's machine from the other end of trailer. The mug of black coffee in his hands had the bitterness cut by the soft sweetness of cinnamon -- that's what you always did this time of year.

'I like making it a little festive for you, honey,' you'd giggle, 'Don't be such a Grinch.'

He wished he appreciated it more, all the little things you did to try to make him happy. The faces in fruit on his pancakes some mornings, making his old favorites for dinner at your place, 'build your own sundae' nights. Scratching his head, scalp massages, hand massages. You'd call them man-icures so he didn't feel weird about you doing his nails and softening his callouses. He didn't care that it was just a manicure with a stupid name, all he cared about was your cute face when you concentrated on his cuticles. He missed your laugh, the way you tap your pen out to your favorite songs when you're grading papers or writing lesson plans, your elaborate schemes to make learning subtraction more fun. The way you're kind to everyone, all the time, constantly. When he first started taking you out he'd get embarrassed by how forward you were with people, how you'd make small talk with cashiers, or grab someone's hand to tell them their nails looked beautiful.

Maybe in a lot of ways, he wished he was more like you to start.

He took a shower and slipped on his coveralls, opting to be one of two guys in the shop today. Him and George. It was George's garage, and for the past six years, Eddie had always volunteered to be the emergency mechanic on deck on Christmas Eve. He got paid time and a half and never had to wait for the check, he'd always get paid at the end of the day.

He laces his boots before trudging down the hall to wake Wayne, taking off his machine and flipping the switch.

"I'm headed out," he whispers, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Wayne groans when he sits up on the rickety mattress, "I have a new perscription, not sure if the pharmacy'll be open but would you be able to pick it up on the way back. They called last night but I couldn't make it to the phone, it's ready I think."

"Yeah, I'll grab it on my lunch break Wayne," he softens the more he looks at him, "Have some coffee already to go for you on the table, there's a couple eggs left for you too."

"Thank ya, son," his voice is grizzly, but it still feels like home.

Eddie shivers his way into the shop, George in the office organizing some files. The day was always slow, but there were some cars still in need of fixing so he got right to work.

"Hey George," he calls, knocking on the door.

"Hey kid," he calls back, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, round six," he laughs back. He goes back to the break room and drops off his coat and his back pack. Normally he'd have you to look forward to later with a plate of cookies from your family's Christmas Eve party and some left overs expertly packed. You'd drive an hour and a half to bring it down to him and then an hour and a half back to spend Christmas with your family. But not before he gave you a present, or multiple presents, in the break room when George went out to get a six pack.

"Ed," he calls again, "C'mere when you're done dropping your shit."

Eddie heads over to the office, leaning on the door frame, "'Sup bossman?"

"Someone left a message for ya on the answering machine, think it's the pharmacy," he said, "Ya might wanna give 'em a call, s'probably for your uncle."

"Oh, yeah, I think his prescription's ready," he nodded, "Can I use your phone?"

"Yeah, by all means," he said, pushing it toward him, "Want me to give you a minute?"

Ed shakes his head no, "It's fine, just a quick call." He's got the number memorized by heart at this point, clicking the numbers on the grease stained white plastic buttons while barely looking at the machine.

"Hawkins Pharmacy, this is Debbie," Eddie smiles because he knows Debbie. He likes Debbie a lot.

"Hi Deb, it's Eddie, Eddie Munson," he says, "Calling for my uncle, looks like you called my work. I was gonna come by and pick up his meds on my break, will you guys be open?"

"Oh um, about his prescription Ed..." she starts, and he can hear the hesitation in her voice. The clip in the grenade buried in his chest jiggles slightly, he takes in a breath through his nose.

"What's up?" he asks, his voice his short and curt.

"Well, he changed his insurance recently, as you know and -- well there's a lapse in his coverage right now. His new plan doesn't activate until the first," she expains.

"Okay, and what does that mean?" he says, his palms sweat onto the cool plastic of the phone, his ear sticks to the receiver.

"Basically," she says, and then sighs, "His current insurance can't cover it and neither can is upcoming insurance, so the prescription has to be paid out of pocket."

"Um -- uh, fuck -- okay," he says, a chill courses through him, tightening his veins. The pin jiggles again, "H-how much?"

"For the month?" she asks, "For this prescription it's, hold on, let me check...it's looking like it'll come out to around..." she takes a breath of defeat.

"Around three hundred dollars, Ed," she says softly.

"Three hundred..." he repeats back quietly, "Is there like, is there a cheaper version cause he like..."

His voice cracks, the pin rattles dangerously while his eyes start to sting with oncoming tears, "He really needs these pills, Debbie."

"This is the cheapest option," she says apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

"I'll um, I'll figure it out," he shakes his head, "I'll come by and I'll figure it out. Thanks uh, thanks for letting me know Deb."

He doesn't wait to hear her response before he hangs up the phone, quickly leaving the office to go back to the break room. He sniffles in big shuddering breaths, sweat dripping down his back despite the lack of heat in the garage.

"Kid," George says softly, following behind him, "Hey, Munson. What's goin' on?"

He feels George's big hand on his shoulder, the soft squeeze on the muscle under his skin.

"I can't afford my uncle's medication," he says, the pin jiggles, "I mean I can, but like, if I get his medication I'll be late in paying the gas bill, but if they turn the gas off there goes our heat. Or I can delay the electric bill but if they turn the lights out he can't use his machine at night. So maybe I could like, go out tonight after this and shovel some driveways in the rich neighborhoods or -- I could -- I could --"

The pin falls.

He breaks.

He breaks hard.

Eddie's cries turn to wails, his body shaking with hunger and exhaustion and the unbearable heaviness of having to be himself. The tears pour in droves down his face while he tries to catch up with them, trying to find the words to explain to George that he's okay, he'll figure it out.

"Hey, buddy, it's okay, it's okay," George soothes, his aged face crumpling while he watches Eddie break down in front of him. He pulls him in tight, a hand plopping ontop on his mess of curls.

"Why don't you tell me what's been goin' on? You haven't been yourself for months," he says softly, "Talk to me."

George smells like Old Spice and Newports, it's a scent that's always made him feel safe. Like having a second dad -- well, a third dad, if you count his real dad. He never counts his real dad, though.

Eddie sits down at the table while George takes a couple of beers out of the fridge and places them down in front of them. He cracks them open and settles down, two sets of brown eyes meeting each other.

He begins.

"Well if Wayne was sick why didn't you tell me?" George exclaims, "I've known Wayne longer than you've lived in Hawkins, boy. I would've helped you figure somethin' out. Taking shifts at Macy's? At Christmas time? No wonder you're so exhausted."

"I mean, I'm young. I can do it," Eddie shrugs.

"Those bags under your eyes say you can't," he says matter of factly, "And y'know you shouldn't have to. You're -- damn you're a kid."

"I'm like, inching towards thirty George," he laughs.

"And what about your little girlfriend? She not helping?"

"That's..." he sighs, "That's a whole other mess."

Eddie rehashes the story he told Wayne last week and then Steve's visit from yesterday, "So today I was gonna ask if I could borrow some tools and go in tomorrow or something to fix everything up. But now I gotta figure out how I'm gonna make an extra three hundred bucks for these meds."

"How about this," George starts, "You've been workin' for me a long time. You come early and you stay late. You cover for everyone. You know -- damn -- you know more about cars than I do and I've been runnin' this place for thirty years. How about you take this week off to work on your girl's classroom and I'll see you after the New Year."

"I can't. I need to work, George, I need the mo--"

"How about," he interjects, loud and stern, "You take the week off to work on your girl's classroom and get some rest, and I will pay you for the week. It's not like you're just sittin' on your ass."

"I can do that, that's not f--"

"If you say no again, I'm just gonna fire you. Is that what you want?" George challenges.

"No sir," Eddie quickly shakes his head and shuts his mouth.

"And," the older man continues, "I will cover the cost of Wayne's pills. I'll go pick them up at lunch for 'im and drop 'em off. 'Bout time I caught up with that geezer anyway."

The tears build back up in Eddie's eyes, his mouth lets out a sputtered version of a 'Thank you'.

"You gotta stop pretending like you have to do everything yourself," George's voice holds a fatherly fondness when he gets up and tosses their empty beers in the trash.

"C'mere, kid," he chuckles while Eddie tearily gets up out of the chair and back into the dad like embrace of his boss.

"You got ten minutes, but then we got some cars to fix."

Eddie didn't tell Wayne about the insurance lapse or the pills, even though he was surprised to see George at the trailer park that afternoon. Eddie went home with his tool belt from work, his time and a half, and a little extra that his boss insisted he take with him. Wished him luck on his repairs and that he'd see him on the 2nd.

He was warned that if he didn't rest, Wayne would tell him, and it would mean hell for him at the shop.

Eddie'd already been through hell, so he didn't really want to have to do it again.

Christmas morning came and Eddie woke Wayne up to a cup of coffee and some breakfast.

"Thanks, son," he said smoothly, pushing in his chair at the table in the kitchenette, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he wished back, tapping some cinnamon into each of their cups of coffee.

"What's that for?" he asks before a harrowing cough bubbles out of his chest. He takes a sip of coffee to ease the ache of the rattle in his throat.

"It's just festive, Wayne," he teases, "Don't be a Scrooge."

