#but on the other hand this series is gonna be so far removed from the original in who it caters to

[milla-frenchy]

3 hours

3k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: Joel surprises you with a present Warnings: 18+ mdni. PWP. Established relationship, sexting, sex toy, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, spanking, size kink, praise kink, oral (f/m), ball sucking, rimming, ass play, dp, cum play.  No age specified, no outbreak a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for correcting me babyyyyy 💕🫶🫂

series masterlist | masterlist

*****************

“What is it?”

Your eyes lit up when you saw the gift package. It was magnificent. All black, both box and ribbon. You looked up at Joel, who was staring at you with a smile.

“The best way to find out is to open it, isn’t it?”

You pulled on one of the ribbons and lifted the top part of the box, to discover a dildo resting on black satin. The dark pink of the accessory contrasted with all the black. You couldn't take your eyes off it, because of its size. Long, wide and…with a familiar shape.

“You can take it out of the box, it ain’t gonna bite you. Yet.” He didn't hide his amusement when he saw your face. When you picked up the sex toy, you said “oh my god Joel, is this…?”

“A replica, yeah. You've said so many times that you wish I had two cocks, so I could stuff two of your holes at the same time...You're such a good girl for me that you deserve to have what you want. And to take them both.”

You widened your eyes.

“Oh fuck…are you really gonna fuck me with your cock and this…at the same time?” you asked, taking it in your hand and staring at it.

"What is it? My baby’s afraid of taking these two big cocks?” he laughed.

“Well…yeah! I’m worried about my poor pussy and ass and I wonder how they’ll resist this assault.”

“I’m sure they’ll do well. They might be a little sore, though. Ok baby, bedroom, now. I’ve waited all day for this. Time to soak this toy.”

He followed you to the hall, his hands caressing the roundness of your ass on the way through your clothes. He pinned you against the wall on your way to the bedroom, your ass clenched in his hands as he crashed his mouth against yours and searched for your tongue with his. With his body pressed to yours, you felt his hard cock against your pussy, and you were already moaning into his mouth. A few moments later, he grabbed your hand and stopped you again, squeezing your breasts in his hands and licking your neck. Like so many other times before, it took you several minutes to finally cross the threshold of the room. 

Some other days, you didn't even make it to the bedroom, he would fuck you in the hall, against the wall - his jeans pooled around his ankles and your dress bunched up over your hips, your back hitting the wall every time he thrust in you.

But this time he wouldn’t fuck you there. He wanted to watch the dildo sink into you, to see it covered by your wetness while he would be fucking you with it and sucking  on your clit at the same time. Feeling his cock so hard that it would almost be painful. Vainly wishing his precum would flow and slide to the back of your throat or in your pussy, mixing with your wetness. But he wouldn’t let his cock control his will. Tonight, he would take his time, and he would watch your pussy and your ass getting fucked by two of his cocks. 

Once in the bedroom, you placed the sex toy on the bed, and Joel sat in the chair in the corner of the room. It was dark and he turned on the soft light on the bedside table.

“Undress, sweetheart. But keep your heels on.”

You started by unbuttoning your blouse, sliding your hand down your chest before removing the garment.

“Face the mirror, baby”, he said, resting his back against the back of the chair to get comfortable. You were not far from him, offering him the view of your back. You unzipped the seam of your skirt before letting it slide down your thighs, revealing your black panties, which completed the ensemble with your bra. Another gift from Joel. You removed your feet from the skirt, nudging it lightly with your foot, to the side. The large mirror allowed you to see Joel in the reflection. When you unclasped your bra, he bit his lower lip and you smiled. You slid that garment off as well, revealing your breasts. Your nipples were hard from the slight cool air that seeped into the room through the half-open window.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said between deep breaths.

You smiled, feeling warmth reach your cheeks upon hearing him. He had always known how to turn off the fire of your insecurities with his words, the way he touched you and looked at you. You took a deep breath as you hooked your thumbs under the seam of your panties and pulled them down your thighs.

“It would be easier if you leaned forward to remove them, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heated up even more, but you didn’t hesitate. So you kept your legs straight, and you slid the fabric down to your ankles, leaning forward until you offered yourself to his view.

“Wait, stay like this,” he murmured. “Shit, baby…Already killin’ me, and I haven't touched you yet. Spread your ass for me, will you?”

You grabbed your ass cheeks with your hands and offered yourself entirely to his sight. Your pussy was already drooling. A few hours before coming back home, he had been texting you and since then you couldn't stop thinking about the moment he would finally fuck you.

************

Joel: You left before I woke up this morning, sweetheart

What are you wearing?

You: Yeah, you were sleeping so deeply, didn't want to wake you up 

Pastel floral blouse and a black skirt

J: Show me

Y: ?

J: Take a picture, show me

Y: *sends picture*

J: Fuck

These buttons are dying to be ripped off

But your blouse would look even better on the bedroom floor

Y: *sends another picture* 

J: Fuckin’ hell, you naughty girl

In a few hours it will be my hand squeezing your breast while my mouth will be sucking on the other one

Y: Are you hard, Mr Miller?

J: Sure as hell I am. 

*sends picture*

Y: Fuck, Joel. 

[You saw the precum glistening on the tip of his cock sticking out of his pants. The picture made you salivate.]

J: Heading to a meeting in 5 minutes, time to cool off. Three hours, baby

Y: See you later baby🫦

You made yourself cum in the bathroom at work, to release the tension that wouldn't leave your pussy, pursing your lips together, hoping no one would hear your moans.

************

“Stand up, sweetheart. Did you touch yourself at work after seeing my cock?”

“Yes, I did. Of course I did. Wanted it so bad.”

You heard him take a deep breath.

“Take off your shoes and lie down on the bed. And show me how you did it.”

You sat on the bed to take your shoes off, and his gaze was fixed on your breasts pressed against your knees. Then you laid on your back and spread your legs wide, knees slightly bent, easily sliding your middle finger along your wet folds.

“Add a finger baby. This little pussy is dying to get filled.”

Your index finger dove into your pussy, joining your other digit. Eyes fixed on you, Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. The light from the lamp allowed you to see the precum beading. He ran his thumb over it and spread it out, stroking his shaft lazily. Your breathing quickened at the same pace as your fingers.

You heard the movement of his wrist speed up until he suddenly stopped, stood up and took off his T-shirt, then his jeans and boxers. He stopped for a few seconds, naked in front of the bed, and god he was beautiful. Even though you were dying to feel him against you, looking at him stopped time and you were breathless enough to pause the movements of your fingers.

“Are you really looking at me like I'm a piece of meat, baby?”, he laughed.

“I mean, that's a beautiful and appetizing piece of meat, sir…”

“Jesus…you’re such a dork. Just like me.”

You laughed, until he kneeled on the bed and crawled towards you. He laid against you, warming your body with his and you felt his hard cock against your hip. Your nipples were hard, pressed to his torso. You caressed his cheek with your hand, while the other squeezed his bicep. Taking the time to look at him, to see the feelings you had for each other filling the silence of the room. He leaned towards you for a kiss. He was taking his time too. Not like in the hall. He placed small kisses on the corner of your lips, along your cheek and to your neck, then your earlobe that he bit lightly. He was gently rubbing his soft mustache against your skin, before coming back to your mouth and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue was playing with your lips, licking them. Impatient, you let yours escape to come meet his. The two tangled, and your pussy kept drooling. He grabbed your chin in his hand, and said “open, baby.”

You parted your lips, watching him drop his saliva from his mouth, and you swallowed it. Again, his lips were glued to yours. You felt him breathing hard and you couldn't hold it anymore, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your pussy. You used it to release the pressure burning your core, first. But quickly, you let go of his wrist to press his fingers at your entrance.

“Shit, sweetheart, she’s drooling for me, isn’t she?”

“She is, Joel…fuck her with your fingers, please.”

Two of his fingers were inside you, your hand holding his wrist, rubbing against your clit, you fastened your movements, your hips rolling towards him.

“Gonna come baby? Gonna clench around my fingers?”

“Yes, Joel, please…please don’t stop.”

“I won’t baby…of course I won’t. Cum for me”, he murmured, his hand stroking your hair, and his eyes locked with yours. You squeezed his wrist when you came, keeping his fingers buried in your cunt. “Fuck…fuck that’s so good, Joel.”

He kissed your forehead and let his digits in you until your hand released his wrist. He reached down to grab the dildo.

“The next time you’ll cum, it’ll be on this. And then you’ll suck it. Wanna see your face up close, while you are sucking my second cock.”

You nodded, letting him use you however he wanted. He positioned the sex toy at your entrance, and quickly slid it in. You were so wet that he bottomed out in one go, making you moan as you felt your folds let it in. You were missing the warmth of his cock, but the spreading sensations were the same.

“Damn Joel…it really feels like your cock.”

He smiled before caressing one of your breasts and taking the second one into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl over it. He parted from you just long enough to say “told you I’d take care of your tits.”

He kept fucking you with the dildo, his mouth on the nipple, as you were stroking his brown curls. You already felt the heat flood your lower stomach again. He left it buried inside you while placing kisses on your breasts, your stomach, all the way to your crotch. He looked at you as his mouth landed on your clit and started sucking on it, pumping the dildo in and out of your pussy again. His hand clenched tightly on it, filling your core and sucking your clit at the same time, making you dig your nails into his scalp. You bent your knees further, as if you wanted him to push it deeper, and allowing him to devour you more.

“Fuck, fuck…Joel. I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, oh my god.”

When you came he left his tongue against your clit to feel your trembling, just regretted not feeling you squeeze his cock. His little licks on your clit overstimulated you but he didn't let you pull his mouth away from you, grunting until you finished cumming.

He carefully removed the dildo, adding “soaked, exactly how I wanted it.”

He brought it to your mouth, pushing the tip in lightly. He wanted to see you play with your tongue while he watched you.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he asked next.

