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formosusiniquis · 2 months

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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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eufezco · 1 year

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joel miller x fem!reader

c/w - fingering, begging

sarah was in her room with a friend. they both left you alone in the living room a while ago. even though they invited you to go with them, you knew that you'd be a bother to the two girls. you could hear the giggles coming out of her room from there. you were curled up on the couch, your favorite show playing on the tv, and wrapped in a blanket that had joel's scent.

you got up once you hear the keys turn in the door.

"oh my god, hi. i haven't made you any dinner yet–"

"it's fine, i'm not hungry."

"i thought you said you were going to be late tonight-"

"yeah, but we've finished earlier."

joel had been thinking about you the whole day. you arrived a few minutes before he had to leave so the only thing he had time to give you was a quick kiss hiding in the bathroom. one of his arms was wrapped around your waist to help him pull you closer and both of you hoped that tommy could distract sarah for at least a couple of minutes more so that you could enjoy those few seconds you had. but the girl bursted into the bathroom. you quickly leaned into the mirror, pretending you were checking if there was something between your teeth and joel ran his fingers through his hair, pretending to be fixing it.

"you'll have to tell her one day." tommy reminded joel once he got into the car.

"shut up." as if he didn't know.

joel squeezed both of your cheeks and went in for a kiss. you threw your head back before your lips could even brush against each other. he arched his eyebrows at you and you arched yours at him. seconds after that, sarah appeared behind you. he used to be more careful when you both started this, making sure that sarah wasn't around before spanking your ass, checking several times that she was in her room before helping you to jump on the kitchen counter and encircle your legs around his body, even a little kiss on your cheek had him checking that sarah was still busy... but now he'd grown more confident, even though you were caught by tommy, joel truly believed that you were doing a great job of hiding it from sarah.

his daughter ran into his arms but his eyes were still on you. you hit him where it hurt the most. his ego. and he wasn't going to let this go just like that.

sarah accompanied you two to the kitchen, telling her dad about her day and asking about his. you insisted on preparing dinner for him but joel assured you that he wasn't hungry and that a glass of water would do the work. sarah left for her room to call her friend so she could say hi to joel before they both asked if she could stay over. you stood on your tiptoes, trying to reach a glass for him when he approached from behind. his chest pressed against your back as he grabbed the glass himself, his mouth was really close to your ear, your ass against his crotch and his free hand held your hips in place.

"next time you're gonna have to beg for it." he murmured in your ear. his words sent shivers down your spine. before the two girls got to the kitchen, joel was already away from you, drinking peacefully his glass of water like nothing happened.

you sat next to him on the couch, your legs on his lap as you asked how his day went and he asked you about you and sarah did. joel's hand was on one of your thighs, softly drawing patterns on the fabric of your jeans. his voice was deep as he complained about this new client, showing how tired and long his day had been. your foot started to massage his crotch, and joel had to fix his posture on the couch, less tense and leaving you more access to that area for what your dirty mind was planning.

he kept talking about his day, needing to take small breaks to gasp or to bite his lip down holding back his moans. you crawled your way up to his lap, his hands quickly finding your hips and yours on the back of his head, running them through his hair there.

"and i've been thinking about you all day."

"is that so?" you teased him. you know he wanted to hear that you've been thinking about him as well.

"oh, yeah." his hands moved to unbutton your jeans. he took his time unzipping them, wondering what panties you were wearing and how ruined they should be by now. joel sneaked his hand inside your jeans, making you take a deep breath at the sudden contact of his rough hand against your pussy through the thin and drenched fabric of your underwear. he smirked proud of that reaction. you might not have said what he wanted to hear but your body couldn't hide it. his fingers skilfully moved your panties aside, enough for his middle finger to go inside you and his thumb to press your clit.

"all day thinking about you..." he kept talking. you inevitably curled your fingers and tugged his hair at the root. he added another finger and began to pump them in and out of you at a slow pace while his thumb drew circles on your clit.

"...and when i get home..." your mouth opened in a perfect "o" form as you tried to keep your moans as quiet as you could. you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your lips sucked on the sensitive skin, creating a beautiful red mark under them. your wet kisses moved to his ear where you let out a few moans with his name, knowing how that turned him on. your breath against his ear spiked goosebumps on his skin and his erection grew painfully inside his pants, he had to focus to not stop moving his fingers. meanwhile, your lips kissed from his jaw and his cheek to the corner of his lips, and when you finally were gonna kiss his mouth, joel threw his head back all of a sudden, just like you did when he got home.

"... you don't even want to kiss me." your lips tried to find his again but joel kept rejecting your kisses. you whined and shook your head.

"it wasn't- it wasn't like that." your hands moved to press down his abdomen. your eyes closed shut after feeling his fingers go harder in you. "she was gonna see us, joel, it wasn't like that, i promise..." you breathed out. your hips rolled against his hand, seeking even more friction on your clit if possible.

"well, it seemed like it." joel answered and you shook your head at his words again. you rested your forehead against his, his calm breathing mixing with your agitated one. "you know what you gotta do, baby. now, beg-"

"please, joel- please, i need you, please." you cried out before he could finish his sentence.

joel clicked his tongue. "oh, come on. you know you can do better than that."

you were desperate. you needed his lips on yours, you needed his tongue in your mouth, you needed joel biting your lip, you needed your moans to die in his mouth. your walls clenched around his fingers, that familiar knot and warm sensation forming in your lower abdomen.

"fuck- baby, please. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry but please, i need you, joel." and when his fingers hit that sweet spot inside you and your legs involuntarily closed around his hand, his lips collided with yours, quieting your moans as you came and finally giving you what you so badly desired.

you rested your forehead on his shoulder, exhausted and trying to catch your breath. you appreciated his soothing words on your ear as you recovered as well as his free hand caressing your hair.

"if i have to beg again for a kiss, we're done, joel miller."

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tkingfisher · 1 year

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So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Sizes. (141+Alejandro x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, gang bang, rough sex, double penetration, pretty much porn without plot, read at your own risk

Fem!Reader

(Summary): 141 decides to have reader see who's dick is the biggest after a night of drinking.

A laugh leaves your lips as Gaz jokes with you. He’s been chatting you up for a while. A mission went a little south, everyone had been battered and bruised but everyone made it out alive. Which is the important part.