"Doing anything today?" Wayne asks, eyes casting up to look at the old pictures of a younger Eddie sat on Santa's lap. No longer a holiday where they stayed home and snuggled, where he played with his toys, where there was magic.

"Gonna go fix up my girl's classroom as a gift," he says, picking at his nails, "Thought it'd be a nice gesture."

"She hasn't called ya back, hm?"

Eddie shakes his head, already dressed in the Black Sabbath shirt you got him that he hadn't gotten a chance to properly thank you for. The chain you got repaired hung aroung his neck delicately, the pick hitting his chest in a gentle reminder that you're still here with him. You had to be. He'd know if you just decided to be done with him.

By the time the late afternoon rolled around he hopped in his van after Wayne fell asleep in the recliner. The perk of the holidays was that he could drive around in the rich neighborhoods and no one was out to give him and his car dirty looks. No one was around to be confused that Steve Harrington was hopping into his passengers seat to head to Melvald's. No one was around to be confused as to while they were loading wood from broken down pallets into the ample trunk space.

"Good holiday?" Eddie asks.

"Same holiday it always is," he shrugs, "My parents weren't around so I stayed home. Jonothan went to California with Joyce to go visit Will so he wouldn't have to pay to fly home."

"That's lonely," Eddie mutters, "Sorry dude."

"Don't be sorry, I'm used to it," he looks out the window. Steve looks well dressed for repairs -- a pair of worn in jeans, white on white Air Forces, an Izod half zip sweat shirt -- he might as well look like a father of three, "Have you heard from her at all?"

"No -- I left her a message on her answering machine, but I think she's already up with her family. I don't know what she told them so -- I don't want to bother her parents if they're upset with me," he explains.

"They'd never be upset with you," Steve shakes his head, "They're good people."

"I'm sure they wish on a star every night that she was with you, Harrington," he jokes.

"You'd think, right?" Steve laughs, "No, she told me how much they like you. They think you're so good to her -- you are so good to her."

Steve speaks about you with a fondness that makes Eddie wonder. He softens, looking over at him while he turns down the road to the elementary school, "Do um...do you wish it was you?"

"I already told you, man. I love her to death, but she's not my type," he laughs again, but there's a pain there.

"You keep saying that but like -- are you sure? 'Cause you can tell me it's not weird," he assures.

"She hasn't told you?" Steve asks, brows furrowing.

"Told me what? Did you guys used to fuck, or something?" Eddie asks, his heart hammering, "Did you fuck the other ni--"

"No, no, Ed I'm --" he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm gay," he says quietly, "Like, Jonathan isn't my roommate he's -- he's my partner. I'm gay."

There's a silence there for a moment and Eddie shifts in his seat a red light. Oh, I'm such a fucking idiot. Of course that's why they aren't together. I thought maybe he had a weird dick or something.

"That's y'know," Ed shrugs, "That's cool with me, man. Like, silence equals death and all that."

"Oh, shut up man," Steve laughs and shakes his head, putting his hand up to stop him from talking, "Don't like, do that all shit. I'm just surprised she hadn't said anything."

"If you told her not to, she wont," Eddie's voice drops to something sweet, "She's a good girl like that. Great secret keeper. Great -- Oh, shit..."

When the boys pull into the lot, Eddie's surprised to see a couple more trucks sitting by with their lights on, doors opening at the sight of them. A gruff voice calls out from the dark, a light snow obscuring him and the name on his coverall.

"How long were you gonna keep us waiting here, kid? It's a holiday."

George's gruff voice cuts the silence, a couple of the guys from the shop chuckle in the background. Eddie smiles, a genuine, warm smile -- the kind he envied from a couple nights ago that he saw from Steve. These were people who cared about him, who wanted to help. This was, he guessed, was what Christmas was really about. This was what you were trying to tell him the whole time. His heart breaks all over again, and he swears he can feel the pulse of your heart beat in the guitar pick hanging at his chest.

By the 27th, most of the repairs had been done. The help from the guys was beyond what he could've imagined. They were able to replace part of the roof that had water damage, fix the windows, repair a cracked pane, build a new bookcase, fix the wobble in all of the desks, and yours. Now, he was just adding a new coat of paint after spending the morning chipping off all the shards of it that were falling off. In his backpack was an overflow of new chalk, pens and pencils, markers, crayons, construction paper, pipe cleaners, and glue. The guys went through their kids bookcases at home and donated a slew of new books for the room -- some duplicates, too.

He felt good. He'd gotten two nights of adequate sleep, heeding George's warning that he has to rest. He was able to buy a good crop of groceries and most of the guys from work came by to drop off so many Christmas cookies that Wayne was nervous he'd start losing his teeth too. Now, all he had to wait for was you. For you to come in on Friday and see his surprise when you dropped in for your professional development day with Steve. He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave flowers or gingerbread men with the card but he figured he'd cross that bridge when he --

"Eddie?"

He jumped, nearly falling off the ladder he was on to reattach over head light that had rusted on the ceiling, "Jesus Christ!"

He clutched his chest, letting his heart rate settle down when at the bottom of the ladder, there you stood. His face blushed pink, pulse ping ponging through his wrists at the sight of you.

"Hi, sweetheart," he smiles, "This um...this was supposed to be a surprise."

"Who told you?" you asked, looking around, "About all my stuff?"

Eddie climbed down the ladder carefully, "Steve came to the store, told me that you needed some help. I figured y'know, if I couldn't get you a present I could just -- I could make you one."

"It's not done yet though, I still have to paint and put all your art supplies away," he explains, meeting you in the center of the room. He looks at you and then at the tears in your eyes, the heat rising in your cheeks. You don't say anything, his heart races in embarrassment. Maybe it wasn't enough, maybe you didn't like it. Maybe you wanted to do it yourself.

"And um, the guys from the shop, they uh, they brought books," he says, walking over to the new bookcase, "And I uh, I built this, like, with my hands."

He painted it to match the rest of the decor, a fun bright color that would hopefully draw the kids in to read. You'd mentioned that the got bored with the same ten books and weren't sharing well -- half of the books were falling apart since there wasn't anywhere to put them.

"And uh, I got you some new chalk -- white obviously, but I got you some multi-colored sets cause I know you like to do little sketches on the board during holidays and like, with spring comin' up maybe you could do little flowers or something?" he doesn't realize it, but he's gasping through his rambled sentences. Watching you walk toward him slowly.

"It's okay if you don't like it," he assures, "You can tell me and I can fix it I just wanted to--"

Your kiss feels like a spoonful of summer warmed honey on his cold lips. It trails down his throat and into his chest, down through his fingertips and his toes. He feels your soft hands cup his face, resting against his cold prickly cheeks. He's afraid to touch your face because you haven't given him a manicure yet this week. He doesn't want to scratch you with his rough hands, so he places them around you instead, frowning when you finally break away with a soft click.

"I just wanted to do something nice," he says against your lips.

"This is the best gift ever," you whisper quietly, a little sniffle stifling your cry, "It's very nice."

"Merry Christmas, baby," he smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

"Merry Christmas," you wish between kisses.

He wakes up wrapped up in you, in your sheets, in your scent, peering at you while you sleep soundly next to him. You both had barely made it through the door of your apartment before you both had shed your clothes -- landing on the bed with a mutual 'oof!'

It had been so long since he'd been present. Savoring every soft moan out of your mouth, every shake of your thighs, everything whine, every clench, the way you'd rake your nails down his back, the way you'd pulse when he held your hand. You both laid there together after round one, eating cookies in bed (which you'd allowed just this once), while he told you everything. About how hard it had been taking two jobs, how he'd completely shut down, about Wayne's insurance lapse, about the guys at work, about Steve coming to Macy's, about how much he loved the gifts you got. About how he cried the night he yelled at you but was too afraid to face you after because he felt so awful. He listened when you told him that you just needed some time, but that you felt awful that you weren't there when he needed you.

"Need you all the time," he mumbled between heated kisses, "Never lettin' you outta my sight."

His eyes rolled and his toes curled when you took him in your mouth, letting you take the lead. He gasped and writhed, whining for more when your tongue swirled and sucked, showing him how much you missed him. How you'll always take care of him -- and he made sure to show you how he'll take care of you back.

Round three was long and drawn out, slow and sensual, close and quiet -- your boom box playing low static by the end.

Your eyes opened, stretching out when you see him sitting up in bed.

"You heading out?" you yawn.

"No, baby," he smiles down at you before laying back down, losing himself under the covers with you again, "I have the week off, so I'm intending to spend every moment I'm not with Wayne, in this bed, with you."

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson

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xxspringmelodyxx · 8 months

Text

Why Not Me~

Ayato x Female! Reader (Angst) Oh, hello my dear readers! We are back at it again with the lovely angst :) I won’t go into too much detail, but basically, you and Ayato have been friends for a looooong time. Eventually, you developed feelings for him! Unfortunately, you took way too long to finally work up the courage to ask him out, and he had found another woman. Now, you are going to meet that woman and see what she is like…yay…Anyways, that's pretty much it! I hope you all like it! Enjoy~

_________

I looked up ahead with a fake smile plastered on my face, getting ready to finally meet the woman who captured Ayato’s heart. I was still a good ways away from them, but I could still manage to see a sight I would have never wanted to see. The man who I had come to love deeply was happily kissing another woman. Not just any woman, but the almighty, well-known traveler. I felt my chest tighten as they lovingly looked at one another. I wanted to be angry at Lumine, I wanted to hate her–but I just couldn’t. After all, it’s not her fault that Ayato fell in love with her. Ayato only saw me as a childhood friend, nothing more, nothing less. Plus, Lumine was basically a goddess compared to me. Her gorgeous features, her sweet personality, and all the amazing things she accomplished had me beat.