He stood up facing you, the sex toy and his cock in front of your mouth. His tip was reddened and covered in precum. You licked then sucked both of them in turn, looking up at him.

“Fuckin’ hell. Suckin’ these two cocks like a pro.”

His praise turned you on and all you could think about was the moment he would fuck you with both. He moved the dildo aside and took his cock in hand, holding it against his stomach, jerking himself gently, and presenting his balls to you.

“Suck my balls baby. Yeah, just like that…damn you do it good. Fuck yeah, right here…right here.”

You applied yourself, sometimes sliding your tongue as close as possible to his scrotum, just the way he liked it.

“Alright, baby. Shit you're gonna make me cum, sucking my balls like that. On all fours now.”

You waited for him, ass in the air, as he was taking the lube from the nightstand.

“Fuck sweetheart, I could cum just by seeing you offering me your holes like that.”

He knelt down, spreading your ass cheeks wide with his hands, and pushed his tongue into your pussy, his nose resting against your ass. He devoured your pussy and the overstimulation made you squirm, your body trying to escape his grip despite you. But he held your hips tightly and had no intention of letting you go. He then slid his tongue up to your ass, the tip of it playing with your tight muscle, softening it more and more. When he grabbed the sex toy and pushed it into your pussy, you bit your hand to prevent you from losing your mind. He continued relaxing your ass, while fucking you with the dildo and you wondered if you were going to cum again without him even touching your clit.

He stood up, cutting your inner questioning short, placing a hand on your hip and said “gonna fuck this little pussy first…she'd be mad at me if I only take care of your ass, wouldn't she?”

He slid his shaft against your folds to cover it with your wetness, thrust in and bottomed out, and your response got stuck in your throat, your forehead resting against the gray sheets. You felt his saliva reach your ass, and his thumb pushed it into your tight ring.

“Fuck, sweet baby girl…I’m gonna ruin you and make you scream on these cocks.”

You already had tears in your eyes from the pleasure you felt. Without stopping thrusting into you, he took the lube and applied some to your ass. He spread your buttocks then your ring with his hands, before spitting on it again then reapplying lube, still thrusting in.

“Damn baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Somehow I hope you won’t even remember my name.”

And you actually thought that it was possible. He thrust in faster and harder, as if he was having a hard time resigning himself to leaving your pussy.

“Shit…ok, baby. Time to share you with my second cock.”

He pulled out and applied lube on his cock, before pushing the dildo into your pussy in one go, moving it in and out, then held it all the way in. He pressed his cock against your ring, and you held your breath. His tip buried itself in your ass. “Fuck”, you whimpered, when the whole crown thrust in and he stopped there. You were leaning on your forearms, face in the sheets. You heard Joel breathing heavily, trying to calm down.

“My baby’s such a slut. Letting me use all her holes like a damn whore.”

He pulled out before shoving half of his cock in. “Fuck, fuck Joel, too much!”

“What’s the safe word, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, it’s… it's “arrow.”

“Ok. If you want me to stop, you say it and I’ll stop. But if you don’t, you’re gonna keep takin’ it. So, do you have something to tell me?”

You shook your head no, and he thrust in slowly until his balls slapped your pussy.

“Fuck, Joel!!!”

“I know baby, I know. It’s too much, isn’t it? Couldn’t help it, now that I know you just want to take it. That your slutty moans are only there to turn me on even more, aren’t they baby? And that's perfect, ‘cause I love fucking your ass. ”

He pulled back before thrusting in again, clamming your second hole as your pussy was filled by the dildo.

“Fuck…your ass is so fuckin’ tight…can feel the sex toy filling your pussy, fuck…”

He tightened his grip on the sex toy, and fucked both of your holes at the same time. Stuffing them. And you felt full.

“Look at you, taking these two fat cocks, damn.”

Your tears were now falling onto the pillow, in a mixture of pain and pleasure. You were letting him use you and you wanted nothing else in the world. 

“Gonna fuck you rough now, baby. Ya ready?”

You nodded, unable to speak.

“Damn, can’t speak anymore, I already ruined you. I thought you weren’t fragile, Mrs Miller?”

“F…fuck…Joel…I’m…I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you. I’m…fuck. I’m not fragile. I’m just…having a moment”, and you managed to laugh weakly.

“You'll kill me when I'm done fucking this ass”, he smiled and spanked you. His grunts made you lose your mind as he was fucking your holes mercilessly, finally making you scream.

“Shit, shit, gonna come baby. Oh fuck. Fuck! Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill that tight ass.”

He froze when his cum spurted into your ass, but kept fucking you slower with the dildo, groaning about how good you were for him, how much he loved to fuck you. Then he withdrew from both of your holes, spreading your ass to see his cum, pushing in the drops that were beading at the entrance with his finger. 

He turned you on your back, and pushed two fingers into your pussy, his mouth resting on your clit to make you cum one last time. Your hands held his head against you, your hips lifting into him as you finished cumming in his mouth and on his fingers.

He kissed you, rolled on his back and said “happy birthday sweetheart”, smiling, and wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

**********

Same couple: 5 days collection

****************

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[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Right

SUMMARY: The aftermath of the events that occurred at Hyunjin's apartment begins to unravel and sprout into things that are unsuspecting of Hyunjin and Jisung. While Jisung is under the disturbance of a text message he sent to Chan from your phone, he decides to turn to his friends to spill the beans.

TAGS: porn with plot, solo male masturbation, ruined orgasm, swearing, handjobs, soft moments, depictions of sexual intercourse, kissing, cum eating, orgasms, mainly m x m themes, alcohol is consumed (but nobody is drunk)

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

PART 1 + PART 2 - MASTERLIST

🏷️LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @groovygroovyhyunjin @valibals @oiikaro @/itsthatbri @leftkittenface @/20minsat180degrees (if you want to be removed from the taglist going forward with this series, lmk!)

A/N: listened to Cigarettes out the window by TV Girl when I wrote most of this.

DISCLAIMER: before you read, this is a series so things are building up. There is a plot, so whilst this isn’t reader x member heavy based as the rest of the parts so far, that doesn’t mean to say that it won’t be in the future. Reader and Chan will get their time, don't worry, just want things to develop. This piece is more Jisung and Hyunjin focused iykwim x 

-

“The weather forecast for the upcoming week is predicted to be hotter than usual-“

“Ngh- fuck, right there...”

“-with temperatures expected to rise above thirty degrees. Weather Watch is also alerting citizens-“

“S-So good, baby…Y/N…”

“-in the city to prepare for the possibility of yet another monsoon-“

“Gonna…cum, gonna cum so hard for you…just like that…”

“-other regions of the outer city should also expect showers and hot temperatures-“ 

“Fuck’s sake!” 

With an angry groan and grumble, Hyunjin’s right hand stills over his slick, hard cock. His other hand yanks a pillow from his side and pelts it straight at his door to slam it right shut. Pathetic white strings of cum shot from his dark pink tip and land on his abdomen, some as far as his shirt that he had pulled up to his chest to avoid staining it. 

It’s been impossible for him to jerk off while the six o’clock weather is playing in the background from his lounge. The talk of monsoons and hot weather threatens the disappearance of the mental images he has of you in his brain, used as vital motivation to get himself off - a recurring activity that has been happening for the past two weeks. 

Summer doesn’t make it any better either. His body is sticky, sweat beading over his forehead from the disgusting, muggy heat that rivals the air con blowing throughout his apartment. Then the rain that lashes harshly at his windows is enough to drown out his own moans. It was a useless feat, just as useless as his own ruined orgasm that now put him in a bad mood. He had to satisfy his needs somehow. 

Instead of turning to porn, Hyunjin had something even better; you. The vivid images of his cock plunging fluidly into your wet pussy. The erotic sounds he extracted out of you with each thrust, that is when you weren’t choking on Jisung’s dick. He just wishes he could’ve seen your face when he made you cum.

Hyunjin sighs and presses his head back into the pillow. Before he gets to think about jumping in the shower, his phone rings from the nightstand. He picks up the device to see a very flattering drunk photo of Changbin appear on his screen. 

Hyunjin answers, “hey.” 

“Hyunjin, what are you doing right now?” Changbin asks.

“Watching the news,” he sniffs, he might as well have been watching the news.

“Boring. Did you not see the group chat messages?” 

“No, not yet. Why is something wrong?” 

“No, nothings wrong. Minho booked a table for hot pot and barbecue tonight. Figured you weren’t doing anything important so we’re all meeting up in half an hour,” Changbin explains. 

Barbecue and hot pot sounded nice. Surely it’ll be a method to dry out Hyunjin’s damp mood a little bit. That and a cold shower to freshen up. 

“Okay, yeah sounds good. Can you text me the details then?” 

As Hyunjin hung up and decided to start getting ready, it dawned on him that he hadn’t seen his friends in a couple of weeks, with a strong reference to you and Jisung. You had both been active in the group chat so he didn’t necessarily feel awkward about seeing the guy he had a threesome with. As for you, he really doesn’t know. 

You’re sweeter and easy to be around. Something about that just turns the entire situation on its head. Not that Jisung isn’t sweet or easy to be around in Hyunjin’s opinion, with you it’s different. Although, as he’s been mulling over the past couple of weeks, he’s discovered a few things about himself and Jisung. 

Dressing according to the weather, Hyunjin takes his umbrella with him on his way out in the hopes the rain won’t continue when he leaves the restaurant later on. After receiving the address from Changbin, thankfully just one subway stop away, Hyunjin heads off into the downfall and arrives fifteen minutes later. 

He was wrong to assume that he wasn’t going to feel awkward around Jisung, and now as he spots him at the table, engaging in a riveting conversation with Jeongin, all he feels is awkwardness. He waves out to him from down the way, ushering him to come over, lulling Hyunjin out of his own mind for a minute. 

“Hyunjin!” Jeongin called out cheerily, patting a spot beside him to come and sit. 