Price decided to let everyone have a couple days to themselves to heal and feel better, which meant everyone gathered up every bit of alcohol they could find and met in the lunch room to drink.

It had been a few hours and everyone was drunk. Glossy eyes, red cheeks. Lazy smiles. Everyone talked and laughed together. You and Gaz were listening in on a conversation Soap and Ghost were having, a debate. On which of them had the biggest dick.

You sent Gaz an awkward laugh. “What the hell are you two on about?” He interrupts their conversation. “We’re talking about who has the biggest dick. I think it’s me.” Soap crosses his arms. Gaz smirks. “Mmm. I think you’re wrong. I think it’s me.”

By now, everyone’s attention had been grasped. “Let’s make a bet then. Who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah, but how are we going to know?”

"Uhhhhh. Y/N! Y/N can be the middle man, ah? How does that sound?" Soap says. “Um. Excuse me?” You laugh. Looking up from your drink.

"We wanna know who has the biggest dick between all of us." Your eyes widen. "Yeah. Me too.” Price says, walking toward the table. “Christ in heaven, you’re all just a bunch of teenage boys in adult male bodies.” You cover your face. “Come on Y/N. Help us out.” You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

------

"Alright. So.. In order. I don't know, do you want details?" You ask. "Sure." Alejandro asks.

"Alright, Ghost won by a landslide. I'm just gonna say that now. As for the rest of you. Soap and Price have almost the exact same size, Price has a little more girth on Soap, but other than that.. Alejandro and Gaz are pretty close too, but where they lack in girth they pick up in length so. I don't know. All of you are 6 inches and above."

"Soft?" Gaz asks.

"There's a woman playing with our dicks, Gaz. Full confidence I'm above 6 with a semi." Soap laughs. You roll your eyes. "Anything else you need me for? Or can I go wash my eyes out with bleach?” You laugh. All eyes are on you, a break of awkward silence. “I’m gonna take that as a no.” You laugh awkwardly, pushing passed Soap.

"Wait." Soap grasps hold of your arm. "Need ya for one more thing." He smiles, pulling you back. Each of them moving toward you, forming a circle around you. "Uh.. What is going on?" You ask. "Trying to give you a couple more sins to wash off, señiorita." Alejandro smiles. "What?" You look completely confused.

Soap pulls you into him, breathing up against your ear. "We already know what we need to know. Just want to know, which of us can make you cum the hardest.” He breathes. “I-I” you blush. “Shhh. Relax sweetheart.” He chuckles. “You’re so tense.” He breathes out, nose brushing up against you cheek. “I.. I don’t think I understand.” You breath. He pushes you back up against the table behind you, lifting you up onto it. “We’ve talked about it. A lot.” Alejandro smiles, brushing his hand up your thigh. Soap still has his hands on you. They’re all staring at you like a pack of wolves, ready to devour their prey. “I just don’t think this is a good idea,” you try to stand up but Soap pushes you back. “Relax. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“Here.” Price passes you a cup. It’s full of some kind of liquor. “It’ll help.”

Your chest raises and falls, nervousness settling into your chest. All of their eyes are on you. You stare between the cup of liquor and them. This was their way of asking for consent. If you take the cup, they’re going to ruin you.

Who are you to ruin their fun?

You take it from his hand and tip back the entire cup of liquor in a few huge gulps, flinching. Each of them getting an evil grin on their lips.

Soap helps you undress, grasping the hem of your shirt and raising it up over your head. He watches the way you start to relax into his touch, the liquor you had helping ease up your nervousness. “Lay back.” He mumbles, you obey immediately, something he takes a liking to right away. He grasps your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down your legs, panties going down along with them. You’re completely exposed to them, and you can hear their bodies moving around, belts coming off, clothing moving against clothing as they undress themselves around you. “Gonna ruin you, Cariño.” Alejandro mumbles, he’d moved around the other side of the table, his face near your head. Gaz stood to your left, still undressing himself. Ghost to your right, Soap between your legs. The only person you didn’t see was Captain Price, maybe he’d changed his mind. Soap slides into you unexpectedly and a gasp leaves your lips, but gets muffled as Alejandro slides himself into your mouth. You moan around his shaft as Soap starts to hammer his hips into yours. Gaz moves toward you, lifting up your hand to place it on his cock. Ghost doing the same to your other side.

For a few minutes, the only thing you hear are moans and groans, coming from each of them. They’re so touch starved that even just small brushes against you have them groaning out. Ghosts head is tipped back as you move your hand fast against him, he’s holding his shirt up over his stomach, watching the way you pleased him. Gaz is doing the same on your other side. “Fuckin hell.” Soap gasps, holding your thighs up as he fucked his himself into you. “You’re dripping around me sweetheart. So perfect.” He gasps, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit as you squirmed around him.

Alejandro is still fucking himself into your mouth, you’re sucking back as hard as you can and his thighs are shaking, trying desperately to hold himself together. “Little slut is good at this ah?” He smirks. Hand moving down to cup your breast, giving it a small squeeze. “Getting me close already, you want me to fill this mouth?” He breathes. You moan around him and he smiles, gripping into the table. You could feel the table shaking violently underneath you at Soap’s hard thrusts. He’s fucking into you steadily, and you can feel your first orgasm growing in the pit of your stomach. You’re wrapped so tight around Soap, pulling him closer to the edge with each thrust he took. “Shit..” he moans out, eyes screwing shut. Alejandro is holding a death grip in your hair, holding your head steady as he fucks your throat. The back of your throat would be bruised from his assault, but the only thing you could seem to thing about was Soap, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re balancing on a tight rope, and right as you’re about to fall off, Soap moans out, sliding out of you and pumping his cock. Watching you be used like this has him about to cum already. He pumps his hand up his cock quickly, groaning out loud as he finishes up your stomach and chest. You’re whimpering around Alejandro, at the emptiness you feel. Desperate to feel it again. Gaz is quick to swap him places, sliding himself into your tight hole. You moan around Alejandro again, eyes rolling back as Gaz bottoms out immediately, hips snapping into yours. Soap leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. Alejandro’s hips halt and he holds you down on him, your skin turning red as your air was cut off. He finishes down your throat, cock throbbing hard and you swallow it down quickly. A gasp leaving your lips as he pulls out of your mouth.