I finally made my way up to them, greeting Ayato. He looked over at me and his eyes lit up.

“Y/n, you made it. I hope the walk wasn’t too much.” He said, making you chuckle. To be honest, it was a long walk…almost 20 miles from where I was.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Though I’d much rather prefer if we could meet somewhere in between next time.” I said, making him laugh.

“I apologize for making you walk all this way…I just figured it would be a good time for you to meet my girlfriend since she was in the city. You never know when she’s off for another commission.” He said, wrapping his arm around the blond-haired girl. She smiled sweetly at Ayato, placing her hand on his chest.

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Lumine. How long have you known Ayato?” I asked, trying to make small talk. Before she answered, I swear I saw her glare a bit at me.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for about three years now, but we’ve been together for almost 6 months.” She responded. I nodded

“Well, you are one very lucky girl…and I could say the same about Ayato. I mean he is dating the legendary traveler we’ve all come to know about.” I said, praising her.

She smiled, getting closer to Ayato.

“Yes, we are both so very lucky. I’m glad I could get my hands on him before anyone else could~” she said, eyeing me up and down.

There was an awkward silence.

“Well then, I’m a little parched. Shall we all settle down for some tea? I’ll have Thoma make it.” Ayato said, making my eyes light up. Thoma’s tea is the best I have ever had.

“I would love that.” I said, making Ayato smile.

“Well, then you two go ahead and get to know each other while I go help Thoma make some tea for us.” He said, walking away into his home.

I looked towards Lumine with a smile, trying to be nice to her.

“So, Lumine. What brought you back he-”

“Cut the small talk. You don’t need to try and pretend to be friends with me.” She said, catching me off guard. “What?” I asked, hoping it was just a misinterpretation.

“I know how you feel about Ayato. I know about your dumb stupid love for him, but I want you away from him. I don’t want to see you anywhere near him after today, got it?” She said, making me grow frustrated with her.

“Now you listen to me. I have been best friends with Ayato since we were little kids. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do with him. Besides, I don’t think he’d like the way you are talking to his best friend.”

“Oh, you won’t tell him.” She said confidently.

“And why is that? Enlighten me.” I said with an angered look on my face.

“Because If you do, this…” She said, holding a necklace that was very important to me. It was my mothers. She gave it to me right before she passed away from an illness that couldn’t be cured.

“Will be destroyed in an instant.”

“How did you-“

“I found it on Ayato's desk. He told me it was yours and that you had accidentally left it at his place when you last saw him.”

“You wouldn’t dare-“

“Oh, but I would. You see, having you around Ayato makes it very difficult for me to accomplish my mission.” She said.

“What mission? What are you going to do?”

She smirked while walking around me, taking a good look at my presence.

“Ayato is a very wealthy man, which of course can be beneficial for me. I can do whatever I please with his money, but also, his high ranks will make me look greater than I already am. I can get into places I was once not allowed into…and I can take control over things I would have originally not been able to do so.” She explained.

“So, you’re just dating him for his money and status!? You’re terrible! Wait until I-” I spat out.

“Until you what? Tell him everything I just told you? Now why would you do that when you know the only thing left in remembrance of your mother is in danger of being completely destroyed?”

I quickly shut up and looked down, thinking of something, anything I could do to stop her. Then, out of instinct, I ran towards her to grab my necklace back. However, she quickly swept her foot under mine, making me fall. I got back up and punched her to make her let go of my necklace. I pushed her down and yanked on the necklace as she pulled on it too.

“Give it back, you crazy bitch!” I yelled at her.

Suddenly, a voice was heard that I did not want to hear at that moment.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Ayato yelled. We both looked up at him. Lumine pushed me off of her and ran towards Ayato, crying the fakest tears I had ever seen.

“Ayato, my love. All I was trying to do was talk, but then she-she ran after me and punched me.” She said, showing him her black eyes that I proudly hit.

“Are you kidding me? Ayato, she’s lying! She is just using you for your wealth. She even threatened to damage the one thing that is important to me!” I retorted.

He glared down at me, making me confused.

“How could you hurt her? After all she’s done for you? She saved this city! You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her!” He raised his voice at you.

“Ayato, you seriously can’t believe her-“

“I believe every word. Why would she lie to me?” He said naively. I just stared at him with disbelief.

“Ayato I-“

“Enough! You’ve done enough already. I thought maybe you would be happy for me that I found someone who could love me. Someone who I truly loved. But I guess not.” He said with disappointment.

“I think it’s best if you leave.” He said, turning away from you and towards Lumine, tending to her eye.

You looked towards her and saw her smirking at you while Ayato was hugging her.

“Fine. If you truly believe Lumine over your best friend who has done nothing but be there for you, I guess I’ll leave.” I said, turning away.

“And don’t worry, you won’t ever have to hear from me again.” You muttered to yourself.

Lumine smirked once more as she saw your figure leave, happy she got rid of you just like that.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you some ice.” Ayato cooed at Lumine.

—

Thoma saw the whole thing, shocked at Ayato’s outburst. Why did he not believe you? You two have known each other for several years now, yet he trusts the girl who he has only known for a few years?

He followed you back to a little park. He saw you plop down on the ground, your knees going to your chest.

He knew he needed to step in and help you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, making you look up at him.

“Oh, hey Thoma. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be up with Ayato?” You spoke. He saw your tear-stained face, quickly kneeling down to you.

“Y/n…” was all he said, knowing good and well what really happened. Your eyes started to fill up with tears once more as you hugged him. He hugged you back tightly, making sure to keep you safe.

“He didn’t believe me…after all these years, he doesn’t believe me.” You sobbed.

Thoma rubbed your back, hurt from seeing you like this. You were like a sister to him, and him a brother to you.

“I know…I don’t know what went through his head. But I want you to know that I believe you.” He said, making you look up at him.

“You do? Why?” You asked, making him smile down at you.

“Because I trust you. Plus, I remember you crying over a dead butterfly because you accidentally stepped on it. After that, I knew it was almost impossible for you to hurt someone unless they deserved it.” He said, making you glare at him.

“That butterfly probably had a family! And besides…I did hit her. But it was because she stole something from me.” You spoke up.

He looked at you, pushing you to continue.

“She took my necklace…the one my mother gave to me before she…you know.”

“Why’d she have that in the first place?” He asked.

“I accidentally left it on Ayato’s desk after I left. Now that she has it, she’s threatening to destroy it if I get any closer to Ayato. I can’t even see him anymore.” I said.

Thoma was one to usually never get angered by something so easily, but when it came to someone he cares about, it always ignited inside of him if he learned they were hurt, or in this case, threatened.

He got up and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“I’m going back there to settle things once and for all. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, especially after all you've done for Ayato.”

Your eyes widened as you quickly ran up to him.

“No! Stop Thoma!” You said, pushing him to the ground.

“Y/n, get off so I can go teach Ayato and that bitch a lesson.” He said, catching you off guard.

“No! If you do, she will destroy the only thing I have left of my mother.” You said as your voice started to break.

“Please, Thoma. She’s already taken someone who I loved away from me…don’t allow her to take the other thing I love away, too.” You begged, making him frown at you.

“Ugh, fine. But only because I don’t like seeing you hurt. But if she does anything else to you, it’s game over.” He said.

“When did you become so violent?” You asked with a small smile.

“When I found out that someone was threatening someone I care for.” He said, making you smile.

You two got up and dusted yourselves off.

“Well, no matter what Ayato says, I still want to see you. It will be boring if I don’t. I’ll even teach you some of my cooking tricks…and maybe how to make my amazing tea.” He said, making your eyes light up.

“Really?”

“Of course! It’s about time that you learn.” He said, making you smile.

“I would love that! But I’ll only go there for you. I can’t be anywhere near Ayato or else that necklace is gone. In the meantime, I'm gonna have to figure out how to get that necklace back.” I said, making him nod.

“Well, I better head back. Meet me whenever you’re ready. But make sure it’s soon. I don’t wanna worry about whether or not you are coming if you take too long.” He joked, making you smile

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon. For now, I’m going to go back home and figure some stuff out. So I’ll talk to you later Thoma.”

“Bye y/n. I’ll see you soon!” He replied, watching your figure disappear.

——

A few months had passed, and Ayato was desperately missing you. After the whole argument took place a while back, he quickly took notice of your absence. Almost a week after that incident, he saw you coming towards him. The fight was put behind him, and he was ready to greet you with a warm hug. However, he was confused when you walked right past him without even acknowledging him. He thought you were just in a hurry but was awfully mistaken when you continued to do this every time you came to his place. What made things worse was that you would always go to Thoma. He would see you and Thoma laughing and smiling at each other. Ayato couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous every time he saw you two together.

That’s when he started to talk to you…well at least try to talk to you. He would ask how you were doing, only to hear a short reply from you.