“Already started drinking Innie?” Hyunjin slings his arm around his younger friend's shoulder. 

“I couldn’t wait, sorry,” he responds and pours Hyunjin a shot of his soju. “Long day.” 

“Did you eat before?” 

“Not since lunch,” he replies. 

Hyunjin shakes his head and warns, “Innie, you know it’s bad to drink on an empty stomach, right?” 

Jeongin shrugs, “like I said, long day.” 

Hyunjin picks up his shot glass, downing it in one go before setting the glass back down on the surface again. As he does, his eyes meet Jisung’s who stares intently at him from across the table. He shoots a cheeky wink at Hyunjin, forcing a deep red blush to emerge through his cheeks.

Hyunjin knew what that meant. 

Suddenly his mind races back to that night at his apartment; making out with Jisung, remembering suddenly the thought of what sort of tricks that mouth of his possesses, watching you suck him dry. He wasn’t going to be forgetting it any time soon, not when it fuels his jack off sessions at home. 

After the few lingering moments where the pair were still locking eyes, more of their friends started to show up. Seungmin was accompanied by his new girlfriend, glued to his hip who greeted everyone shyly. Hyunjin hadn’t actually properly met her, let alone talked to her yet, but she seemed nice. Once they had taken a seat on their cushions, Changbin rolled in with Felix and Minho in tow who was stuffing his keys into the pocket of his pants. 

“You guys are here early,” he says with surprise. 

“You were the one who organised it,” Jisung pointed out. 

“That I did,” Minho nods, sitting down with everyone else. 

Felix groans as he flops next to Changbin, “I’m hungry, it's not even funny.”

As everyone settled down, trays of fresh veggies, assortments of meat, and other items were brought to their table for them to cook. Minho decided to get started on grilling while Seungmin opted to bring the hot pot on the table to a boil. The smell of the food made Hyunjin almost forget why he was slightly nervous about going out in the first place.

He got back to talking with Jeongin, asking him how work has been treating him, what he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and even planned a time to hang out in the future. 

“What about you, Jisung?” Jeongin asks with a mouthful of bossam. “Haven’t seen you in ages. Been up to anything interesting these days?” 

Jisung finishes slurping up some of the rice noodles Felix had cooked for him from the hot pot, “here and there. Mainly just working now.”

“Ah,” Jeongin nods in understanding. “You always work so much. No wonder why it’s hard for you to hang out with us sometimes.” 

That’s when it hits Jisung, causing him to pause and realise that something isn’t right. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realise it when it’s right there in plain sight.

“Where is Y/N and Chan?” He questions.

“Mm! Gonna…gonna cum all over your cock, wanna cum for you so bad,” you strain out. “Makes me feel so fucking good.”

Chan looks up at you, a deranged and desperate expression paints his face as you ride his dick, “don’t stop riding me then. Need to see that pretty pussy cum all over me.” 

Minho flips over pieces of meat on the grill, “Chan is out of the city with his family at the moment. They flew in a few days ago.” 

“You’re creaming so much around me baby,” Chan growls, nails digging painfully into the skin over your hips. “This pussy is all mine.” 

“And Y/N’s still at work,” Minho continues, plating some of the veggies he had been charring on the side too.

Moans erupt from your chest, projecting out into Chan’s lounge, “C-Channie, so good, make me cum, please-“

Jisung nods. It’s not suspicious at all to him that neither of you are here. The two people to an unwanted jigsaw puzzle that he had been piecing together just so happened to be ‘missing.’ Of course, none of the other guys truly knew why. At least he doesn’t think. 

Maybe you two really are in separate locations - not that he believes it. The one thing he knows for absolute sure to be the cold, hard truth, is that you and Chan are most definitely seeing each other casually - fucking behind everyone’s backs. Then again, so did he and Hyunjin in some sense.

Nonetheless, for the past couple of weeks, Jisung was storing that message he received on your phone from Chan in the back of his mind. It affirms a glimmer of a suspicion that Jisung held about Chan previously; that he was seeing someone. 

“Well, that just confirms everything then,” Jisung mutters under his breath, concluding his answer there and then in his mind. 

“Confirms what?” Minho questions, his hawk grade hearing picking up on his undertone. 

“Nothing, just a theory that I have,” he says smartly. “I was just thinking about it and...” 

“And what?” Minho presses.

“And whether I should be sharing it or not,” he replies, unsure of his own answer. 

“Well you have to now since you brought it up,” Felix exclaims. 

“It’s nothing,” Jisung brushes it off, making everyone at the table wonder what the hell he’s on about. 

“Nah, it has to be something,” Seungmin shakes his head and begins wondering what it is. “If it wasn’t important, he’d just say it. But he’s not.”

Is it even Jisung’s place to tell everyone? No. Should he still do it? No. But that’s what friends do. They talk and speculate about who they think are the perfect matches in the group or who out of everyone would marry if they had no other option. Topics as such.

In this case, it’s whether you and Chan are sleeping together or not, which Jisung already has the answer to. Whether he decides to tell the truth would just be speculation to the others since they never saw what Jisung did. They can decide to believe it or not.

However, does he trust his friends with the truth and to not say anything? Without a shadow of a doubt. So with that sliver of comfort in his mind that makes him think he’s not doing the wrong thing, Jisung chooses to divulge. 

“Y/N and Chan are fucking.”

Everyone’s heads at the table fixes onto Jisung. Not a single mouth moved out of surprise as the silence threads its way around. It makes him feel terribly awkward.

This is news to everyone, particularly to the person sitting opposite him; Hyunjin. Someone who, upon hearing what just came out of Jisung’s mouth, didn’t believe it for a second - did not want to believe it.

“You’re lying,” Seungmin accuses immediately from the other end of the table. 

“That’s your theory?” Changbin questions. “That Chan and Y/N are together?”

“Not together, together,” Jisung makes haste to correct him. “I just have reason to believe that they’re seeing each other casually is all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seungmin responds, letting his strong opinion be known. “What is that reason anyway?”

“I swear on everyone I know, I saw a text message proving it on her phone,” Jisung mentions before his blood starts running cold. He almost gave away more than he should’ve.

Without context of the night in question, none of them know. Not even Hyunjin, who was a third party to it all, didn’t exactly know. He can only guess if what Jisung is referring to is the dirty text message that was sent off of your phone to Chan during the game of truth or dad. Then again, it’s not a thought that he even remotely considers when his mind has been stuck on the fact that you and Chan are potentially hooking up. 

“What the hell are you going through her phone for?” Felix asks defensively. 

“Yeah, that’s not okay,” Jeongin adds. 

“N-No! I wasn’t going through her phone, I just…saw them, by accident,” he responds out of desperation. 

He doesn’t want to disclose that night to his friends. Sure they’re all mates and share everything with each other, but that’s just Jisung. Hyunjin keeps aspects of his life relatively private and Jisung is sure that you wouldn’t appreciate him going around telling everyone what happened. But at that thought, he starts second guessing himself and what he just did. If he thinks you wouldn’t be okay with him sharing information about that night, how is it any different from him saying the same thing about you and Chan? 

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to feel regret and guilt for ever bringing it up. 

“Even if they are, who cares? Good for them, and if they start going out - even better. Y/N’s a massive upgrade from that chick he was seeing before,” Minho explains. 

“That’s probably why they’re messing around,” Felix theorises. 

“I still don’t reckon they are,” Seungmin puts in his opinion again. 

“Why?” Felix asks. 

“I just don’t see it,” he shrugs. “Chan seems like the type of person who wouldn’t sleep around because he only wants to be with someone that he really, really likes.” 

Those words do not sit well with Hyunjin. 

“And Chan told you that himself, did he?” Minho snickers. “If that’s your reasoning, then it sounds like they’re already going out.” 

Hyunjin and Jisung’s eyes immediately lock onto each other in horror. 

“I don’t know if you heard the word ‘seems’ in my sentence, implying that I’m only guessing but okay,” Seungmin bites back, earning him a finger flick to his arm by Jeongin for talking back like that to their older friend. 

“Ten bucks that they are,” Minho says on a different topic. “Ten bucks that they aren’t,” Seungmin counters. 

“A-Are you saying that none of you believe me?” Jisung whines. 

“We’re saying that we don’t have enough evidence – any of us, not just you since you bought up the topic,” Minho replies. 

“What about tonight? Neither of them are here, where do you think they might be?” Jisung attempts to raise a good point, but Changbin spots the obvious loopholes. 

“We already told you. Chan isn’t even in the city since he’s spending time with his family, and Y/N’s still at work,” he answers. “And we know that because Chan messaged the group chat to tell us that he wasn’t going to be coming to dinner and we know Y/N doesn’t finish until six thirty.”

“They could be lying,” Jeongin conspires. 

“That’s only for tonight though. I know he’s been acting shady lately so I reckon he is,” Felix announces. 

“Hyunjin?” Changbin pokes him in the arm, trying to prod an answer out of him. 

He responds quietly but honestly, “I-I don’t think they are.” 

“That settles it then,” Minho begins instigating once more. “Two of you bet that they aren’t and the rest of us bet that they are.”

“We are not betting on our friends right now,” Jisung tries to calm the masses. 

“Mm! How about losers have to pay for a day of food when we go to Jeju?” Jeongin suggests. 

The majority of the table begins to erupt in agreement, making it impossible for Jisung to rewrite something he just initiated. Everyone immediately starts talking details about what food they would request if they won the bet, then would eventually return to the topic of you and Chan. 

Hyunjin didn’t really want to hear another word of it. Instead, he pours himself another shot of Jeongin’s soju in the hopes his thoughts about the situation start to melt. Until he gets to that stage, it’s easy for him to wallow in his feelings. A selfish part of him wants whatever connection there is between you and Chan to falter to the point of no return. Then the other half scolds his mind for wishing such a misfortune on his friend.