You’re panting, taking in breaths like the air is limited. He leans down, looking down to see Gaz fucking you. You’ve still got a tight grip on Ghosts dick, pumping him hard and fast as you’re getting filled. You try not to move too quickly, keeping your hand at a steady pace, Ghost can’t help but admire how you pace yourself even under this amount of pressure. He smiles down at you. “Fuck she’s tight.” Gaz laughs. Tilting his head back. “Yeah she is.” Soap whimpers, smiling against your skin. His lips have attacked you, leaving love bites all over your chest, sucking at your nipple until you squirmed. Alejandro is still watching Gaz fuck into you, lips near your ear as he mumbles into your ear. How good of a girl you are, letting them fuck you like this. Use you like the toy you are.

“I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, and they smile at your sudden outburst. Soap leans down, rubbing his fingers fast over your sensitive nub until you’re crying out, orgasm hitting you like a massive tidal wave. A cry leaves your lips, drawing laughs out of each of them. “That’s it. Milk my fucking cock like that. Throbbing so hard around me.” Gaz gasps. Ghost swaps Alejandro, sliding his dick into your mouth. You were nervous for when he was going to fuck you. He was massive and he’d stretch you more than anyone else. Your lips were being stretched, you could feel them splitting and cracking around the sheer size of him. He fucked himself into your throat and kept you focused on him. Ghost plays with your other breast, Soap still assaulting your other with his lips. He pinches your nipple hard, pulling a cry from your lips, smiling as it gets muffled around him. “Such a good girl.”

Your hand is working up Soap and Alejandro’s shafts, moving at a steady pace. They’re both so sensitive but enjoying the overstimulation from you. You’re covered in cum and Lube, hands had been drenched at some point. Their cocks were slick with it as you pumped them fast, squeezing with the perfect amount of tightness. Dog tags and belts rattled throughout the room. Dangling in front of you. The light was bright, dizzy from being drunk, eyes watery and blurry from being fucked so good. Gaz slides out of you, hand working the same as Soap had, until he finishes on your chest with a groan. Letting himself go. He backs away and disappears from the table, but you don’t notice. Ghost still filling your mouth full, pushing you to your limits. Alejandro is next, hands gliding up your thighs. Your pussy is pink from getting fucked, throbbing and dripping and he smiles, grasping his cock in his hand. He lines himself up with your entrance, tip pushing your folds apart as he slides in. “Fuck.. she is tight.” He growls. Saving no time to fuck himself into you. He holds your thighs with his arms, squeezing them maybe a little too hard as he pounds into you. You moan around Ghost, hand still stroking Soap. “Fucking hell you are sweet.” Ghost groans. “So fucking.. perfect, such a filthy mess.” He gasps out.

Alejandro feels a little pathetic. Maybe it’s how sensitive you’ve made him, but his high is approaching quickly. He tries to slow his hips, your free hand clutches the table in a death grip, and your hips lurch into Alejandro. “Gonna cum again sweetheart?” He smirks. Ghost keeps your mouth full, but your body shakes violently as Alejandro fucks you. “Fuck.. your tightening around me has me so close.” Alejandro groans out, pulling out of you, and just like the others, finishing in your chest, groaning out, hand getting covered in his own cum. Ghost slides himself from your mouth, Soap switching him places. You hear his heavy footsteps moving to your feet and you pant heavily. Your raise yourself up onto your elbows, watching him pump his cock, moving to your entrance. “Shhh. Relax.” Soap mumbles into your ear. “You can take it sweetheart. Promise.” He kisses your cheek, kissing your jawline and down your neck, sucking and biting at the skin there. You feel the tip of ghosts cock start to stretch you and you gasp out, a cry leaving your lips. “Ah, I can’t- I can’t take it!” You cry. “Shhh.. Relax.” Soap tries to soothe you, running his hand over your hair. “You can. You can take it, and you will. Just relax.” Ghost pushes deeper and you lay flat on the table, clutching at the sides. Tears filling your eyes as he filled you. You were fucked out and overstimulated. There wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t covered in sweat or cum. Your hair was damp with sweat, face beat red.

Soap could see the small blood vessels broken in your cheeks, little red spider lines covering them. Lips were split and slightly bloodied from being stretched. You were covered in love bites from him, all over your neck and chest. It was a sight for sore eyes. When Ghost bottoms out, he tears a cry from your throat, tears streaming steadily down your cheeks. “Yeah that’s a good girl, take him.” Soap mumbles into your ear. “Watch sweetheart.” He helps you prop yourself back up. “Watch him fuck you.” Soap reaches down across your chest, fingers pressing against your clit.

You’re unsure where Gaz and Alejandro have gone, probably to clean up and call it a night. You still seen no sign of Captain Price.

Soap rubs fast circles against your clit, Ghost hammering his hips into yours. “Such a pretty girl sweetheart.” Soap whispers into your ear, reassuring you and egging you on to take it further.

“So fucking tight.” Ghost groans out. Voice deep as he does. Your eyes stare down to where Ghosts massive cock disappears into you and you’re silent, body shaking each time he thrusts his hips into you. You’re right on the edge again and he can feel it by the way your push clenches tight around him, milking his cock. His eyes stare into yours, and you watch him stare at you, you can tell there’s an evil smile on his lips by the way his eyes are. “Those are some dangerous looks you’re giving me, princess.” Ghost laughs. “Looks like you wanna devour me.” You don’t say anything, don’t even move. Your eyes fixated on him as he pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm. Soap draws his hand back, but you stop him. “Damn.” He laughs nervously. “She’s really into this. Look at her.” Ghost chuckles. Your eyes screw shut. “Goddamn!” He yelps, eyes widening. You reach another orgasm, tightening and throbbing around Ghost. A mewl leaves your lips and Ghosts eyes roll back. Once he’s ridden our your high, you’re squirming from Soap rubbing at your clit. “Gotta stop, she’s gonna make me cum already.”

“Captain, you ready?” Soap pulls his hand away from you, and you whimper at the loss, Soap smiling. He returns himself, seeing Price tip back the rest of his whiskey, putting out his cigar.

He starts to undress himself and Soap returns his hand, rubbing fast circles on your clit again. “Can feel you throbbing around me. Gonna cum again, already?” Ghost looks down at you. You nod your head, cheeks still stained with tears. Your eyes roll back, resting your head on Soaps chest since he was bent down near you. “That’s it. That’s a good girl.” Soap smiles. A gasp leaves your lips and you take in another breath.