“Hey y/n, how are you?” He would ask

“Fine.” You would say, quickly walking away from him

“Are you doing anything today?”

“‘M busy helping Thoma.”

“Wanna go walk around?”

“Not now.”

No matter what he tried to get you to talk to him, you just wouldn’t. And every time it happened; he felt his chest tighten.

Today was no different. He was sitting with Lumine, watching you talk happily with Thoma, smiling to your ears around him. Why were you acting this way?! Was it because of the argument you two had?

Lumine was talking the whole time, but Ayato was too busy focusing on you. He made sure that Thoma wasn’t trying to make a move on you.

But why was he feeling this way? After all, you are single…and he had Lumine…so he shouldn’t be acting this way towards Thoma.

Then why was it that every time he saw Thoma hug you, whisper in your ear, or laugh with you, he felt…sadness and jealousy? He had Lumine…that was all he needed…right?

Ayato’s eyes widened as he started to realize that his feelings towards you started to come back. No, he got rid of those emotions a long time ago…there is no way he could possibly still be in love with you, right?

He looked over at Lumine who was off in her own world, talking about her commissions, then over at you. He saw your smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you talked to Thoma. Oh, how he missed the way you used to look up at him like that. How he missed hearing your beautiful voice. He didn’t notice, but his grip around his tea glass was getting too strong, and in an instant, the cup shattered into pieces, catching everyone’s attention. That’s when he finally made eye contact with you. He finally got to see your gorgeous e/c eyes. But that relief was soon filled with hurt when he saw the light in your eyes disappear. They were filled with dullness and…sadness?

“My dear! Are you alright?” Lumine asked, but he stayed silent. The two of you stared each other down, seeing who would break it first. Unfortunately, you were the first one. He heard Lumine grumble when she saw the two of you staring at each other.

Odd.

Suddenly, Ayato saw you stand up and thank Thoma. That’s when you turned around and started to leave. But no, Ayato wasn’t going to let that happen this time. Not now.

“Y/n!” He said a little too loudly. You stopped in your tracks, but never turned towards him.

“Why don’t you come here and join me for some tea? I know it’s your favorite.” He said.

“No thanks. I’ve gotta go-“

“Yeah, besides, you don’t need her darling. You can talk to me.” Lumine interrupted, making me glare at her.

“Y/n, please-“

“I said no. I’m leaving. Goodbye Thoma.”

That’s when Ayato snapped.

“Thoma this, Thoma that. Hello Thoma! Goodbye Thoma! I’m sick of you saying his name! What about me?” He said towards you, making you wrap your hands around your body. The truth is, this hurt you as much as it hurt him. You so desperately wanted to make amends with the man you loved…but he chose her over you…and you can’t risk losing your necklace. Not after losing the only thing that was more important than the necklace.

“Oh, now you’re not even speaking to me again. Great. Go ahead, ignore me then. I’ve never seen you act this way before, and quite frankly, I don’t care for it.” He said, setting you off.

You turned around, and looked him dead in the eye, anger filling you up.

“You don’t get to speak to me like some child! Not after how you treated me the day of our fight!” You yelled back.

“You’re still on about that!? That was months ago! Get over it!” He yelled back.

“Get over it!? How the hell am I supposed to just get over someone who I thought was my best friend, no, the love of my life, believe some girl he barely met a while ago instead of the girl who has always been there for you since day one!” You yelled, not realizing you just confessed to him. His eyes widened as he heard those words come out of your mouth. You…loved him. Suddenly, he felt his heart flutter in ways that Lumine could never make happen.

Lumine looked pissed.

You continued to go on.

“Ever since the incident with your parents, I have been there with you, side by side. I made sure you had someone to sleep next to when you were afraid, I made sure to lend you my shoulder for you to cry on when you needed it, I fucking let my happiness go for you so you could be happy with this bitch you call your girlfriend!”

“Y/n…”

“But even after all of that, it still wasn’t good enough for you. I will never be good enough for you. I can’t even surmount her beauty, her knowledge, her strength, everything! She will always have the higher ground.”

Is that what you thought about yourself? That you were nothing compared to Lumine? How wrong you were. In Ayato’s mind, no one could compare to you. Everything about you is unique and special to him. Everything about you is what made him fall head over heels for you.

“Y/n. You’ve got it all wrong-“

“But one thing is for sure. I have more love for you than she ever will. And if you think for one second that I enjoy ignoring you, then you must not know me well at all because I have been dreading it!”

“Then why are you doing it!?” He asked, begging you to tell him

“Tell me why!”

“Because you chose her over me! And not only that, but if I get anywhere close to you, that necklace that she is holding will be destroyed! I already had you taken away from me, I can’t have that taken from me too!” I yelled, making him look down at Lumine. He couldn’t believe it. For the first time, he could see what you were talking about. He could see the hatred in Lumine's eyes as she stared at you.

She grabbed the necklace and held it high.

“No! Stop!” You yelled, trying to run towards her

“Ah, Ah, Ah! Take one more step and this thing is gone!” She yelled

“You will walk away, and once you are finally gone, I will send it to you personally. But I no longer want you around Ayato. Is that clear!” She said, making Ayato furious.

“Now you wait just a second. Y/n will not-“

“Fine.” You interrupted him, making him look up at you.

“If I leave Ayato for good, you promise to give me the necklace back?” You asked, Ayato staring at you in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious, y/n. You’d seriously leave me just to get your necklace?” He asked, heartbroken.

“I have no other choice. Seeing as you have already made yours, I have to deal with your consequences.” You replied nonchalant

“Y/n, stop. I don’t like hearing you say that-“

“I don’t care, Ayato. We are done. It’s over. Once you made your decision to trust her over me, all the feelings I had for you vanished.” You said, lying through your teeth.

“You don’t mean that-“

“Oh I mean every fucking word.” You said. You looked towards Lumine with a glare.

“I’m leaving. That necklace better be at my place within a week.” You said, turning on your feet. However, Lumine smirked and let go of the necklace, letting it drop from a high altitude. Ayato, Thoma, and you all looked at it as it fell. Ayato suddenly pushed her away and ran toward it to try and catch it, but it was too late. The delicate necklace had made an impact with the hard floor, causing it to smash into pieces. You yelled as you tried to grab all the pieces, holding them in your hands. Tears fell from your eyes once you saw the damage.

“Guards! Seek this woman out now!” Ayato yelled. Suddenly, a group of large men came and grabbed Lumine

“What!? You can’t do this! I am Lumine damnit!” She yelled but was ignored and finally thrown out of Ayato’s home. He looked down at your broken frame, his heart clenching. He knew how important that necklace was to you. And it was his fault for breaking it.

He heard you sniffle and quickly tried to kneel down to you, lending you a helping hand. However, you pushed him away with hatred in your eyes.

“Go away! Just get away from me! I don’t want to be around you and I don’t want your help! You’ve already done enough damage!” You yelled at him with a breaking voice.

“Y/n, I just-“

“No! Stop talking!” You yelled, rising to your feet, the broken pieces still in your hand. You started to walk out.

Ayato felt tears well up in his eyes

“Y/n! Come here-“

“I don’t ever want to see you again! Never! It would be best for you to just disappear from my life.” You said, slamming the gate doors shut as you left without another word.

Ayato’s tears fell down his face as realization hit him.

“Y/n…I-I’m so sorry…” he said as he knelt to the ground with a severe pain in his heart. He had officially lost the true love of his life.

———————————

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #angst #genshin #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #genshin ayato #thoma #kamisato ayaka #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #ayato x you #ayato x fem!reader #kamisato clan #ayato angst #genshin impact angst #genshin angst

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

at your service • e. jaeger

synopsis: after an injury, your husband is more than happy to care for you.

content warning: influencer reader, super cute fluff, eren giving (y/n) princess treatment, mentions of bodily harm and injury, slight angst, tiny mentions of sex, casual dominance

📝: just some cute fluff with our favorite rapper because I need the comfort today and I couldn’t stop thinking about domestic musician eren. 🥹 he just does sum to me.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧

“Is that right? Well, that’s unfortunate but I really don’t give a damn. My wife is hurt and there’s no way I’m leaving her side. Find somebody else.”