But nobody knew. Nobody knew that Hyunjin had feelings for you nor did he want anyone to know. He’d rather die than tell someone he likes them for fear that they won’t like him the way he does. It’s almost like he’s saving himself from the pain and hopes that it’ll pass. However, there was also ‘instigator number two’ sitting across from him who had been making regular appearances in his brain since that night. Hyunjin doesn’t know what it means, if it even means anything for that matter.

So by the end of the dinner, everyone had their bets placed. 

The whole lot of them lingered outside the restaurant after some filling meals as some of the others waited for their rides back home. All aside from Felix and Jeongin who decided to go bar hopping for more drinks. Changbin and Seungmin were laughing away at something they were discussing while Minho was chatting to his friend's new girlfriend. Hyunjin on the other hand stood away from them, up against the wall of the building as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone. 

“Hey,” says Jisung, emerging from the restaurant. 

Hyunjin turns to his friend, realising it’s the first time they’ve directly spoken to each other in a while, “hi.” 

“You know it feels like I haven’t seen you since-“

“That’s because you haven’t, Jisung,” he cuts him off sharply, having already foreseen what Jisung was about to say after the word ‘since.’ 

He smiles sheepishly, “right. So, what are your plans now?”

Hyunjin doesn’t think and shrugs, “gonna go home, paint, watch TV or something.”

“Cool. I’m coming with you.” 

Hyunjin didn’t have any say in the matter. Jisung was going to follow him home like his own shadow whether he liked it or not. It dismissed Hyunjin from grovelling in his feelings and mind after hearing the situation between you and Chan. One half of his heart yearned to cry while the other wanted to punch Chan in the ribs. He doesn’t know. He’s conflicted. But they are aspects that remain undetected to Jisung as they sat next to each other quietly on the subway back to his home. 

The pair walked under Hyunjin’s umbrella for a few hundred metres until they were under the shelter of the apartment complex. He doesn’t mind accommodating people at his place since he spends the majority of his time in voluntary solitude. It allows him to fully recuperate from social settings in order to go out again. This time, with less company, it’s still equally welcoming. So after Hyunjin unlocks his front door for both of them enter, take off their shoes, and store them neatly. 

“Ah~” Jisung sighs with relief, stretching out his arms and stands right underneath a device mounted to the top of the wall. “Air con!” 

“Don’t you have one? I thought you did,” Hyunjin mistakenly thought. 

“It broke,” he mumbles, revelling in the cold artificial breeze. “Been waiting three weeks for it to be fixed.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything after that. He lets Jisung do whatever he wants while he heads into his room to change from his clothes to a black tank top and a pair of shorts. In his spare room that he’s been slowly transitioning to an art space, he goes in and collects some of his unfinished art, paints, and brushes. After, he returns to the lounge, he sets everything down on the coffee table and pulls up some floor cushions for him and Jisung to sit on. 

“Oh, tangerines,” he suddenly remembers as his eyes clock onto the silver fruit bowl on his kitchen counter while Jisung takes his jacket off and hangs it up. 

“Tangerines? In summer?” Jisung asks as he goes to sit down. 

Hyunjin places the bowl of the fruit between him and his friend as he lowers down too, “why not? I got them fresh from the market the other day.”

“I can only eat them in the winter.”

“Alright then,” Hyunjin shrugs and starts peeling one for himself as Jisung reaches for the remote and turns on the TV. 

For a while, they sit together. Hyunjin switches between picking up his paintbrush and pieces of fruit whereas Jisung’s eyes are glued to some hot drama playing across the screen. It’s nice to just be in the same room with someone and to not have a full on conversation that ends up being draining on their social batteries. Both of them are the perfect introverts for thriving in those types of environments. A peaceful comfort.

Time seems to pass in their space as Jisung nears the end of the episode and Hyunjin is rounding off one area of his painting. By that time, Hyunjin had eaten five tangerines then opted to bring some more. He offered to Jisung if he wanted something else to eat or drink, but the man was so hooked on this drama that he didn't even hear Hyunjin ask.

He found it…slightly…endearing. Just a bit. But then he went back to his work and all was forgotten until Jisung finally started speaking again.

“Hyunjin,” he starts in a low voice, still staring at the screen. 

“Hmm?” 

“Are we gonna talk about the other night?” Jisung mentions.

His hand freezes over his canvas, a small dollop of paint drips from the end of his brush and onto his work. Hyunjin wasn’t exactly expecting to hear that question, yet at the same time, he should’ve seen it coming. 

“W-What about it?” He responds awkwardly. 

Jisung leans back, both of his hands propping him up from behind as he looks up to the ceiling, “the fact that we kissed, well… made out mainly.” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, unsure of what to actually ask him here. “Do you…regret it?”

“No! No way!” Jisung exclaims rather quickly before he calms down. “No, I don’t. In fact…it was…actually really good.” 

In the back of Hyunjin’s mind, he can almost predict what’s about to happen. Jisung wouldn’t have brought up the subject unless it was really affecting him - unless he was dying to get it off his chest. Otherwise he would’ve let it simmer down, but taking into account that it had been two weeks and he wants to unpack everything, there was clearly something irking him in a way that only Hyunjin seems to understand. 

“You looked…good that night,” he adds then corrects himself. “You do look good.” 

Hyunjin peers up from his work. What’s he supposed to say to that? Is he supposed to divulge the fact that he thinks the same of Jisung? He doesn’t even know entirely what he feels, having just accepted that he slept with his two friends and sort of went on with life.

“What did you follow me back to my apartment for?” Hyunjin gets straight to the point. 

His friend sits back up and looks him dead in the eye, “let’s just say I didn’t follow you back to eat some fruit and watch TV.”

“Then what?” Hyunjin urges impatiently even though his and Jisung’s faces slowly draw towards each other.

Jisung’s eyes drop down to Hyunjin’s lips, and says in a quiet voice, “because I wanted to kiss you again.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t know when, but it happened. One second he had his gaze set on Jisung’s soft expression and the next his eyes were closed, allowing his brain to focus on what’s physically happening. Their lips meet for the second time since the first, this time a little slower and tender.

As the TV plays in the background, all the two of them can hear is the sound of their mouths moving - breaking apart for a couple of moments even though their noses still touch, tilting their heads in different directions to see what’s the better angle. 

The sweet, citrine aftertaste of tangerine lingers in Hyunjin’s mouth, a pleasure to savour when Jisung is able to explore it with his tongue. In Hyunjin’s left hand, the paintbrush slips from his grip, its tip smearing more paint onto his work. But there is a great distance between him and being bothered about it. He worries more about the reaction, that after minutes of kissing, stirs in his pants when Jisung’s hand finds its way onto his lap, barely caressing his thigh. His cock has started filling out. 

He doesn’t notice it until slowly yet surely, Jisung’s hand inches closer to the ever growing, obvious bulge in his friend's shorts. The second he makes contact with Hyunjin’s clothed dick, a moan shoots through from his mouth and into Jisung’s. He pulls away for a second, staring at his lips.  

“You really are a good kisser,” Jisung breathes. 

“Jisung…” Hyunjin struggles, his forehead comes to rest against Jisung’s as he stares down at his hand. It palms slowly, agonisingly slow. 

“You’re so hard for-“

He cups Jisung’s mouth before he can complete the rest of his sentence, “shut up, I know,” he cuts him off bitterly. 

A chuckle reverberates through his hand as Jisung takes it away but decides to continue holding it, “let me help you then.” 

It’s not difficult for him to read the room. He knows what Hyunjin wants and how obvious it is that he needs it. His cock silently screams for touch, to be relieved. So at the perfect moment, Jisung reaches into Hyunjin’s shorts and past his boxes.

A quiet hiss issues from his mouth when the entire length of his dick is free from restriction. His cock is beautiful. Jisung never managed to get a good look at it since it was either in your mouth or drilling your pussy from behind.

Jisung licks his way into Hyunjin’s mouth, his tongue dancing across his plush bottom lip before he breaks away for a moment. Excitement surges through him now that he finally gets to feel what he’s been wanting to since that night two weeks ago. He stares down at Hyunjin’s cock, pre-cum beads at the tip, some had already leaked down his length.

For Jisung to have him so aroused, so desperate for touch, proves the effect his friend has on him that he suspected was present. Hyunjin had an inkling of it when you all slept together, but nothing other than that. A pang of realisation maybe, that his friend was attractive and alluring in a sense, and it was obvious that Jisung felt the same. 

He takes a soft hold of the top of Hyunjin’s cock, the pad of his index finger swiping over his tip and pulling away. He watches the thick string of glimmering pre-cum connect him and Hyunjin, forcing a wave of embarrassment to come crushing over him. It wasn’t embarrassing to Jisung. It was hot. So fucking hot.

Seeing the impact of his own actions on Hyunjin’s body gave him a sense of power so to speak. It made him want to see more as he started tugging gently at his dick. He trusted that Hyunjin’s pre-cum would act almost as a lube, and sure enough with more strokes, his cock was sticky with it. Nothing but slick sounds and tiny, barely there whimpers from Hyunjin’s mouth fill his lounge, drowning out the next episode of the drama that was still playing. 

“Mm…it…mmm.” 

“Don’t be shy Hyunjinnie,” Jisung prompts him to become more vocal, to express what he’s feeling however he wants. “We’re friends, since when have you ever been quiet around me?” 

Hyunjin replies breathlessly, “friends…d-don’t get each other off.”

“Hey, you haven’t gotten me off yet,” Jisung reminds him. 

Yet. 

In his mind that starts to slip through his fingers like sand, Hyunjin was no longer able to tell if that was an empty possibility or a very real chance of it happening. For the time being, he chooses to focus on pleasure. The satisfaction of having something wrapped around his cock to relieve him, and the divine pressure that begins to store at the base of his cock from Jisung’s long strokes. 

“Feel good?” He asks. 

The question alone is enough to make Hyunjin lower his head and close his eyes, too shy to meet Jisung’s ardent gaze. Instead, he gives an affirming nod. 