Ghost slides out of you after he’s ridden out your second orgasm, looking forward to the way you’ll have a 3rd around him. “Lay on your stomach.” Ghost says, grasping your arm. You do it immediately.

Soap passes Ghost the bottle of lube they’d gotten for this. He squeezes the bottle, getting maybe a little too much on his hand as he circles his finger over your puckering hole. “Relax.” Ghost says. You take a deep breath, looking to the side as he slides his finger into you. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, you hadn’t felt it before. You moan out as he draws his finger back, adding a second. You gasp out, clutching the table. “Oh fuck!” You cry out. “She’s ready, Captain.”

You hear heavy footsteps coming your way. “Can you stand sweetheart?” Price asks. Pulling you off of the table. Your knees buckle underneath you, and he laughs. He lifts you up, walking along with you until he reaches the chair in the corner of the room, set there in front of the large tv screen. Ghost sits down and Price helps you sit down onto him, straddling his hips, and he helps guide you back into him, a whimper leaving your lips. “I can’t take it-“ you shiver. “You can sweetheart.” Price smiles, slicking his cock up with lube. He’s standing behind you, Ghost is fucking his hips up into yours. “Just a little more sweetheart.” He reassured you, running his fingertips across your back to soothe you.

He presses his tip against your hole, your ass stretching out around him. Your body tremors as he pushes into you, crying out. When you finally feel his skin against your back, he’d slid in all of the way, your lips are parted, eyes glossed over. You’re in a different world of pleasure.

Ghost filling your pussy, Price filling your ass. You lift up on Ghost, testing the waters. Price slides back out of you, adding more Lube to slide easier.

You can’t focus. Can’t think straight. You’re panting, your skin is beat red. Your face is flushed and you can’t stop blushing. You straddle Ghosts hips and lower yourself onto him once again, feeling him stretch you out. “Fuckin’ hell you’re a minx.” Price breathes out from behind you, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel his cock brushing against your back. Ghost adjusted himself on the chair and you felt Price lining up with your ass again, leaning into the chair from behind you. You felt him slide into you, stretching you even further. The fullness you felt had your eyes watering. It hurt just a little bit as he stretched you out but the burn and feeling of fullness numbed you. You were fucked out already, unsure of how you could push your body to such limitations. You wanted them to use you just as they were, wanted to be a toy for them to use as they please. As they both began to thrust into you, you couldn’t keep quiet. Strings of moans and pleas left your lips like a poem. Price lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You’ll be a good girl, yeah?” He bites his bottom lip. “Yes s-sir.” You can barely get it out. “That’s it.” He smirks. Ghost grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you up, his warm breath against your ear. “You’re our toy, ours to use and fuck as we please.” He growls. The way they stretched you, pushing against each part of you that you never knew could feel so good. “Just one more time sweetheart. Cum for us one more time.” Price mumbles.

“I can’t-“ you cry. “It’s too much!”

A deep chuckle comes from Price’s mouth. “You can sweetheart. Just one more.” He mumbles against your ear, moaning at the way you tightened around him. “Such a good girl, letting us fuck you like this. We’re going to give it to you sweetheart, gonna make you cum so hard.” Price mumbles into your ear. Ghost has his head tilted back, resting on the couch. Hands on your thighs. Price has a tight grip on your hips. Steady thrusts into you as ghosts thrusts up into you. The both of them overstimulating you. “So tight around me again. You’re close hm?” Ghost runs a hand through your hair. “Cum on my cock, you can do it.”

A sob tears it’s way out of your throat when you reach another orgasm, body shaking violently when you do. Your knees give out, but Ghost holds you up, still fucking himself into you. You’re crying, tears streaming from your eyes again. Body shaking with sobs, so overstimulated you felt like you were going to explode. “S’okay sweetheart. Do you want us to stop?” Price moves your hair from your faces. “No-“ you cry. Price smiles. “Such a good girl.” He mumbles, hips still hammering into yours. “We’re gonna fill you full sweetheart. Gonna fill this tight ass.” Price groans out. “Fuck- fuck I’m going to cum.” Ghost groans out. Hips thrusting up into you harder and faster, holding you up since you were too weak. When he finally cums, he moans out. You expected him to pull out but he doesn’t. He lowers you onto him, letting you rest your legs onto the couch as his cock throbs with each spurt of his cum that fills you until you’re dripping back out around his thick cock. The groan he lets out is sexy, your eyes rolling back as you hear it.

Price tilts his head back, cock twitching inside of you as he reaches his high too. Throbbing hard as he finishes, his cum doing the same. Spilling back out of you as he cums. He gives you a minute before he slides out of you, watching his cum spill back out of you. Ghost lifts you off of him. Price buttons his pants back up, lifting you up so that Ghost can clean himself up.

Price carries you back into your room. Your skin is flushed and abused. Pussy throbbing. You have bruises on your thighs and hips from their grips on you. Lips split and swollen. A sight for sore eyes. “Did such a good job for us dove.” Price mumbles.

“Such a good job.”

———————

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I’ll be helping dig my grave for this later XD

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghostsoap #call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #john price x reader #ghost x reader #alejandro x reader #gaz cod #gaz mw2

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joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B blurbs: Isn’t She Lovely

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Summary: Joe brings the twins with him to one of his press conferences, but all Miles seems to want is ‘Momma’.

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

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*No particular date for this fic!*

(Joe’s pov)

“Joe, my mom’s calling. Can you take the boys with you?” - you

“To my conference??” - Joe

y/n, Tyson, and Miles came over to Paycor today to watch us practice.

Afterward, I and a couple of the other guys stayed back to play football with the kids. The guys made a few jokes after Tyson successfully threw a spiral at two years old. I thought it was accidental, but Ja’marr and Tee swore it was the ‘Burrow gene’.

Now that almost everyone had left the stadium, y/n and the twins were allowed to come into the locker room with me.

y/n got on to me about how messy my locker was. I told her it was fine, but Tee made a ‘Happy wife, happy life’ joke saying I should clean it.

In the end, I knew I would end up doing it anyway to please her because that woman had me wrapped around her finger. She has since high school.

Currently, I was just about to step into the media room when y/n came rushing up to me, the twins behind her, saying that her mom sent a text saying call me ASAP.