(Y/N) could hear the intense conversation transpiring between your husband and whoever was on the other line out of earshot. As per, Eren was being his irate self. Blowing off a performance that he just wasn’t interested in doing. He had been contacted by the directors of the University of Miami in hopes of getting him to headline at their annual homecoming festival. Which always featured some of the biggest stars. Granted, he might have taken the gig if he were bored enough and had absolutely nothing else to do but he couldn’t be vexed. Especially when his precious baby was lying in bed, leg elevated on a stack of pillows and wrapped in a cast. Your arm? Bandaged up and damaged from the result of a nasty fall during a routine at a concert. Somehow, the stage crew forgot to bolt your pole to the floor correctly and as you went for your solo, it went crashing and carried you with it! An eight foot drop that was more painful than anything you had ever felt: The footage went viral, as did many things you did nowadays and everyone was terrified for you. You let everyone know you were fine but would be out of commission for a while…as you had experienced two hairline fractures and a bruised rib. Needless to say, Eren was livid and after rushing to the hospital to ensure you were okay, he rushed to the venue to find the people responsible. Raising hell that no one was ready for.

for now, you were stuck recovering at home while your girls finished out the remainder of the tour without you. It was a bummer and your spirits were a bit crushed…

“Go ahead, I’m still not coming. So you can tell the college, AMG and whoever else to kiss my ass. (Y/N) is the only person I’m leaving this house for. Ask me again and I’ll quit right now. Don’t call me for shit else. Goodbye.”

luckily, you had the most handsome nurse on the planet to care for you! EJ hadn’t even so much as thought of a studio or anyone else. Staying by your bedside, waiting on you hand and foot once you returned from the hospital. He had just finished up his call and headed straight back to check on you. “Hey princess…how are you feeling? In any pain or anything? Something I can get you?” His sweet words followed by a gentle hand caressing the side of your face, followed by a kiss to the forehead. He knelt down beside you, swiping his thumb over your hand. Even in this state, he glared at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. Currently, you were tucked into bed, surrounded by plushies, games, flowers, books and all things synonymous with a get well soon package. He had spent hundreds, if not thousands in a matter of days on beautiful bouquets and gifts to brighten your mood. He wanted to ensure that you didn’t go stir crazy or get FOMO while you were home so he ensured that your girls got to chat with you every day on FaceTime, watching them practice which made you feel better. Knowing they’d do everything in their power to make it the best show possible in your absence. Your fans poured into your DM’s and mentions, wishing you well and showing their love with edits of their favorite influencer and dancer. And you even made sure to hop on live when the pain medication wasn’t taking its toll. Even you guys’ housekeepers were working later just to ensure the lady of the estate had all she needed. A testament to your character and how well you both had treated them. Something many celebrities failed to do. It felt good to know that you were so adored. Turning your head to face your sweetheart, you’d run a hand underneath his chin and return his peck. The concern on his face was taking its toll and you had to remind him that you were just fine!

“I’m okayyyy, my love. I’m more worried about you. Have you even slept? And did you just cancel ANOTHER gig?”

a question he truly did not want to answer out of fear of you getting upset. Because truth was, he hadn’t been able to sleep much knowing that his princess was in pain. Hearing you wince from a cough that caused your rib to hurt or when your casts began to itch and couldn’t be touched. He couldn’t stand it..more so, he couldn’t stomach the thought of what could’ve been? What if you were in the midst of one of your more insane stunts? Ones where you were twenty feet in the air, dropping at insane speed to match the artist’s rhythm..only God knows how that would’ve ended. But even so, he was still going to do everything in his power to ensure your comfortability. Regardless of if it were at the cost of his own rest or reputation. All of his projects were on hold for further notice, his performances postponed and a meet and greet put on the back burner. A small sacrifice for his sweetheart he’d make any day. And he didn’t care who didn’t like it..

“Me? I’m good! I had a nap on the couch earlier so I’m straight. You though? You need to eat. When you’re done, I’ll help you get a bath and I can do your hair for you..I picked up some of that oil for your braids that you use. Your stylist told me everything to get.”

so typical of him..going above and beyond to make sure that everyone of your needs were met. Not changing word, not getting frustrated or angry once. Planning things out and thinking ahead so you didn’t have to. Almost as if he were glad to do it. He made your life so much easier and honestly, you couldn’t wait to get better so that you could pounce on him and thank your husband for all his hard work. You had heard and experienced first hand the horror stories of women getting left by their spouses when they’re sick or hurt. How calloused men could be. Your own ex would avoid you like the plague when you so much as got a common cold! So this was new to you but much more inviting. Thinking about it sometimes made you want to tear up..which was inevitable at this point.

eren would soon turn his head amid his prideful rant, feeling accomplished in doing something right to find your eyes welling up. “Wait, did I say something wrong?! I’m sorry if I—“ to which you’d halt with a laugh afterwards. “No..not at all. It’s just that..I’ve never had anyone be this nice to me before I met you. I’m thankful, ‘s all. I’m so sorry for burdening you with all of this.” To which, you’d find yourself immediately thrusted into a hug and a kiss to follow. Cupping a palm around your cheek, Eren delicately brushed away those tears and kept you in his grasp. “Stop it..that’s my job, princess. To make sure that you’re always taken care of. You’re the most precious thing in my life and the best to ever happen to me. I’d do anything to keep a smile on that pretty face of yours. I love you, (y/n) and I’d do this a million times over. So please, don’t ever apologize.” You had never seen such sincerity in his face. ‘Though sickness and health’ wasn’t just some empty vow for him. He meant every word and he was going to fulfill his promise of loving you unconditionally until hr drew his last breath. You were his entire world and nothing..not even a broken leg could change that. He didn’t love you any less because of it. “..Oh..Eren. I love you so much..” “I’m serious, princess. Don’t ever forget that. I love you more.” The two of you would seal your declaration with a deep kiss and do away with any sad thoughts. Hopping up immediately after, he’d return to his normally silly self and head off towards the bathroom. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere.” Having to get at least one joke off on you. Which prompted you to smack your lips and giggle. “Where are you going anyways?” “To get the nail polish and face masks. My gorgeous girl deserves to be spoiled.” That and the fact that he thoroughly enjoyed doing it too. You were certain he’d have no problem getting comfortable with tending to all of your beauty needs in absence of your normal routine. Shaking your head, you merely chuckle.

“You know, I’m starting think you’re having far too much fun with this.”

which was fine, because he was happy to be at your service.

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copiousloverofcopia · 3 months

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For the ghoul fuckers out there, here is my recent commission for @dantesunbreaker featuring our favorite gremlin, Dew!

Thank you so much for allowing me to write this for you. It was once again a pleasure and thank you for letting me to share it with others as well!

Also once again please be gentle with me I am not the best when it comes to ghoul content, but I am so happy that you all are giving me a change!!!

If you are interested in commissioning me, my carrd info can be found on my pinned post!

Never Change

The upcoming tour has you on edge when your devilish lover Dew decides to create a stir. While he meant no harm, the ghoul's antics only add to your frustration. When things reach their max and you can no longer continue, it's up to Dew to remind you on how to relax.

Also available HERE on AO3!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

Your head was pounding. The dark circles under your eyes, beginning to feel like a permanent fixture on your face and It seemed that as of late that the days grew longer and the nights shorter. You had begun to feel the weight of all the responsibility, you had at one time so willingly taken on. Now taking its toll more than you had ever expected.

At first you were elated to have even been asked. Working hard for the Ministry to ensure a successful tour for the Impera cycle was something any siblings would be honored to be a part of. There were days, however, when you hardly left the main office. The small room set aside for you, covered in an endless array of paperwork and incomplete itineraries.

At times it felt like you too were collecting dust, just as the numerous artifacts and forgotten tomes that surrounded you. More often than not, worried that the more you accomplished—the more you still had to get done. The ominous feeling of dread hitting you from the moment your eyes peeled open with the light of the sun. All of it, you often thought, would be a little less infuriating if it hadn’t been for your own personal gremlin—Dew.

You had fallen for him some time ago—back when you first became selected as a Canon for the Cardinal. A prestigious position within your Italian sect of the Ministry. You were ready to make a name for yourself just when Dew came into your life. Instantly drawing you in with his fiery and unpredictable nature. He was a force to be reckoned with, and he kept you on your toes.

The excitement between you left you with a sense of meaning—feeling more exhilarated and alive. All of your desires found to be mutual, leading to a romance between the two of you that rivaled that of Antony and Cleopatra. Hot and heavy, it was a wonder you ever got anything done. All of that, however, came crashing down when Cardinal Copia became Papa.

Your workload tripled overnight and suddenly you had gone from being able to sneak away to an alcove for some steamy afternoon delights, to being stuck behind the same four walls. Working day in and day out for weeks on end. No end in sight until the beginning of the tour. Worst of all, once the Ghost tour started and Copia left, Dew had to go with him.

You had tried not to think about it. Secluding yourself from the rest of the group. Dew, at first doing his best to give you space. At some point however, there was only so much he could give before a ghoul like Dew could no longer contain his natural urges.

This week was the worst of it. Dew finding new and inventive ways to drive you mad. First was him clawing up the sofa in the office. Leaving behind a trail of threaded up seams and worn down arm rests. He was a glorified cat in his own right, you thought, praying Sister Imperator would not hold you accountable.

The rest of the week Dew filled with the antics, the likes of an impetuous child. Trying desperately to gain your attention and doing his best to distract you from your responsibilities. Taunting you with the feel of his slick tongue running down the nape of your neck. His claws, grazing at the heat of your sex, all while you were elbow deep in monotonous paperwork. It took all the power you had inside you to shoo him from the office. The aching he left between your thighs—absolutely torturous.

You weren’t sure which was worse, the sexual edging or that he finished things off yesterday with a naked roll in the expense reports. Dewdrop, taking advantage of your quick trip to the refectory, to cover the pages in something wet. You, returning to find him amongst the pile of papers, all of them streaked in black ink and fluids. Of which the origins you dare not ask.

While you had tried to explain, in vain, why it wasn’t the time or the place. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t bring yourself to explain it in a way the ghoul would understand. To him it was all fun and games. He was teasing you after all, and if he wasn’t allowed to have you then this was the best way he knew to spend the time.