“Good,” Jisung mumbles quietly, then finds Hyunjin’s lips once more with his own to kiss him.

God he can’t stop kissing him. 

The way they melt into each other is almost like they’ve done this a hundred times prior. Jisung tugs and strokes Hyunjin’s length so attentively, greedily drawing out every single reaction he can possibly get. The hushed moans that transmit from his mouth as Jisung’s tongue moves lazily to explore. Very abruptly however, Hyunjin breaks away from the kiss. 

“G-Gonna make me cum,” he swallows hard. 

Jisung’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head just hearing that. To him, those words are not only a specific type of praise or reward, but it’s coupled with the way that Hyunjin sounds right in his ear. His tense, high pitched whimpers become more frequent and stressed as Jisung has been building him up to the height of his orgasm.

“Cum for me then,” Jisung whispers to him.

Suddenly, the air snags inside Hyunjin’s throat. His head drops and all the attention gravitates towards his cock, shivering as he starts to orgasm.

“Ngh - ‘sung…cumming,” he strains out, breathing deeply but staggered. 

Jisung catches his seed in the cupped palm of his hand as he manages to stroke the tip of his length at the same time. He looked so beautiful when his mind and body writhe under his touch. Hyunjin’s moans complete the satisfaction Jisung feels to have unravelled his best friend like that. To see ribbons of his white warm cum in hand makes him struggle against the unhinged part of his brain that needs to taste it for himself. He can’t help it when the base of his palm reaches his mouth-

But it doesn’t stop Hyunjin’s face from twisting and screwing into an expression of revolt. 

“Jisung,” he says with a tone of warning. 

He hastily tucks himself back into his clothes, springs up from the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to grab a paper towel. After soaking it a little bit in some warm water from under the tap, he returns to Jisung and cleans his hand. Hyunjin didn’t want to make a note of the fact that most of Jisung’s palm was covered in cum and when he returned, it was almost like it was never there. Still, he did him the decency of helping clean him up. 

“Maybe wash your hand too,” he suggests with a concerned look still clouding his face. 

“Don’t look so offended, Hyunjin,” Jisung chuckles airly. “You taste good.” 

“Shut up, please,” is all he can come back with, then looks up to not only see that cocky, arrogant grin of Jisung’s but to also notice that there’s still a trace of his cum smeared a little bit on his bottom lip. Hyunjin reaches towards his friend’s face, thumbing the excess away.  

“Don’t waste anything,” Jisung scolds him.  

“Alright,” he rolls his eyes, done with the mortifying humiliation and stands up again to return to the kitchen with the dirty paper towel to chuck it away. 

“Wait, come back! Kiss me one more time and I swear I’ll stop embarrassing you!” he calls out to him.

Hyunjin stops listening to Jisung and all the whiny complaints he propels from the coffee table. Instead, something else suddenly occupies his attention. The one thing that threatens to unbalance his mood once more. 

“Jisung,” Hyunjin says. “Is it true? About Y/N and Chan?”

“Huh?” He answers, “Oh, yeah. It is.” 

Hyunjin’s gaze falls to the floor. That answers that then. 

Jisung then continues, “I didn’t want to mention how I saw the message though. If I did, it might’ve put you and Y/N in the spotlight about that night we had when you probably didn’t want to. Plus, they’re like jackals. They would’ve torn you to shreds just to get an answer.” 

Hyunjin nods, appreciative of his friend's move, “thanks. But should you have told them about Y/N and Chan anyway?”

Jisung did realise at one stage that he told their friends about you and Chan, but didn’t apply that same energy towards bringing up himself, you, and Hyunjin. There wasn’t that much of a difference when he looks at it now since he’s also messed around with you both, similar to the way Chan is currently messing around with you.

But Jisung knows for a fact that he didn’t bring it up because he wanted to save his own skin or divert any suspicion or attention away from himself. It was just so scandalous to find out that the two least suspecting people on his radar of who in the group would be fucking, is you and Chan. 

“They said they weren’t going to say anything,” Jisung responds. “I trust them that much, not that I should be making a big deal about it, but I want to go see Chan. I know that they’re not, but I want to make sure that they aren’t actually dating, otherwise-“

“We’d have to tell him,” says Hyunjin.

“Exactly,” Jisung agrees. “Again, I don’t think that’s the case. Chan said so himself that he’s done with dating and relationships, and I trust that wholeheartedly too.”

Hyunjin gives a nod and decides to hold out onto hope. Hope that you’re not seeing him and that it’s just something that turns out to be a stupid rumour. In the meantime, he needs to figure out his feelings. 

Too tired to make the commute back to his own place, Jisung ended up staying the night at Hyunjin’s. He could’ve well and truly slept on the couch but for what it was worth, he was invited to sleep in Hyunjin’s bed. It’s not like they’ve never slept next to each other. But for some reason, it means something a bit more. Something hazy that exists in a twilight zone that Hyunjin only hopes clears up so he can decipher what he feels towards Jisung. 

The thought floats around in his mind before he drifts off, sleeping comfortably, only to wake up the next morning tangled in each other’s arms.

Neither of them were bothered about it. 

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #i.n smut #changbin smut #hyunjin x jisung

[cherrychilli]

MDNI, NSFW, AFAB reader, Dilf! Steve, babysitter reader, breeding kink, P in V sex, mentions of pregnancy, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Steve is in his early 40's)

A/N: Turning this into a wee series. More Dilf! Steve right here

Consider this: Divorced Dilf! Steve who's infatuated with you, the new babysitter. Watching you take care of his kids sends his breeding kink into overdrive and soon enough you're working 'overtime'. He pulls you away and fucks you in the laundry room while the kids are distracted by the TV in the living room. He has one of his palms placed over your mouth, the other gripping your waist as he pounds into you from behind while you're bent over the washing machine. The sound of the running machine helps to drown out your muffled cries but you hear him loud and clear when he leans down to groan against your ear. " 'Bout time you ditched the birth control don't you think, sweetheart?"

You immediately clench around his cock, knees feeling weak as he continues. "You scared of what people might say if they found out that you spread your legs for me?". He pulls you up, your back now flush against his chest, his teeth grazing your neck. "You wouldn't care for very long though would you? you just want me to fill you up- fuck you full. Y'Think I haven't noticed?"

You know exactly what he's insinuating. You wanted a baby of your own. You hadn't expressed it out loud to him but it wasn't a hard guess to make. It showed clearly in the way you loved taking care of his kids and that feeling only deepened when you began to notice the look in his eye whenever you caught him watching you. Spending most of your time there, you liked to image what it would be like to share his home, his bed, a life together. He was nothing short of a devoted father and that only made your attraction to him skyrocket. If he could trust you with his kids it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that he'd trust you with one more, right?

"W-want you to put a baby in me, Steve", you manage to pant out when he removes his hand from your mouth.

You'd only recently begun to call him by his first name in private. You were still getting used to it but you liked the familiarity. 'Mr. Harrington', he decided was far too formal for the girl he'd been railing for over a few months now.

He can feel himself losing it when you talk like that but he maintains a semblance of self control long enough to taunt you. "Bad girl", he chides darkly. "Pretty young thing like you begging to get pregnant. Do you realize what you're asking for?"

If you weren't so cockdrunk right now you might have been able to shoot back a well deserved remark. You were bad? he helped make you that way. He was the one who made you long for the late nights after putting his kids to bed, leading you downstairs so he could eat you out on the couch. Licking and sucking on your swollen clit all while telling you how he couldn't stop thinking about you and your sweet little cunt while he was at the office all day. He was the one who fucked you stupid in the back seat of his car on idle street corners in the middle of the night before dropping you back home after your shift. And he was the one who came inside you minutes before his ex wife was over to pick up the kids, taking too much pleasure in watching you scramble to look presentable as you handed them over to her all while trying to hide that her ex husband's cum was dripping out of you.

"Y'Know how much your body's gonna change if I knocked you up?" he grunted. "You're gonna get big here, obviously" he places his hand over your belly, pressing down on it so he can feel the way his cock's plunging inside you. You choke on a wail. It was already a tight fit but now his cock dragged along your walls with added pressure and pressed against your cervix so hard your eyes were beginning to roll back. "You're gonna be swollen all the time and get really sensitive like right here", his hand glides over your stomach and reaches up to squeeze one of your tits, rolling your perky nipple between his fingers. "These are gonna get so full of milk" he reminds you like the thought of it hadn't already made your pussy gush with fresh arousal. "All because of me. You sure you're ready for all of that?"

"I-I am, I want it so bad", you sob feeling your orgasm approaching fast.

"Wanna make you a daddy again", you manage to whine out before it washed over you.

That did it.

You stopped taking your birth control after that day and used every spare moment you had to let him fuck you around the house, staying over in secret without the kids or his ex wife finding out. It was sordid and blissful and by next month you knew it wouldn't be very much longer until everyone found out as you stared happily at the positive pregnancy test a few days after your period was due.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

[cicimunson]

Ruin Me Part 2

Series Summary: Eddie is obsessed with you, but tries to hide it because he knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t want to corrupt you or risk your friendship.

Chapter Summary: Eddie's been avoiding you and you call him out. He is quick to remedy the situation.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Virgin Female Reader

Warnings: EDDIE RIDES OUR THIGH LOVES. Little bit of angst in the beginning, sexual situations.

Word Count: Almost 2k

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

It'd been a few days since you'd hung out with Eddie. You saw him in class and at lunch, but other than that, he’d barely spoken to you. You could tell he was avoiding you.

Maybe you'd come on too strongly the other day. Eddie had licked and sucked your tits until your nipples were practically chafed, jerking himself off until he came all over his hand.

He wouldn't let you look at the mess. He didn't even kiss you afterwards, although you'd been writhing from his touch, practically begging him to meet your lips with his own. He'd cleaned himself up and apologized several times.

"I'm sorry. I took it too far. I feel terrible."