Zac had just walked out from his conference, and he heard our conversation.

“You’re allowed to take ‘em in if you want to. I know you would rather be with them than have someone else watch them.” - Zac

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” - Joe

“No problem, kid.” - Zac walked off

y/n stood in front of me, her phone still ringing, and I made a split-second decision.

“Go ahead, I’ll take ‘em, baby.” - Joe

“Thank you, you're the best, Joe.” - you

She looked around to see if anyone was present, and when there wasn't anyone, she pressed a quick peck to my lips.

I watched her speedwalk down the hall toward the women's bathroom to have some privacy, and I bent down to the twin's level.

“You guys have to go in there with me for my press conference, okay? You know those videos you watch of me with Mommy where the people ask me questions?” - Joe

“Yeh!” - Tyson

“You guys are gonna sit on my lap for one, okay? If you wanna leave at any point tell me.” - Joe

“Ok, Dada.” - Tyson

“What about you Miles? Sound good?” - Joe

“Sound great, Daddy.” - Miles

I stood up and picked them both up, one in each arm, and walked into the media room.

It was kinda funny watching the reporter’s faces turn to shock. They knew I was a reserved, closed-off person, and that I hated the media, so for me to bring my kids in here was surprising to them.

Pulling my chair out, I sat down and situated the boys on my lap. One sat on each leg.

Tyson laid his head on my shoulder while Miles was looking around, trying to figure everything out.

“How’s it goin’.” - Joe

Everything was silent.

“What’s this?” - Reporter 1

“A one-time thing.” - Joe chuckled

Everyone in the room laughed before a reporter spoke up.

“Who are these cuties?” - Reporter 2

“They're my two-year-old twins. Wanna say your names?” - Joe

I almost laughed as Miles immediately lept forward and grabbed the mic.

“I’m Miles.” - Miles

His voice was super loud in the speakers from how close he was to the mic, and I couldn't help but bust out laughing.

Eventually, I pulled Miles back into my lap and nudged Tyson. He silently shook his head.

“This is Tyson. He's my little mini-me and doesn't like the media like his daddy.” - Joe

The room laughed again before I continued talking.

“You guys can interact with the boys for a little bit but I'm here to talk football.” - Joe

For the first time since I walked in, the room fell silent, till Miles spoke up.

“Momma!” - Miles

“Someone wants his momma.” - Reporter 3 laughed

“Yeah. She’s on the phone, which is why I had to bring ‘em in here.” - Joe

“Momma?” - Miles looked up at Joe

“She’s on the phone, buddy. If you guys can't already tell, he's a momma’s boy. He’s more like her than me personality-wise.” - Joe

“So he’s social?” - Reporter 2 jokes

I laughed as I nodded my head, finding his dig at me to be funny.

“Momma!” - Miles whined

“Guys, excuse me, but I'm probably gonna have to call my wife.” - Joe

This was the most unorganized thing I've ever done.

Pulling my phone out to call y/n, she answered pretty fast.

“Hello? Are you still in your conference?” - you

“Yes, but can you come get Miles? He wants you like bad.” - Joe

“Oh yeah, of course. I’ll be right there.” - you

“Okay, good. See you in a sec.” - Joe

“I won't say I love you, so you don't have to say it back. I know you don't want that being picked up on the mic.” - you laughed

“I love you too, bye.” - Joe smiled

“What?!” - you

I hung up just after that, not caring that I said it right into the mic.

“She’s coming to get this one.” - Joe

I nodded at Miles, then realized he was waving directly at a female reporter.

Just a few seconds went by before the media room door opened and y/n walked in.

She looked at me, unsure of what to do, so I flicked my head telling her to come in my direction.

y/n walked up the platform steps and took Miles from my lap, who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Do you wanna go with Momma too?” - Joe

Tyson shook his head no and sat up, now facing the room of seated reporters.

I leaned the mic away from my mouth and whispered to y/n.

“Thanks, Mama. You look beautiful by the way. I'll see you after this is over.” - Joe grinned

She grinned at me, her cheeks flushing as she situated Miles on her hip before waking away.

When I faced the reporters and fixed the mic back to point toward my face, they all had smiles on their faces.

“Did… did you guys hear that?” - Joe

All at once they all said yes, yeah, mhm, yup.

My cheeks turned red from embarrassment, this was an absolute trainwreck.

“So… Tyson, what can you tell us about your daddy? What does he do at home?” - Reporter 3

“Uhm…” - Tyson sighed

All of the reporters laughed, finding it so funny that Tyson just pulled something so characteristically me.

“He is just like you!” - Reporter 1

“What do I do at home, Ty?” - Joe

“Kiss Mommy.” - Tyson giggled

I immediately groaned and covered my face with my hand. Tyson kept on laughing, and so were the reporters.

“I’m getting exposed right now.” - Joe

“We, Uhm, pway foot…ball.” - Tyson

“We do.” - Joe nodded

“That’s it.” - Tyson blabbered

The room laughed once again till a reporter spoke up.

“So all he does is kiss your mom and play football?” - Reporter 3

“Mhm!” - Tyson

“Pretty accurate, not gonna lie.” - Joe

“Joe, you're pretty smitten with your wife, yeah?” - Reporter 5

“Have been since high school. She’s the best though. The best mom, wife, best friend… and so much more. She keeps me grounded. I know I usually keep my personal life separate from football, but I love her more than anything.” - Joe

“More than football?” - Reporter 2

“More than anything.” - Joe reiterated

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Authors note: though Joe would never do this, let's just imagine he would.

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals

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veryberryjelly · 3 months

Note

If it’s still open, “feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there ^ trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so” with Luke castellan? I think it was form the bedtime prompt list

luke castellan x fem!reader

prompts : feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there. trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so.

im not sure if there are phones in camp but there is for this

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝟏𝐊 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

this feeling wasnt new, but it was rare and unwelcome.

living at camp half blood meant you were surrounded by people all day every day, from other counsellors to the people in your cabin.

but even surrounded by other people, you could feel like the only person left on the planet.

it was awful. in a room surrounded by people you would call your friends, you felt more lonely than you could ever recall feeling when you were on your own.

you couldnt stop yourself from reaching for your phone and dialling luke's number.

you hoped he had his phone on silent so you wouldn't wake the entire cabin.

every ring on your end felt like someone yelling at you that there was no one there.

until you heard luke's voice on the other end of the line.