Now as you sat at your desk, you waited for the next Dew episode to take place. Feeling the tears pricking at your eyes when the door to the office creaked open. Your scrunkly handsome, mischievous, and smug ghoul wasting no time to step inside. Noticing right away when he walked in, that your face held more than the suggestion of tears.

“Hey babe… what’s got you all?” Dew asked, gesturing over his face with his hands. You let out a sigh, taking in a deep breath in through your nose, before exhaling sharply through pursed lips. Feeling the resolve you had been holding on to, quickly crumbling down.

“I—I just can’t take it any more Dew.” you told him. Sobbing into your hands as he quickly closed the space between you.

“Hey, hey, hey peanut. Tell me what’s going on? Are they adding more work for you again?” he asked, ready to throw hands with whatever clergyman had the balls to give you even MORE to do.

“No, that's not it.” you sniffled. Drying the tears with your sleeve as they fell from your eyes. Dew’s normally grumpy face, turning soft and concerned in their wake. His tail, coming to rest sullenly between his legs.

“Then… then what is it?” he asked, seeming to be genuinely unaware of what troubled you. The ghoul, bringing himself to sit beside you on your desk. Hopped up along the edge like a wistful kitten, wanting to comfort you.

“I am overwhelmed, that's true. Sister is on me to finish up all the contracts for the European venues and to top it off I just found out they are adding another date in September that I need to work out the details on and well… frankly Dew,” You paused, deciding to tell him the truth once and for all,”...you are NOT helping.”

“What? What do you mean?” Dew asked you, feeling a bit blindsided by your comment. Unsure of exactly what you were trying to tell him.

“I am running on empty. I have so much left to do and all this stuff with you is making the load feel ten times worse. I just wish… I just wish you’d stop with all the crazy while I am trying to work!” you yelled, putting your head down on the desk. The pounding inside of your skull intensified. It was all out in the open now. Dew pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of your words. Wishing he could take back everything he had done the past week.

“Hey…” he began, nudging you with his horns. You carefully lifted your head to meet with his gaze. This time your impish lover was staring back at you with soft, loving eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh?” you asked him, wiping away the remainder of your tears. Dew pulled you into his arms. Wrapping you in them, allowing you to release in his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I let things get out of hand. I never in a million years wanted to make you unhappy and I surely didn’t want to make you break down.”

“Oh Dew… it’s not just you. I—”

“No, I know… but I could have done better to make sure you weren’t getting into a bad place. That was also my fault. I promise you that this will never happen again.” he smiled, running his hand over your hair.

“I don’t want you to change Dew…” you told him. Worried that he might have misinterpreted what you were trying to say.

“I am not talking about changing who I am, baby. I am talking about not adding more to your plate when you are at max.” he explained, assuring you that your lovable Hellraiser would still be the same ghoul you fell in love with.

“Good, cause I wouldn’t have you any other way.” you smiled, bringing your lips to his. Feeling the heat rising between you. Your heart, already beating away as the blood went surging through your veins.

“Promise me something, will you?” he asked.

“Of course… anything.” you smiled, finding Dewdrop’s look of sincerity–incredibly cute.

“Never let this happen again, ok? Don’t wait until you are on the edge before you say something to me. Promise me that you will start to take breaks when you need them. You aren’t invincible babe. You need time to ground yourself too.” Dew explained. You nodded in agreement, surprised that such sage words came from such an unlikely source. Clearly his time spent in Copia’s company was rubbing off on him.

“I promise.”

“Good. You know, even us ghouls know what it’s like to need a break. I can empathize with you more than you think. The long hours on the road, lack of sleep, the constant needing to bring your A-game. I promise you, the constant burnout will make things harder and you’ll get even less done in the end.”

“Really?” you said, though you shouldn’t have been surprised. Dew was part of Ghost and had been for some time. Of course, he knew what it was like to live in chaos and like he was running on fumes.

“Really… so make me a deal. I promise if you start giving yourself the time you need to recoup, then I will stop being such an ass.” Dew winked, “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“...and you know there is one thing I can do to help you relax—if you’ll let me.” he smirked. Instantly your skin was flooded with goosebumps. Your body, knowing even before he’d made a move EXACTLY what that one thing was. Dew dropped off the edge, turning to lift you up out of your chair onto the desk as he buried his face in your neck.

Teeth scraping along a delicate spot as he breathed his hot, steaming words of affection against your skin. His claws, gently traveling down your chest to your stomach as he unbuttoned your shirt. Feeling his desire for you growing hard against the inside of your thigh. Already your body, getting wet at the mere suggestion of him.

“I’m gonna show you just how well I can get you to relax baby.” Dew purred as his fingers slid over your zipper—undoing your pants. You hummed in approval, wiggling out of them as fast as you could without losing your position on the desk.

“Show me… I need you.” you moaned. Chewing on your bottom lip and watching as his deep, piercing eyes fall to the center of your lap. His fingers, finding their way diligently to the wet spot of your underwear. Dew wasted no time teasing it with his digit. Rubbing you there until it was soaked all the way through.

“That's right baby… that's what I wanna see. I love how fucking wet you get for me.” he growled. Moving now to sink his fingers fully inside you. His fangs, following suit as he bit into your neck.

“Ah!” you cried out. Reveling in both the pleasure and pain combined between you. Rolling your head from side to side as the sensations overwhelmed you in the best way. Dew began to lick and suck at the bite. Leaving purple marks of ownership behind them. It would be clear to anyone who saw you, that you belonged to him. That he belonged to you.

As you leaned back on your elbows, Dew lifted up from your neck to watch as he pushed his fingers carefully past your folds. Licking his lips as he pumped them in and out of your dripping wet pussy. Hungry to taste you more than anything he had ever tasted before. Not satisfied enough just to have watched you squirm.

“You’re so good for me.” he purred again. His thumb, circling over your swollen clit before he began once again dipping his fingers in and out of you. Your hands, wandering over his sleek back and tangling in his long hair, just before you reached his horns. “Fuck.” he groaned, he loved that. Knowing that they allowed you more control—and he was determined to let you use them. Happily guiding his mouth down along your folds.

“Ah…mmm…” you mewled as Dew dropped down between your legs. His tongue slithering through your wet lips and licking up inside you. Alternating between sucking on your clit and lapping at your folds as he gently worked your insides with his hands. Humming against you as he did it–the vibrations driving you absolutely mad.

“Mmmm… So... fucking... good.” he moaned, palming his cock with his free hand. You wanted him. Needed him. Knowing that riding that cock and having him knot you was the only thing that could release you from the built-up tension. Your fingers gripped tightly onto his horns.

“I’m cumming… oh fuck I'm cumming!” you cried as he pressed hard into your g-stop. The sensation of his touch on the soft, velvety tissue—sending your hips up in the air. Dew, smiling against your clit as he felt you cum. Letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand while he delightfully lapped up your fluids. The juices covering his face when he pulled up to kiss you.

You were breathless and weak as you laid there on the desk. Unsure if you’d ever be able to move again—though you certainly wouldn’t have had it any other way. Your body, still falling from the heights of passion you’d reached when Dew lifted your legs up and over his shoulders. Hastily pulling his throbbing, leaky cock out from the confines of his pants.

“I think you’re still a bit tense.” he teased, you too blissfully pleasured to even respond. Well at least not with anything coherent. Dew began running the head of his cock up through your slick. Rubbing at your entrance to finish wetting himself before he was ready to slide inside.

He didn’t need to bother; you were already so needy and ready for him. Your hips rising up against his shaft. Trying hard to guide his cock inside. Begging for him to fill you, to provide you with the friction you so desperately desired between you. Thankfully you hadn’t had to wait long when Dew plowed his way in.

“Oh, fuck me!” you yelped as he pushed himself in to the hilt. His meaty cock, meeting with the farthest point of you. Dew was only too happy to oblige. Withdrawing backward, just so he could more forcefully pound back into you. You gripped tight to the back of your legs. Dew’s hands placed on either side of you on the desk to help steady himself as he thrusted away. Fucking harder and harder into your tight, little core with every thrust.

At one point it crossed your mind that you and Dew were most likely fucking on top of the expense reports from that morning. At that moment, however, neither of you cared. Your body, too engrossed in how good it felt to have him inside you. Bucking away as he pressed tight across your walls, filling you so well you could hardly stand it.

“Dew… I wanna cum… cum with me.” you mewled. Your wanton cries of desperation, making Dew grit his teeth, hoping to hold back his own climax. There was nothing so hot as you begging for him to let you cum.

“You want me to cum baby? Well, you gotta cum for me first.” he demanded, his tail snaking up your leg and teasing at your asshole. The fluids from your drenched pussy, spilling down over it as it worked its way inside.

“Ah!” you cried out as his tail entered you. Slowly fucking your ass as Dew continued to fill your pussy to the brim with his cock. You couldn’t barely stand it. Stretched fully inside by him. The sensation made you want to explode. Unable to hold back as your orgasm came ripping through you so fast that you soaked the desk below.

Dew wasn’t satisfied yet. Lifting up and gripping the back of your legs as he pounded harder. His thumb brought back to your clit, continuing to fuck you in both your holes. His tail swirling around inside your ass and pressing up against his cock, from the other side of the thin walls, while he thrusted into you.

Neither of you could sustain it much longer. The wet sounds of his lap, meeting over and over again with yours, was absolutely salacious. The well earned sweat, dripping down his back as he continued on. His speed, beginning to slow as he grew closer to his own climax.