He held you close, whispering apologies over and over while kissing your cheeks and forehead repeatedly.

"Eddie, it's okay. I promise there's nothing to feel bad about. I liked it."

"You're so sweet, you don't deserve this. I'm the devil."

He ushered you back out the door, looking guilty and remorseful despite you insisting it was fine. He didn't even say bye, just murmured he was sorry once more before shutting the door in your face.

You knew that the two of you had crossed a line you couldn't come back from. Not that you wanted to. Sure, you were a virgin. And yeah, calling you innocent was pretty accurate. But something about Eddie made you want to change all that. You knew he felt the same. It was just getting the scales to tip in your favor at this point.

You catch up with him in the parking lot after school. "Munson, wait up!"

He turns to you, his expression unreadable. "Oh, hey." He greets you half-heartedly.

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Studying for O'Donnell's final?"

"Oh, yeah, shit, I forgot. I kinda have plans."

He made plans. He forgot about you. That fucking hurts.

"Wow. Okay, then." You turn to walk away.

"Don't be mad." He pleads

"It's fine, Eddie. I get it. I'll leave you alone."

 He sighs. "Come on, Y/N, it's not like that."

"You haven't spoken to me in almost three days. And now you're blowing me off. It is like that. But it's cool. No worries"

He grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him.

"Y/N, I feel guilty as shit for what happened the other day. I shouldn't have touched you like that, shouldn't have made you watch me. I just…I know if I'm alone with you it's gonna happen again and maybe go further than it needs to."

"You didn't make me do anything, Eddie. I could have walked out anytime. I chose to stay."

"Because I'm corrupting you."

"No, because I'm tired of being treated like a little girl by everyone. Because you make me feel things I haven't felt before. Because I liked what I saw you doing. It's not about you and what you do, Eddie. It's about me and what I want. I'm my own person and I can make my own decisions."

He sighs, running a thumb over your bottom lip. "And what do you want, sweetheart? You don't even know what you're asking for."

"So teach me. Better you than some jock or someone from your club, right?"

His eyes narrow. "I would kill anyone that tried."

"I'm not going to stay your sweet Y/N forever, Eddie." You lick the pad of his thumb that's gliding over your lip.

Eddie's breath hitches.

You swirl your tongue around his finger.

He moans softly and pushes his thumb past your lips. You suck on it and he pulls you close.

"What are you doing to me, Y/N?" He murmurs into your hair. "My resolve is hanging by a thread."

You whimper around his finger and he groans, knowing he can't keep fighting the urge to make you his.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue. You tug on the lapels of his jacket, wanting him closer, wanting to feel him pressed against you.

He breaks away from the kiss after a minute or two. "As much as I'd love to keep going, we should probably get off school property."

You giggle. "Oh yeah, probably."

"Can I give you a ride home?"

"Mhm, thank you."

You and Eddie climb into his van and head down the road. You watch as he drums on the steering wheel, singing under his breath to the Black Sabbath song blaring from the speakers.

Feeling bold, you reach out and take one of his hands, pressing a small kiss to his knuckles before laying it on your lap. Eddie squeezes your bare thigh, his thumb slipping underneath your skirt to trace circles on your skin.

Your shiver and he grins, glancing over at you. "You okay?"

"Mhm. I'm fine."

He lets his hand wander a little higher. "Are you sure?"

You squirm under his touch. His hand is warm and his cool rings are a nice contrast to the heat. You clench your thighs together.

Eddie smirks knowingly.

"So needy. So cute." He murmurs to himself as he pulls up in front of your house.

"No one's home if you want to come in." You try to sound nonchalant.

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. We could get a snack or something before you have to attend to your other plans."

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Those plans got canceled."

You giggle. "On the car ride over here?"

"Yup. They sent a smoke signal, you probably didn't see it." He deadpans with a wink.

You play along. "Oh, makes sense."

Once inside, you offer Eddie a coke and some pretzels. He guzzles it down, soda running from the corner of his lips. You wipe it away with your thumb and then stick your thumb in your mouth.

Eddie watches you, fascinated. Everything you did lately seemed sexual to him. The way you giggled, the skirts you wore around him, the way you looked at his mouth when he talked.

To his surprise, you take a step towards him and brush your lips against his. He kisses you back softly and carefully, oh so damn carefully, struggling with the urge to grab the back of your head and slide his tongue in your mouth.

Your hands slip underneath his shirt and he groans. "You're so sweet, baby. So damn sweet."

"I'm not sure how to touch you." You admit. "I wanna learn, though."

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

You look down, clearly flustered.

"Tell me. Do you ever rub yourself?"

Just tell him. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of.

"I have before, yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

You still can't meet his eyes. "Really good." You admit.

He lifts your chin. "Did you think of me?"

You squirm under his gaze.

"Answer me."

You know there's no point in lying, Eddie can read you like a book. "Yes. I've thought of you while doing it."

He smiles, looking almost smug. You can see the lust in his eyes.

"Eddie?"

He takes a step back and lifts you on the kitchen table.

"Show me what you do."

"What?"

"When you touch yourself. Show me how you do it."

You blush. "Eddie-"

He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your thigh, then another one a little higher. He pushes your skirt up as he goes, until he's kissing your hip bones and your skirt is hiked all the way up.

You moan softly and run your finger through his hair.

He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. "Can I take them off you?"

You nod and lift your ass so that he can pull them down. He sticks them in his jeans pocket before kissing down your leg and back up the other one, pushing them apart.

You realize your pussy is on full display for him.

He kisses right above your pubic bone and you gasp. He takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

"Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me."

You can't resist him. You both know it. You start moving your fingers in slow circles on your clit.

"Feel good, angel?"

"Mhm." You rub a little faster and moan softly.

"Do you put fingers in yourself?"

You nod.

"Let me see."

You groan as you ease a finger into your pussy. You're wet, wetter than usual, and you know it's because he's watching you.

His intense gaze is fastened between your legs, his tongue flicking put to lick his lips.

"Can you add another finger, sweetheart?"

You push another finger inside you and moan his name.

Eddie's eyes snap up to your face.

"Say it again. Say my name."

"Eddie."

"Again."

"Eddie."

He pulls you closer to the edge of the table. "Keep doing that. Keep touching yourself."

"Do you want to touch yourself, too?" 

"I'm gonna do something else."

He places a leg on either side of your thigh and rubs against you.

You'd heard about thigh-riding before. Nancy had talked about riding Steve's thigh before she gave him her virginity. You didn't realize it was something boys could do, too.

Eddie grunts as he grinds down on you, the zipper of his jeans digging into your skin. You secretly hope it leaves a mark. Branding you as his.

Eddie watches your fingers move faster, listens to the sound of your pussy getting wetter and your breathing speeding up.

He wants more than anything to replace your fingers with his cock, but he knows it's too soon. It's something that needs to be worked up to.

He can't take his eyes off you as he shamelessly ruts against your thigh. He had told himself he wasn't going to worry about getting off, that he'd be content to jerking off at home picturing this moment, but he couldn't hold back. He needed to come with you.

"I'm so close." You moan, your fingers moving frantically. "Eddie, I'm gonna…"

"That's right, sweet girl. Come for me. You can do it."

You cry out his name as your whole body tightens. The orgasms you'd had before were nothing compared to this. It slams into your body so fast your vision goes spotty. Your cunt spasms around your fingers and you fall back on the kitchen table, still working your fingers furiously because the sight of the man falling apart while he grinds into you makes you want to keep going, to keep cumming.

Eddie feels his cock twitch and he knows he's close. He snatches your hand from between your legs and sucks on your fingers, the taste of your pussy sending him over the edge.

Rather than cum in his boxers, he lets open his fly and shoots his load on your leg.

You gasp when the hot liquid hits your skin. 

Eddie lays on your stomach, gasping.

You reach down and touch your thigh, bringing your fingers up to examine them.

Eddie's eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you lick them.

"Jesus Christ." He presses his forehead to yours. "I say I'm your damnation, but I'm starting to think you might be mine."

You kiss him softly. "I guess we'll be damned together."

#stranger things eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller? (Part 2) bfd!Joel x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: after a filthy interlude with your married best friend’s dad, you decide that movie night is the perfect time to tease Mr. Miller into a repeat performance.

warnings/tags: Infidelity, Unprotected p in v, oral sex [m receiving], Mean Joel, Dirty Talk, almost caught, hold the moan, spitting, fingering, exhibitionism, nicknames (good girl, slut)

word count: 4.5 k

a/n: Y'all, I did a filthy one-shot and I got comments requesting it be a series and because I can’t deny ya’ll anything, here’s an equally filthy part 2. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

part one here

=========================================

You and Sarah are in her bedroom, flipping through fashion magazines when there's a gentle knock at the door. You immediately go to cover up, wearing only your holiday themed nightdress. 

What if it's Joel?

You haven't spoken a word to him since yesterday's little adventure. Part of you is exhilarated at how naughty it all was. The other part deeply ashamed.  You’ve never done anything like that before. You’ve always been a good girl, a loyal girlfriend. Not someone who seduces your friend’s married father.

Tess pops her head in, looking merrily at you both. You try to keep the flush from your cheeks. She has no idea how you fucked her husband in their bed yesterday. How he painted you with his come.

"Hey girls we're gonna watch a Christmas movie. You wanna join?"

Sarah glances up from her magazine, brow raised. "Is there popcorn?"

Tess smiles, nodding. "Of course."

Sarah leaps to feet with a laugh, looking to you expectantly. "You comin’?"

You consider not. After everything that happened with Joel yesterday you feel weird. It had been fun, exciting and wrong. You start to shake your head, wrinkling your nose.

"Um..."

Tess opens the door for Sarah to walk through and at that moment Joel strides by in sweatpants and a white t-shirt holding a large bowl of popcorn. 

He looks so fucking good your pussy begins to throb just at the sight of him. He glances over at you lying on the bed, ankles crossed behind you and you see his cheeks flush. He moves quickly to the other room where the TV blasts.