" hello ?" his voice was groggy and tired. suddenly you felt a lot worse and a lot better all at once.

the overall confusion going on in your head sent a wave of tears down your face.

you held your phone to your chest for a moment, trying to collect yourself before you spoke. before you had the chance to, you heard lukes voice again, this time a bit clearer.

" hey, baby, is everything okay ?"

" no, not really..." you replied, keeping your voice low, albeit wobbly.

" okay, grab a sweater, i'm coming to get you and we'll go for a walk " you could hear him rustling around in his own cabin over the phone followed by the noise of him opening his cabin door.

it caused a soft smile to twitch momentarily at your lips followed by another stream of tears.

you weren't going to deny him so you muttered a soft ' okay ' and hung up, reaching under your bed to grab a sweater and slide on a pair of shoes.

by the time you had done that you heard a shuffling outside the cabin door and you knew it was luke.

you were quiet as you walked through the cabin, carefully opening the door to one of your favourite sights.

he was simply standing against the pillar attached to your cabin dressed in his pyjama pants and a soft pullover sweater that you wanted to drown in.

you took less than two seconds to close the gap between the two of you and wrap your arms around his torso, burying your head in his chest as his arms encircled you.

the comfort of that simple action had your shoulders shaking with sobs.

" oh, baby. " he said quietly against your head as he pressed kisses to the top of your head.

he didnt move, didnt push you to stop crying, just stood there and held you until the tears slowed and you pulled back to get some air.

you pulled your arms back to wipe at your soaked cheeks and take a couple of deep breaths.

his hands lifted to smooth your hair down and brush it from your face.

" you want to tell me what's going on ?" he questioned, his hands cupping your cheeks.

" just felt really lonely, needed to know you were still here " you replied, lifting your hands to grasp at his wrists, his pulse pumping softly against your fingertips.

" i'm still here, baby...i'm always gonna be here for you " he spoke quietly, pressing a kiss onto your forehead .

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

matching injuries, matching fits

part 2 of acl tear #2 acl couple #4

surgery day for reader!

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it's that the surgery was outpatient. You hated hospitals, so at least you wouldn't be stuck in one for any longer than necessary.

Accompanying Leah for her surgery just a few months ago didn't help settle your nerves. You remembered more than she did how much pain she'd been in, and it scared the hell out of you. Leah had handled her surgery so well though; she never complained. She was frustrated, sure, but Leah was good at handling pain.

Your relationship was so new, and you didn't want to seem like a baby, so you tried to hide how nervous you were going into it. Apparently you weren't doing a very good job.

"Are you nervous, darling?" Leah asked, looking over at you from the driver's seat. You just shrugged in response, continuing to bounce your good knee up and down rapidly. She reached across the center console, intertwining her fingers with yours. You sent her a weak smile, and she returned it, much more enthusiastically. You remained silent all the way to the hospital, and through the prep. Leah was growing more concerned, watching you grow paler and paler as the clock ticked by. You were so in your head, she could practically hear you thinking.

"Hey, love," she said, gaining your attention. "It's gonna be fine, okay? They do this every day, and I'm gonna be right here when you come out, alright?"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry," you said, blinking back tears. She stood from the chair she was sitting in, walking over to the bed you were laying in. She leaned down, blonde hair falling into your face, wrapping you in a tight hug, as best she could from her position. You hugged her back tightly, burying your face in her sweatshirt, the feel of it on your face making you feel better.

Leah had come home yesterday with a new matching pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt for you, calling it your "comfy surgery outfit." You'd teased her for it, but appreciated her thoughtfulness. You'd really teased her this morning when she appeared out of the closet wearing the exact same outfit. Leah was adamant that matching with her would make you feel better.

Leah stayed hugging you for longer than was probably comfortable, before pulling back, hearing the nurses come into the room. You looked up at her nervously, realizing it was time. She gave you an encouraging smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then your lips, before whispering an I love you against your mouth. You really smiled up at her then, whispering the words back. Leah watched as they wheeled you off, more nervous than she'd been for her own surgery.

-----

When you blinked awake, the bright lights of the room immediately assaulted your eyes, and you closed them again, sleepier than you'd ever been in your life.

"Hey baby," a voice whispered from right next to you. Cracking one eye open, you saw Leah looking at you, sitting in a chair next to the bed, holding your hand tightly in hers.

"Leee" you said happily, puckering your lips for a kiss. Leah. Man you loved her. She was so pretty, so perfect.

"Hi love," she said, laughing, before kissing you sweetly. "How are you feeling?"

"So good. They gave me a whole new knee!" You said, grinning. Leah laughed again, quite amused at your state. Suddenly though, the smile dropped from your lips, and you looked at her critically.

"Leah," you started seriously, although you were still slurring your words slightly, "you should get bangs."

Leah burst out laughing, not expecting that at all. Her laughter was cut short, though, when you looked at her in horror, your face flushing red. She watched, as if you were in slow motion, as your bottom lip jutted out, and your eyes filled with tears, like a cartoon character. She'd laughed at you!

"No, baby," she tried, but you were already crying. She was having to work even harder not to laugh at how fast your mood had changed, as you cried into your hands. "Don't cry, I thought you were kidding,"

"No! You hate my idea," you wailed, and Leah's hands fluttered uselessly over you, trying to figure out how to stop your tears.

"Woah, what'd you do, break up with her?" came a voice from the doorway, and Leah turned to see Viv and Beth walking in, looking amused. Leah scowled, but turned her attention back to you.

"I'll get bangs if you want, my girl, anything you want," she said, pleading with you. Your tears stopped comically fast.

"Really?" you asked hopefully.

"Yes, baby, seriously," Leah replied, fully convinced you'd laugh at the idea with her when you weren't high anymore.

"Bangs?" Beth asked, as her and Viv took seats on the other side of your bed, looking at Leah with a smirk.

"Wouldn't she look so good with them?!" you replied, staring intently at your teammates. Viv's poker face was much better than Beth's, and Leah glared at the blonde, not wanting you to start crying again. Viv elbowed Beth.

'Yes, so good! She'd really rock a fringe." Beth said enthusiastically, and you smiled, not aware you were being teased. Now Leah was glaring for a different reason, but at least you seemed content. You all chatted for a little while longer, until you got the go ahead from the doctor to leave.