It was unmistakable when you felt it. His cock, beginning to swell all around inside. Pressing against all the right nerves as he spread you out, knotting you. His tail, continuing to move in and out. The two of you panting and whimpering as the pressure inside continued to build.

Finally Dew couldn’t last any longer. Cumming hard into you. Ropes of hot, sticky cum—painting the back of your walls as his tail slipped from your ass. You, beginning to completely unfurl before him when you clamped down on him once again. Tugging tightly to his knot as you felt the force of yourself squirting around him.

And just like that it was over, Dew collapsing on top of you. More spent than he had ever been before in his life. It seemed that this relaxation session was just as much for him as it was you. You held him against your chest, your breathing beginning to settle. A sense of calm, that was promised to you by your ghoulish lover, taking hold.

“You see,” Dew began while still panting away, “there is nothing like a good fuck to help you relax.”

“Agreed.” You told him, both of you laughing in one another’s arms. There was nothing more you would ever need, than to be held by those arms. No matter how crazy things got, Dew would always find a way to level with you. Even in times that didn’t involve an overwhelming amount of sweat and cum.

“Thank you.” you told him. You were finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. Even more so now, knowing that you could come to Dew with your problems. Knowing that you could be honest with him and that it was ok to give yourself grace when you needed it. No matter what he would always be there for you.

“Anytime.” Dew smiled, helping you up from the desk so the two of you could clean yourselves off. Suddenly, as you rose off the desk, a look of concern spread across his face. Accompanied by an even more worrisome nervous grin.

“What?” you asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer as you picked off the stray papers sticking to your back.

“Now… don’t get mad, but I think we might have gotten some jizz on Copia’s permit agreement.

“Dew!” you laughed, giving him a tap to the chest, “Never change.”

72 notes · View notes

deepdisireslonging · 2 months

Text

Ready for Tomorrow

The Reader finds out who brought her home after her binge. She regrets getting drunk at all, but things work out for the better. Much much better.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings/Promises: alcohol discussion, angst, fluff, smut (trifecta!)

Word Count: 3540

Note: Here is part 2 of the commission I received. I tried to squeeze in as much heartfelt emotion into this part as I could. Let me know how I did, and happy reading!

Part 1: Replacing the Regrets

Quietly, you reached into your nightstand for your throwing knives. Your blood ran cold.

They weren’t there.

As footsteps approached your door, the worst options of who could be on the other side of the wood swirled in your head. You didn’t feel drugged. But you had plenty of enemies whose real faces you didn’t know by sight. None of them should know where you lived. Henchmen and mob bosses could have found out. Unless you told them while drunk.

You kind of hoped it was Dick about to walk in. You had been careless.

As the doorknob turned, you slid to the side of the bed, ready to jump and defend yourself.

“Mornin’, sunshine. How’s your head?”

“Jason?”

His hair, ruffled from sleeping in who knows what tangled position on your couch, barely covered up how his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah? Who did you think brought you home, Sweetheart?” His focus shifted to not spilling anything on the tray in his hands. So, he had made you breakfast. And when your answer wasn’t forthcoming, he eyed you again before placing it in your lap. “You don’t remember? Anything?” He chuckled, unsurprised. “Wow. You were ‘out’ out. Don’t know why I’m surprised, considering how you acted last night.”

You swallowed thickly. “How- how did I act last night?”

“Clingy. Crying. To your credit, you only threw up once. And it was in the bushes before we made it to the bike.”

“You brought me home on your bike!”

He shrugged. “Didn’t want to leave it there. And I’m not positive a cab would have come even if I called one.” Handing you a fork, he eyed you again. “That was… an interesting part of town you were in. What made you go there?”

Instead of answering, you let your thoughts congeal while taking a bite of your breakfast. He had remembered your favorite fare. “I- The only good thing about that side is that people don’t usually ask questions when a girl wants to drink alone.” You took a sip of coffee, nearly choking on how strong it was. “Clingy and crying. That’s not too bad.”

“Nah. And I’m used to it.”

The guilt turned your bones to magma, making you wish you could melt through the floor. All of those conversations about his mother and having to clean up after her hit you hard. The weight of him crying into your shoulder when she was gone. Missing her even after everything she had put him through. Knowing that you had made him relive any of that, even to a small degree, made your heart ache. When you tried to fumble through an apology, he waved it away. Still, you pressed on. Even when he took your fork and started feeding you between sentences.

“Really, it’s fine.”

“But- you shouldn’t have to be used to it. Not from me.”

“Let it go.”

Biting back further attempts, you drank your coffee. “Did- did you find my failed date?”

Jason smiled, making his dimples shine. “Yeah. Dick got to him just as the muggers arrived. Your description of that creep was accurate.” He looked at your nightstand. “You got a funny way of going straight-edge. Or are you just anti-meds now?”

“No. I didn’t know how I got home, or with whom. Wasn’t going to take anything suspicious.” You crossed your arms with a pout. “You could have left a note.”

He frowned. “I did. It’s-” Where he pointed was only bare wood. With a little searching, he found the note behind the stand. “Ah. That explains your confusion. And your knives are in the kitchen. I didn’t want to get stabbed if I brought breakfast before you woke up.” He nodded at the little round assistants. “You can take the pills now.”

“So, they’re not contraband raided from one of your side hustles?”

“No. They’re from the pharmacy around the corner. Since I couldn’t find your personal stache.”

“It was behind the bathroom mirror,” you said, swallowing them down.

With a bluster, he whined, “I thought I looked there!” Grumbling, he sat on the edge of your bed. “How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes before you dropped something. And what was the loud noise before that? Sounded like a gunshot.”

“I – uh. I had a little trouble with your gas stove.”

You paused. “Jason. Did you blow up my kitchen?”

“No!”

You failed to hide a smile behind your coffee cup at his rushed answer.

“No. Nothing’s singed. Everything is fine.”

“Uh-huh.” You finished your breakfast in silence while Jason felt your forehead. “Jay? I’m- I am really sorry about calling you. Not- not calling you because I was in- in trouble but calling you… calling you while I was- while I was like that. I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk.” You sighed. “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk at all. Or at least had a plan of who to call instead of all of you.” With a wince, you ran a hand over your face. “How did Cass react?”

A warm smile passed across his face. “She was in the middle of beating up some loons by the docks when you called. Let you go to voicemail, then checked in with Dick to make sure you were okay. While he rescued the guy, I came to get you. But Cass texted me a few hours ago that she’s saved your message for posterity.”

“Shit.”

After putting the tray on the floor, he slid into bed next to you. “Wanna know something funny?”

“What?”

“Tim didn’t get your call either. Alfred grounded him. And the kiddo was actually asleep when you phoned.”

You laughed, high and free. “No way. How many hours?”

“Last I heard, he’s still asleep.”

“Geeze.” Giggling, you relaxed into Jason’s side. His arm stretched behind your neck, giving him the perfect reach to trail his fingers over your shoulder. You breathed in silence, relishing having Jason’s weight beside you. “I’ve missed this.”

He pressed his face to yours, poking his indefinitely cold nose into your temple. “Me too.” For a second, he squeezed you closer. “You could always come back, ya’ know. The Bat has been telling us about what you’ve been doing in the office. But it sounds mind-numbingly boring. You don’t even have to join the Bat crew again. You could just work with me.”

It was a friendly offer. But how could you tell him that the last thing you wanted was to dodge bullets again? You couldn’t tell him that even the thought of it made your lungs stutter. Being the Oracle equivalent for Jason sounded like a good way to hear and watch every possible bad thing happen to him. Knowing what was going on in Gotham’s underworld was one thing. You’d seen enough. But you wouldn’t be able to help him, not like he would truly need. That realization burned your stomach. Instead, you deflected. In the worse way possible. “Why’d you bring me back here? Why aren’t we at your place?”

With a groan, he left your side.

You caught his hand. “It’s because it’s not safe, isn’t it? What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He picked up the tray. “Get some rest.”

“No, Jay. We need to talk about this.” You gingerly slid out of bed to follow him into the kitchen. You hated to ask, but you offered anyway. “If you need help, maybe there’s something I can do from-“

He let the tray clatter onto your countertop. “This isn’t something you can fix from the office. What I’m doing, what I’ve always done… it’s hands on, eyes open in the dark. No hiding behind paperwork or feigning legitimacy in the daytime.” With a groan, he steadied himself. He did his best to keep his voice level at you while still being angry at Bruce’s way of things. “It’s okay that you left the field. You’re doing good work right where you are. But I can’t operate that way.”

“You think I’m hiding?”

Jason frantically shook his head. “No. Not at all. It’s just-“

“Well maybe I am.” A sniffle shuddered out before you could stop it. “I am bored in that office. There’s not a single person I can connect with. The paperwork is mind-numbing. Do you think that’s all I want? I loved being in the field. I loved working with my team. But- it became too much. Always watching my back. Always on high alert any time I was in public, in gear or in civilian clothes. There were times I didn’t know who I was anymore. Every thought I had, and sometimes I still have, sounded, and felt like Batgirl. All the time. Every call or text needed an immediate action response. I wanted- I needed a break. I wanted to be able to breathe without the pain of some fight or another. But now that I’ve got it… I feel so lost. I never knew if you guys were whole or bleeding. Every second of the news is something terrible. One country falling or another. Murders, climate change, bureaucratic corruption. It got so heavy, Jason.” You covered your face with your hands, your voice small. “It’s still so heavy. I thought it would be out of sight, out of mind this way, but it’s not. But I can’t- I can’t go back. Everything we did felt like three steps back.”