You smile up at your friend. 

"Okay."

///

"Sarah you're gonna ruin your eyesight sitting that close."

"I am not," Sarah tosses over her shoulder at her dad. 

She's brought an armchair close to the television, munching away on a handful of popcorn. Sarah does this in the dorm as well, sitting so close to the television that you're convinced she's gonna go blind. 

Tess and Joel are snuggled under a blanket on the sofa.

"Join us," Tess says warmly. She pats the empty cushion next to her.

 Joel is studiously ignoring you, his attention on the saccharine film playing. He’s been ignoring you since the incident, going so far as to remove himself from any room you enter. He gives flimsy excuses like working on his truck or needing to go for an errand. But you know, it’s the shame and the arousal that propels you.

You nod, sitting next to her. Joel is on the other side of Tess, pressing as far into the arm of the sofa as possible. Tess offers you popcorn from the large bowl she holds on her lap which you politely decline. 

"Oh I like this one," you say relaxing into the sofa as you realize what movie they're playing. You hope that you can pass the next little bit of time without being obvious. You consider this a sort of test.

You try not to glance at Joel and do pretty well. Tess acts as a wall between the two of you, chatting quietly with Joel through the movie. You and Sarah toss back sarcastic comments about the film’s bad soundtrack.

A short while later your hand goes to the popcorn bowl, not paying attention. It collides with Joel's, both of you distracted by the movie. You can feel the cool metal of his wedding ring rasp against your wrist as he jerks his hand out the second it brushes yours.

"Careful," Tess grouses as popcorn spills over the sides. Joel murmurs an apology and you don't have the guts to chance a glance at him. Your heart is hammering in your chest, your entire body tingling. 

You watch out the corner of your eyes as Tess leans her head against Joel's shoulder. They seem like a perfectly happy couple. You feel guilty about all of this. But a larger part of you feels electric at knowing your seduced this woman's husband. That you have that power. 

"Can I have more popcorn?" Sarah calls. Tess gives a good natured groan, pulling herself to a stand and walking over with the bowl. 

Then it's just you and Joel they're on the sofa. You can see him tensed up, pressed as far away from you as possible. It irritates as well as amuses you. A surge of new arousal floods you, and you can feel the tops of your inner thighs are sticky with slick.

Tess' back is still to you both and you don't know what possesses you, but you reach across the sofa, gripping Joel's left hand tightly. His wide fingers dwarf yours. 

He stares at you in shock, his mouth dropping to protest as you bring your lips to his hand and wrap your mouth around his ring finger. You suck gently, tongue swirling around his digit. He watches in stunned silence as your teeth wrap around the glinting gold band there, smiling up at him. You can see his pupil blowing wide in his dark eyes. 

Your mouth sucks hard on the digit causing Joel to tug back. As he does the wedding band slides off his finger, left tightly between your bared teeth. He looks furiously at you when he realizes, but can't say anything without drawing attention. 

Joel swallows, immediately forcing his attention back to the movie. But you don't miss how he squirms. He puts his hands under the blanket just in time for Tess to return from scooping popcorn into Sarah's bowl. 

"You cold baby?"

"Mhmmm," Joel says with a wan smile, crossing his legs away from her. 

You sit there, the metal ring heavy on your tongue as Tess climbs under the blanket with Joel. You wonder if he’s already hard under there and you wonder how he’ll explain that to his wife.

"You want any?" Tess offers the popcorn to you. You shake your head smiling, trying not to laugh. 

A short while passes and you're pretty sure that Sarah has fallen asleep in front of the TV. Tess yawns, pulling herself up from the blanket. 

"Gotta pee. Don't worry about pausing."

She pushes herself off the sofa, leaving you and Joel next to one another once again. You can see him tensing, unsure of what you're going to do next. 

I should stop.

But even as you're telling yourself this, you lean back, twisting, eyes low and watching Joel. When you see he's scrutinizing you, you glance over to make sure Sarah is still facing the TV before turning to look down the hall. From where you sit you can see the door to the bathroom. The light is on and Tess is inside. 

You reach your foot out, nudging Joel's thigh. He refuses to look at you. Irritated you nudge again, this time the arch of your foot sliding over his front and he holds in a hiss.

He's hard. Hard as a fucking rock. 

He twists away from you, shoving your foot from his lap as you grin wickedly. Joel pretends he doesn't want you but his cock can't lie. 

Emboldened you drop your thighs open, so thankful you've foregone panties this evening. You're already soaked, your pussy glistening in the low light of the TV. You bring your finger to your mouth, slipping the ring onto your middle finger, your tongue pushing it onto the digit. 

Of course it's too large for you, but you still crook your finger to keep it secure around your knuckle. 

You reach a hand between your legs and arch. Joel's eyes are immediately drawn to your sopping cunt and you see his breathing hitch when he realizes you're wearing the wedding band on your middle finger. 

You gently curl it inside and smile from under half lidded eyes as Joel's mouth parts. 

You can see it now, his hand palming his hard cock through his sweatpants. You feel a thrill go through you. Your thighs part further and you watch Joel's brows saddle, his stroking increasing. The metal has been warmed by your mouth and glides effortlessly against your cunt. 

You add a second finger, smirking when Joel's hand moves from overtop his sweatpants to desperately fumbling under the waistband. 

His lower half is hidden by the large blanket he and Tess were sharing. But you can see the jerking motions underneath; can see the flush on Joel's cheeks and neck. He can’t stop staring as you fuck yourself with your fingers on the sofa next to him. You’re bared so vulgar, your thighs spread wide so he can see everything. The gentle squelch of your sopping cunt reaches him and he grits his teeth.

You can't make noise, so you make sure that your face tells him how much you like this. Brows saddling as you rut against your fingers, biting your lower lip as you play with yourself. He whispers something to himself, you think it might have been ‘faster’ but you never find out.

There's the sound of the sink running from the bathroom and you immediately twist back to how you were sitting before. Joel is panting, his cheeks stained red when Tess comes back. He focuses intently on the TV, jaw clenched. 

Tess grabs the empty popcorn bowl and some of the leftover mugs and pads to the kitchen. You hear the sink running as she does the dishes.  Joel glances over his shoulder, ensuring Tess is out of sight before he jerks his face to you, eyes dark and narrowed. He looks furious, dragging his tongue over his dry lower lip as he glares at you. 

"Gimme my fucking ring," he mumbles, his voice rasping. 

You smirk, shaking your head slowly in denial of his request. You bring your fingers to your mouth, ring still crooked on your middle finger. Never breaking eye contact you drag your tongue over the digit, dragging it down your throat, over your clothed breasts, the nipples jutting under the thin fabric of your nightdress. 

"Here," you say, relenting and holding the ring out to him. Joel visibly relaxes and removes a hand from under the blanket, reaching towards the ring. You pull it back just in time for his hand to close around nothing. You bring it back to your side, trying not to giggle. 

"Quit it," Joel snarls. 

"What was that, honey?" Tess calls from the kitchen, causing you and Joel to both blanch, stiffening. 

"Nothing baby," Joel calls. "Just sayin' the movies better than I remember."

Tess enters back into the living room, stretching and shooting you and Joel a sleepy smile.

"Gosh I'm tired," Tess yawns. "Don't think I'm gonna make it the whole movie."

"We can go to bed, baby," Joel murmurs. You can hear the thread of desperation in it as he looks up at her from the sofa. 

"No, you like this movie. You stay out here with the girls," Tess insists. She presses a kiss to Joel's temple, standing and padding to bed. You both remain still until you hear the bedroom door click closed. 

Sarah is officially passed out in front of the TV. You can hear her gentle snores from here. Joel shoots the back of her head an anxious look before glaring again at you. You're almost beside yourself in amusement. Joel is so angry and there's nothing he can do about it. 

You don't even think about it. You're pushing your nightdress up your chest, bundling it under your chin. Your tits hang out, tips aching for him. 

Joel's anger ebbs slowly, his eyes roving over your body, the want clear in his eyes. Your thighs press together, denying him the sight you know he aches for. 

"Filthy little slut," Joel murmurs so quietly you almost don't catch it. His hands are back under the blanket, rustling there and you know he's jacking off right there in front of you. Denying you what you want to see the most.

Still the illicitness of this all is so enticing that you begin to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. You like how responsive they are to your touch and the night air. They strain for attention, and you pluck at them, pinching until your hips jerk upwards and you hold in a hiss.

Joel’s breathing is sharper, his movements more erratic. He’s going to spill himself all over his knuckles.

All of a sudden there's movement by the television and you yank your clothing back down. Joel pulls his hands out from his sweatpants before he throws the blanket over your bare lower half. 

"Going to bed," Sarah mumbles pushing herself from the chair and rubbing at her eyes. If she notices you and her father under the same blanket she doesn't say anything. 

"Night, I'll be in after the movie," you say breathlessly. "Just wanna see how it ends." 

She makes a sleepy noise before padding to her room half asleep. You and Joel remain perfectly still as she leaves as if she's an animal that hunts by movement, relaxing only when the door closes behind her. 

You glance over to see joel's eyes are closed, and you can see his teeth clenched tightly. You shift, wanting to stop yourself but unable to stop the gravitational pull you feel. 

You crawl towards Joel on your hands and knees, slowly slinking towards him. You can't help it, he's so fucking delicious like this; torn half way between desire and shame. 

By the time he realizes that you're at his side, it's too late for him to jerk back. His eyes open, dark and sultry. 

"Stop fighting it," you murmur against his ear, relishing in the way he shivers as your lower lip grazes his lobe. Your hand slips under the waistband of his sweatpants, hand curling around his warm and pulsing cock. You whimper into his ear, so turned on. "You're so fucking hard. You want this just as much as I do."

"I don't."