Leah got you changed back into your matching outfit, and when Beth and Viv reentered the room, they were once again fighting fits of laughter.

"Leah picked them out, she wanted to match," you told them, and Leah blushed furiously, having not thought ahead to your friends seeing your matching outfits.

"That red really brings out the color in your cheeks Williamson," Viv joked, referencing Leah's deep blush, and the crimson clothes she had on, because what color was Leah going to get you guys, blue?

Grumbling slightly, Leah helped you into the wheelchair, and the four of you set off to the car. Beth and Viv helped get you in, before they headed to their own car, promising to stop by with dinner later. Leah gave them both hugs before getting in the car, quietly thanking them for their support.

Since they'd found out about your guys' relationship Beth and Viv had been interested to watch the change they'd noticed in Leah. She was normally a serious person, but she was serious with you in a different way. She looked at you so intensely, and they didn't know how'd they'd missed that the 2 of you were together; the look on her face when her gaze met yours was one of someone fiercely in love. Leah wasn't normally one to express her thanks in such a forward, vocal way, but when it came to you, it seemed like all bets were off. They smiled to themselves as they walked back to the car, watching out of the corner of their eyes as Leah fussed over your seatbelt.

-----

Leah got you home and into bed with little drama, and no more tears. You were sleepy again, and she made sure you were asleep comfortably before heading downstairs to obsess over the post op instructions she'd gotten. Even though they were the same as hers, and she probably could have written them, she still read every page, back to front, not willing to risk anything.

When she went to check on you around 45 minutes later, bringing with her an ice pack to replace the one that would be warm by now, she found you in a decidedly less comfortable, and less happy, state than she'd left you. You were still laying in bed, but your face was screwed up in pain, and there were tears leaking out of your eyes. You were staring at your knee, which was propped up in front of you, glaring at it. Leah hadn't been expecting the pain to hit so soon, but clearly, it was.

"Oh, baby, why didn't you call for me?" she asked, having left you with strict instructions to tell her when you woke up. She sat on the edge of the bed, using her sleeve to gently wipe the tears off your face.

"Didn't wanna bother you," you mumbled, and Leah looked at you, confused. You seemed more out of it than you had been before, and she figured you were just still loopy.

"You could never bother me, pretty girl," Leah said, watching as your lips turned up into a watery smile. "You can't have anymore pain medicine yet, but I can brought you some ice," she said, carefully unwrapping the ice wrap from around your knee and replacing it.

"Thanks," you said softly, still looking slightly teary.

"What else can I do, love?" She asked, hating to see you so upset.

You thought for a moment, eyes fluttering open and shut as you fought sleep again. "Hold me Lee?" you asked quietly. Leah recognized the vulnerability in your voice, and nodded softly. She climbed into bed next to you, ever so carefully, shifting to allow you to lean back against her. You settled your head on her shoulder, tucking your nose into her neck.

"Goodnight," you said drowsily, snuggling closer to the blonde. She smiled down at you, not thinking it important to let you know that it only mid afternoon.

"Goodnight, baby," she responded, kissing the side of your head gently.

You drifted off, the pain in your knee somehow dulled by the beautiful girl next to you.

-----

part 3? if yes please give me ideas

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #beth mead #vivianne miedema

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withleeknow · 4 months

Text

wishful thinking. (02)

chapter two: in plain sight

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you

boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House

You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.

True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.

You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.

Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.

Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.

Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.

When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied.

You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.

“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.

“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.

He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.

“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”

“Is my attention not enough for you?”

You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.

He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”

The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.

The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.

You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.

“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”

“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”

You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”

“You look that good to come to my party?”

You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.

“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”

“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”

You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.

“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”

You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.

“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”

“Stop lying. It’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”

Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”

After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”

“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”

Your favorite.

You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.

“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.

“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.

“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”

“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”

“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”

You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.

One for you, one for him.

One part rum, two and a half parts coke.

“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”

“You’re loud too.”

“My brand of loud is different.”

“Is it?”

He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”

When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.

“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”

Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.

“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”

“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.

Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.

And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.

Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”

He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes.

“And what if I am?”

There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.

Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.

“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”

He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”

There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.

Again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.

You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”

“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.

“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.

“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”

“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”

You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).

Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.

It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.

The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.

“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately.

“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”

“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”

“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”

“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”

“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”

“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”

“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”

“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”

“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”

Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”

Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.

Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.

His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”

“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods.

“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly.

“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”

“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”

Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.

Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”

“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.

“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”

“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”

“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Hyunjin, I swear to-”

“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.

Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.

Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.

Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.

But you decided to make an exception for tonight.

Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.

You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield.

You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.

Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.

“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”

He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.

He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.

“Better?” he asks.

You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.

“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”

“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”

You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”

“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”

“What card?”

“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”

You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”

This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.

“How violent,” you comment with a snort.

“He deserves it.”

“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.

“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.

“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”

He grins. “Could you blame me?”

Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.

The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.

“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”

For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?

He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.

You want him to kiss you too. You really do.

“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.

“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”

He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.

The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.

The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.

You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.

He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.

You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.

He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.

As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.

“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.

“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”

“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”

“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”

Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”

“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”

“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.

“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.

Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”

455 notes · View notes

spacedace · 5 months

Text

Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.

This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha

---

Well.

Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.

Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.

Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.

She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.

She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.

Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.

It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.

So.

Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.

That was a thing.

A weird thing with some big implications.

D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.

But it was still something.

She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.

“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”

Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.

“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.

It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.

Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.

Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?

He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.

—

Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.

Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.

She was scared now.

Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.

Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.

“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.

“Silence.”

Jon felt cold.

Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.

“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”

Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.

Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”

Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.

“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.

It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.

Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.

“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”

Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.

Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.

Elle was crying now.

He felt sick.

“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”

The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.

Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.

Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.

It was all wrong.

It was all perfectly fine.

The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”

Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.

Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.

Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.

Everything was perfectly normal.

D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.

He couldn’t remember why he was there.

Everything was fine.

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 1 year

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(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)

(*) = Me building off of other ideas

TW: mentions of animal death

← previous

✦

After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.

The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.

Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.

People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.

To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.

Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.

It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.

✦

I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!

Notes:

(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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Halcyon days

Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)

Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1

Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word count: ~3K

A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊

You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.

“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”

“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.