The tears were flowing hot down your cheeks. Maybe if you cried enough, you could float away on them like Alice to Wonderland. Your breath stuttered as Jason embraced you. You shook in his arms. The weight of what you said, what you had done to him and to the team didn’t leave. But the way he held you tight felt like he was helping you hold it up, making the load a little lighter. You leaned into his chest further, but tilting up your face so you could breathe.

Then he kissed your forehead, making you freeze. Gasping, you struggled not to sound breathy, and failed. “What was that for?” You waited countless seconds for his answer.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

When he tried to step back, you clung to his shirt. You pulled him closer. “But – it felt good. It made- it made everything… quiet.”

Above you, he swallowed. “Would- would you like me to do it again?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

His lips pressed gently to the same spot as before. While you inhaled, breathing in the relaxation it brought, Jason took hold of your hands. He held them to his chest, willing you to feel his thundering heartbeat under your fingertips. With his thumbs over your wrists, he could feel your pulse racing.

Panting, he whispered, “do you just want to be held? I can do that. We – we don’t have to—”

“If I say I want this…” you ran your nose under his jawline, “can we – can we do this?”

He nodded fervently. “Yeah. Do you want this?”

“Yes. I – I need this.” You kissed behind his ear. “Do you want this?”

“Yes. I have since – I want to make you feel… needed. Just for being you. Not for your mission seasoned body. Not for your case-solving brain. You. Because you are enough.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes. “Thank you.”

He grinned against your forehead. “I haven’t started yet.”

Cheeky bastard.

Still, you smiled into his neck as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he carried you back into your bedroom. He laid you down gently. Inhaling softly, he ran his nose along the side of your face. “How’s your head?”

“No complaints yet.”

Jason exhaled a laugh. “Good to know. For later, maybe. But for now,” he trailed off as his hands ghosted up your sides, under your shirt. The fabric remained mostly in place; a promise to go as slow as you wanted.

You placed your hands over his, guiding the fabric of your shirt further up until Jason helped you remove your top. A few more movements and you were bare to him. He did his best not to stare, but his lingering gaze made your skin warm all the same. His hands fumbled to remove his clothes and remaining pieces of gear. Surprisingly steady, your hands did most of the work. He sucked in a breath as your fingers trailed over his skin, as your nails dragged over his muscles. And as your fingerprints brushed over his scars. He caught your exploring hand in his. Jason caught your gaze with his as he raised your hand to his lips, kissing over your knuckles.

“Do you still want to do this-“

“Yes. Please, Jason.” You leaned back into the sheets, arching your chest forward. Hiding a smile, you let your eyes close… just so you could suavely open them. When you did, you watched as his mouth parted for a silent gasp. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he dove to kiss you. It wasn’t a kiss like you had become accustomed to: one to pin you down and claim you before some guy you didn’t care about took you. This kiss was warm, making your heart swell with what Jason said with each passing second of having his lips on yours.

For a perceived eternity, that was all he did: kiss you. Your mouth. The tops of your cheeks. Your breath stuttered when he tilted his head to kiss under your jaw and then down your neck. His hands smoothed across your arms and waist. It smoothed out the trepidation of the life you had chosen. All that mattered in this moment was that you had chosen him. And he had chosen you. Damn what the morning might bring. He was yours. Right now. Holding you and kissing you like the world could end any second and you would be the last wonderful thing on his mind. It made you drip for him when his hands finally wandered lower. The way his open mouth stuttered against your skin, and how his grip tightened on your waist, told you he wanted to ravage you. Still, he held back.

“Don’t- don’t wait. Please,” you begged. “I need you.”

Gently, you guided him to slot his body between your spread thighs.

“But- prep?”

“I need you.”

With a growl into your hair, he took his time sinking into you. Even then, when fully sheathed, he waited for you to catch your breath. As if you could when he was looking at you like he wanted to remember you this way forever. How you were spread out for him. Full of him. And begging and keening for more. How your body quaked and writhed, your voice already hoarse while pleading for him to move.

Jason kissed your forehead, keeping his lips pressed against your fevered skin. He dragged out, making his own mouth drop open to feel your walls unwilling to let him go. His name fell from your lips like an answered prayer as he found a rhythm. You gripped at him wherever you could.

Was this what it felt like? To be really wanted? Not just a fling, not just a one-night stand or means to an end. But wholly, truly desired?

It took your breath away.

“Where’d you go?”

You looked up and your view filled with Jason’s concerned face. “Nowhere. Just –” How could you put it into words? With the way life had been going lately… a tightness in the back of your throat stole your words.

Jason smoothed his thumb down your cheek and down your nose. “Hey. I know that face. I need you to know something.” His thumb continued its ministrations, while the hand on your hip squeezed you reassuringly. “You are an amazing friend. And an amazing woman. I know you feel unseen. Like you’re moving through life as a ghost until someone needs or wants something from you. You see more than people give you credit for. And you carry too much in that big heart of yours.” His voice softened. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“But your night life-“

“What about it?” He kissed your forehead. “Let the rest of the Bat-crew worry about that for the next forty-eight. Right now… all I’m thinking about is you.” As he leaned closer to breathe warm air over your pulse point, he speared you deeper. It made you gasp. As did the tender kiss he placed on your shoulder.

“More, please.” Even though tears pricked at your eyes. Even though you could barely breathe. You dug your nails into his back to hold him close enough that he couldn’t see your face. “Keep- keep talking. Please, Jason-”

With a groan and fighting off the desire to fill you right then, he continued. “I want to be the only reason why your pulse rushes. Why your breath hitches like that. And now that I’ve got you,” he nuzzled his nose under your ear with a growl you could feel to your toes, “I’m never letting you go.”

You hiccupped a sob. It made him stop. You tried to tell him to keep going, but Jason held back from every cell of his being wanting to plow you into the bed.

“If you want, we can stop. We don’t have to do this tonight. We can just hold each other if that’s what you need.” He began to move away, but you scrambled to hold him close. Jason melted into your touch. He hummed, “what do you need? Hmm? Tell me, baby girl. What do you want?”

You shuddered all over. “I don’t want to think. Please.”

He speared you again. And again. Until all you could fathom was the sensation of him inside you and clinging to you. His lips murmured soothing, wonderful things against your skin. Making your hips stutter in their pace frantic to match him. Jason’s breath hissed out between his teeth, and his hands gripped your hips tight, dragging you towards him. He was desperate. Desperate to feel your body sucking him in. Desperate to hear your broken cries and how you whimpered his name. He was desperate to feel you cum.

“What do you need, Sweetheart? I’m here. Cum for me, come on. Let go.”

Within a few more thrusts of his hips, it was all you could do. You cried out his name, your vision blurring. Digging your heels into his lower back, you did your best to keep him as deep as possible. Your desperation, and your release, dragged Jason down with you. His mouth fell open on your shoulder, barely managing to moan your name before his body seized. His pace stuttered; overwhelmed but seeking out those last few bursts of pleasure. When neither of you could stand another spark, he fell beside you.

You shivered as he curled you into his chest.

That would have been enough. You would have happily fallen asleep, despite the mid-morning light wanning into afternoon.

“You know I meant it all, right?”

“Hmm?” Struggling, you managed to reopen your eyes.

“I meant every word.” Jason ran his thumb down the curve of your nose. “You are amazing. And you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t just have me. You’ve got the whole crew if you need us. Don’t let yourself stress yourself into another binge. Call me. Or any of us. Okay?” When you sighed positively, he smiled against your forehead. “Catch some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And we’ll figure this crazy life out. Together. One day at a time. Alright?”

“Alright,” you hummed, finally drifting off.

That nap was the best sleep you’d had in months. When you woke up, you felt weightless. The earlier mid-morning light from your first wake-up had softened to a mid-afternoon glow. You didn’t care one ounce that your sleep schedule was probably screwed. Screwed, heh. With a smile, you inhaled deeply and stretched, pleasantly sore in all the right places. The blankets were warm as you snuggled back under them.

Jason’s arm wrapping around your hip nearly startled you out of your skin.

“What?” he rasped. His post-nap voice was exquisite. “Did you think I’d really leave my girl before she woke up?”

You bit your lip. “Your girl?” Under his surprised gaze, you shrunk further into the bed.

“Mhmm. Every day from here on out. Like I said. We’re going to figure out this crazy life together. But first,” he dragged you close to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’m starved.”

“Oh?”

Jason had absolutely meant something else. But when your eyes glittered, his smile turned ravenous. You ran your fingers through his hair, splitting his white streak into several strands.

Then your stomach growled.

He laughed deeply, his whole body shaking. “Alright, come on. Now I get to cook you some dinner.”

You let him tug you out of bed. His warm wrists dragged you through your own apartment. The upcoming week and its issues weren’t a blip in your mind. No matter what the Gotham life threw next, you had everything you’d ever need to conquer it.

***

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#reader insert #dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #batfam smut #batfam fluff #batfam angst #answered commission

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