“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”

Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.

“Sure you can.”

Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.

“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”

“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”

“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”

You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.

“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”

“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.

“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”

You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.

For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.

But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.

“Why’re you staring?”

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.

“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”

He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.

“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”

“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.

Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”

Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.

“On my cheek, you say?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.

“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”

It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.

After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.

Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.

Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.

Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.

“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.

“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”

“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”

“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.

“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“Not until–”

He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.

“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”

He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.

“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.

“I could say the same about you.”

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.

The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.

You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”

“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”

“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”

“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”

He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”

“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”

“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”

He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.

*****

You didn’t plan on falling asleep.

Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…

But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.

“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”

Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”

You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”

She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.

“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.

“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”

She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.

“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”

“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”

You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.

“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”

He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.

“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.

His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.

“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”

Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”

“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”

“No.”

“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.

“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”

“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.

“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”

“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.

And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.

“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”

“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”

While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.

“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”

You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.

He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.

He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #because i cant write a fic without her in it #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #pedro pascal #beary writes

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melminli · 6 months

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phone time

summery - you and satoru have been together for a long time now, like really long. next week marks your nine year anniversary, actually, and your friends think that it's a bit weird that you two are not doing anything special on that day.

contains: fem reader, fluff/crack, utahime being in your business, gossip, meimei hate, suggestive joke at the end

"we were thinking about going shopping with mei mei this weekend, you want to come with us?" utahime asked you as you stepped into the living room after leaving the kitchen. it took you a second to answer her, as your attention was focused on the tray in your hands. you really didn't want to risk one of the three cups of hot coffee spilling over and doing a mess. as well as getting a third-degree burn.

when the tray finally touched the small table, you got around to answering. "i don't know. i've been spending too much money lately." you admitted, making yourself comfortable on the soft carpet. sitting across from the sofa also helped the conversation flow more smoothly. "i would still come just to hang out with you guys, but you know i don't like meimei that much..."

shoko was about to add something when gojo interrupted her. "you can just take my card, you know. and meimei isn't much of a talker anyway. you should go if you feel like it." he suggested from his position on the pastel pink armchair. "you can also go to starbucks together. they should have pumpkin space latte on the menu again now that it's fall."

you thought about the proposal once more at his argument while holding your cup in your hands. the girls on the other side sent disgusted looks to the man. even though he spoke in their favor, they weren't really interested in hearing his input. "and why are you still here? i thought you told your crusty boyfriend to leave for a few hours." utahime complained to you.

"and i did." you replied and sensed the mean looks he gave you when you didn't correct her after she described him as crusty. you just shook your head to signal him that she didn't know what she was talking about. "weren't you gonna meet up with suguru?" you asked him, looking in his direction.

i can't believe i'm getting kicked out of my own place. he leaned a little deeper in his seat at that thought, but didn't really mind since it was you who asked him to. he wasn't really authorized to participate in girl talk and was, to be honest, a bit butt hurt about it. he would do anything to participate in a session. "we are. that asshole is running late, so i would be very grateful if you ladies could show me some mercy and let me wait inside since it's like two degrees outside."

you raised an eyebrow at his wording and spoke up with a grin after taking a sip. "what's the matter, elsa? can't handle the cold?"

satoru just rolled his eyes. "i can't wait until it starts snowing. doesn't it ever get boring? making the same jokes over and over again."

you pretended to give his question serious thought until you finally answered. "no, not really."

utahime watched the interaction between you with a furrowed brow. "i can't believe you two are a couple." she finally said, abruptly changing the subject. "you just don't act coupley at all."

shoko disagreed. "what does that even mean? they've been together for like forever."

it felt a little strange to gojo that she was kind of supportive of your relationship right now. she wasn't really, but it felt that way to him, and he was happy about it and agreed with her. "exactly. that is a heavy accusations you're throwing in the room, that i'm not going to tolerate. i would literally die for my girlfriend, which is like the bare minimum, i know. but still." he spoke in a completely serious voice.

you hummed in support of him. "yeah, i mean men are meant to die in war anyway, so it's good that you know."

there. you guys were doing it again. "that's what i'm talking about. nothing about how you behave with each other is romantic in the slightest way." she said, a little disappointed. "i've also never seen you kiss or heard that you're going on dates. i mean, do you even have anything planned for your anniversary?" she continued to enumerate, getting seriously worried.

you didn't take her worry serious since you did all these things in private. you just preferred it that way. "we live together, and we spend a lot of quality time together. just because we don't call everything a date doesn't mean we never do anything as a couple." you retorted, and satoru supported what you said with adding period. "i've been a little lazy lately due to it getting so cold again, and i don't feel like doing anything extravagant because it just mentally exhausts me on top with work. so we'll probably just chill and have some phone time in the evening." you answered her question about your anniversary. maybe you would get satoru a little gift like flowers. yeah, he liked getting flowers. you mentally made a note to look on the internet for some with a nice meaning.

shoko repeated questioningly. "phone time?" somehow, she imagined it to be something very strange.

"yeah, you know." satoru began, although the two had no idea what you two were talking about. "lying in bed. scrolling on social media - mostly tiktok. showing funny or stupid videos to each other and laughing about it."

you raised an index finger to add. "or cat videos." you reminisced about some silly trends in the past. "i kind of miss dabloon cat..."

so the two are just some sort of ipad kids.

"that's pretty weird, actually. you two are weird." said utahime in conclusion, not knowing what else to say.

you just rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee. "last time i checked, you were single."

a sigh escaped her at the remark. "well, i can't argue against that. my dating life has been drier than a desert lately..."

at that, a slight giggle escaped satoru's lips, reminding you all that he was indeed still present in the room. "you know what's not dry after i - "

"satoru."

"what? just because she doesn't see us kiss doesn't mean that we don't do it."

#female reader #jjk satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fanfic drabble #utahime iori #shoko ieiri #crack fic #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x you #x reader

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backtothefanfiction · 7 months

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Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world.

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare.

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?”

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you.

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you.

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs.

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you.

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin.

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you.

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs.

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.”

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air.

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.”

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged.

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock.

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly.

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again.

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you.

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

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@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #professor!Peter Parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #Andrew Peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #Peter Parker smut #professor!au #spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #andrew garfield peter parker #reader insert #smut #this is so self indulgent #Peter Parker x female reader

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