He says this with no conviction, his head tilted back on the sofa. His jaw is slack, his eyes closed tightly as you jerk him off. You watch his mouth purse slightly; the only sound the TV and the gentle rasp of your hands rubbing against his sweatpants as you stroke him. 

His cock is twitching like mad in your hand. Precome coats your hand after a few tugs and you feel his abdomen tensing. Your hand glides over his cock as you snuggle up against him, staring at him as his hips start to thrust into your hand. 

But soon your hand isn't enough. You're so desperate to have him in your mouth again. To feel the weight of his thick cock on your tongue.

You release his cock against his belly and Joel glances up in a daze, just in time to see you pull the blanket on his lap over your head, hiding yourself from him as your mouth hovers above his twitching cock. 

It's so pretty. Big and thick and weeping. You know he'll deny again and again it but here it is, cock hard and pulsing because he fucking wants this. 

You press a sloppy kiss the head of his cock before giving soft kitten licks to the head as Joel's hand fumbles under the blanket to grip the back of your neck. He thrusts up, fucking into your mouth without hesitation. He hits the back of your throat, making you gag. 

Oh fuck yeah, Joel.

After a moment his other hand is pulling the blanket off of you. He wants to watch. You glance up as your tongue drags from his base up to swirl around the head of his cock. His face is unreadable. He's looking down at you, curled over his lap as you suck him off. His eyes are heavy lidded and his mouth parted ever so slightly. 

Without breaking eye contact your lips slip to cover his head again and you slowly attempt to take all of him into your mouth. He's holding still now, not moving his hips. You can see the way his hand moves from the blanket to ball into a fist, watching you swallow his cock.  

"So big," you whisper from his lap, smiling drowsily at him as he gives you a breathy groan.

Your mouth goes back to bobbing in his lap, your nose touching the wiry hair at the base of his cock. Joel's hand is loose on the back of your neck, tangling in your hair as you take him deeper into your throat. His cock is coated in your saliva, smoothly filling your mouth.

Just as you're losing yourself in the sensation you feel a strong hand fisting into your hair and tugging painfully. 

"No, no," Joel insists, yanking your mouth off of him. He shakes his head, panting so heavily you're convinced he's going to faint. "This ain't happening again."

You pout, pulling your hair from his grasp and leaning back on the other end of the sofa. He watches you, his broad chest heaving. 

"Gimme my fucking ring back," Joel hisses. "Now."

You lean back on the sofa, your thighs dropping open as they had before. You're tired of waiting for him. You're so fucking wet.

Joel closes his eyes, refusing to look at your glossy, puffy cunt bared for him.  

Your hand, still donning his wedding ring comes back to your slick cunt. Without hesitation you remove it from your finger, sliding the ring to circle your clit, framing it and holding it there with a forefinger.  

"Come and get it," you tell him, smirking.

Joel cracks an eye open to see you spread for him, naked and slick. He sees his wedding ring glinting around the pearl of your clit. You see his tongue dart out to drag along his drying lower lip, his lean neck bobbing as he swallows.

"I ain't playin'," Joel threatens his voice a low growl that hits you between your thighs. 

He tilts his head to face down the hallway. All the bedroom doors are closed. 

For now.

But you both know it would only take seconds for one of them to open the door. Seconds for them to find Joel hard and alone with his daughter's friend. Seconds to see you spread lasciviously for him on the sofa, your tits out and your fingers parting your lips. Then Joel’s eyes are on you, blazing infernos.

"Neither am I." Your mouth curves into a sinful smile and you keep your voice low, not wanting it to carry. "You know you want to taste my pussy, Joel. It's so sweet." 

There's the switch, you see it as clearly as if he'd been physically shaken. You can see it in the tense of his jaw as he decides what to do.

You watch now as his broad shoulders ripple under his t-shirt, his body twisting on the sofa. You hold your breath as Joel crawls towards you. He's like a predator hunting prey, his eyes so dark they reflect none of the low light in the darkness. The only light is coming from the tv, the sound quiet.

"I told you to call me Mister Miller."

And suddenly you're not the one in control anymore. You're at Joel's mercy and this turns you on so much your mouth goes dry. 

He tugs you towards him until you're flat on your back. He pushes your thighs further apart, holding you open for him.

You watch in silence as Joel tilts his head forward, full lips pursed before he spits directly into your sopping cunt.

It feels degrading and it feels so fucking hot all at once. You catch his eyes and you feel your breath catch as you wait for his mouth, devastated when his fingers fly between your thighs. Without hesitation his fingers curl in you, mingling your slick with his saliva. 

"Greedy fucking thing," Joel murmurs quietly as you bite your lower lip, thrusting against his fingers. It feels so good being there on the sofa, Joel knuckle deep in you as you edge closer to orgasm. 

 You don't even care that his finger comes to grip the ring around your clit, sliding it back onto his ring finger, dragging it through your folds as he does so. 

You hold in a moan, thighs shifting as he drags his ring finger along your clit, the metal smooth. Your eyes crack open to see Joel watching you, face impassive. 

He pulls his fingers from you once he sees you looking at him and you feel yourself whimpering softly at the absence of his touch. 

You realize this interlude is over, watching as Joel rights himself, bracketing your waist with his knees. Joel has his ring back and now your fun is over. But he's looking at his ring, still damp with your slick and his eyes burn. 

His hands have begun pulling his cock from his sweatpants. And without ceremony he's plunged himself into your cunt, not caring about your pleasure. When you let out a surprised gasp he covers your mouth with his broad hand.

"Shut the fuck up."

You nod, back arching into him. He leans over you, bracing himself on his arms. But he's not doing it to be intimate or kind. He's doing it so he can spill filth into your ear without his voice carrying. 

"You don't get my mouth," Joel tells you between quiet grunts. "Little fucking slut. Getting me hard in front of my wife."  

You shiver. 

"This cock is what you get. That's all you fucking get and t-this is the last fucking time."

Sure Joel. Sure.

You have no intention of this being the last time. You plan on fucking Joel Miller every day you have left of this vacation. There is no way that you won't be trying again. Not when being wrong feels so fucking good.

He glances down the length of your bodies, pulling himself slowly from your cunt to see him covered in your slick. You see his eyes shutter, his breath catching before his gaze devours yours. 

"So fucking wet. You actually enjoy how wrong it is."

You nod, body at his mercy entirely. Your clit is buried in the wiry hairs at the base of his cock as he bottoms out completely in you, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. He doesn't touch your clit, only chases his own pleasure. 

"Little tease," Joel growls in your ear, hand flying to the sofas edge for purchase so he can fuck you deeper. "Fucking sick what you're doing. Making a married man fuck you."

Your pussy is wrapped obscenely around his thickness, your swollen clit desperate for relief. You go to slide your hand between your bodies, needing to touch it when Joel presses you harder into the sofa cushion, trapping your hand between your bellies. 

"Nuh uh," Joel rasps in your ear. "You don't get that tonight. Only good girls get to come on my cock."

Your eyes jolt open, questioning. Joel holds back a smirk, his cock still sawing in and out of you. He watches your breasts bounce with every thrust, swallowing thickly. 

"Good girls don't do what you did tonight. They don't-"

All of a sudden there's the sound of footsteps over carpet and the door to Joel's bedroom opens softly with a creak. 

Joel's chest dips, chest pressing into yours. You go still and wait for Joel to leap from you but his cock remains inside you despite his body tensing. Tess calls out from the bedroom. 

"Joel you still out there?" 

"Yeah baby," Joel calls out, shockingly composed considering he's still inside you. "Movies almost done."

From where you both lay on the sofa, you can't be seen from the hallway. Only the back on the sofa. Tess doesn't see you naked under her husband who is fully dressed aside from his twitching cock buried deeply in your cunt.

"Be a good girl and keep quiet," Joel orders you in an almost silent whisper at your ear. 

You nod up at him, eyes clear. As a reward his hips snap up, hitting you in a spot you cannot reach yourself and if not for his wide hand you're sure Tess would have heard your whimper. 

"Did Sarah and her friend go to bed?"

"Uh huh," Joel says, mouth curved into a dark smile as he stares down at you, body jolting under his added thrusts. "Just me out here." 

"Okay, night baby."

The door is closed once more and Joel doesn't hold back. His hips drive into yours, his mouth slack. His hand has loosened from around your mouth and you tilt your head, your voice quiet. 

"I kept quiet."

"You did," Joel agrees, head falling forward. His hips circle, extending the pleasure for you. "Good fucking girl."

"You said good girls get to come Mister Miller," you remind him in a whisper, your voice breathy. Joel's eyes darken if possible, sliding down to your mouth. 

"That's right I did," he rasps, his breathing staccato-ed. 

He moves his hand to your mouth, forcing his thumb between your lips and pressing onto your tongue. 

"Suck me like a good girl."

You do, coating his thumb without hesitation. He watches you from behind impassive eyes, seeing how eager you are to please him. He removes his thumb, smiling at how desperate you look for him. 

He slides his cock further into you, his thumb now coming to circle your slick clit. "You were such a good girl taking my cock so quietly. Letting me fill you, pussy stretched so tight around me."

"I can be quiet so many places Mister Miller," you promise him in a whisper. "I can be quiet wherever you wanna fuck me."

You arch against him, your own hand coming to cover your mouth to stop the sounds building in your throat from escaping before being dragged to your side. Joel’s hips slam into yours and he pins your arms to the sofa cushions, almost daring you to make noise so he can deny you the pleasure slowly building within you.  

"You were gettin' so wet knowing she was right there," he groans softly, his hips moving between your legs. "Knowing I was talking to my wife while I fucked your sweet little cunt. Weren't you?"

You nod again. Joel attempts a smirk, but it looks pained. You make a soft exhaling sound as his hands come to grip your thighs, curling around your ass and yanking you brutally against him. And just hearing those husky, whispered words from Joel is enough to have you jerking against him as you come, eyes shut and arms pinned to the sofa. 

He makes a strange noise and you smile as he begins to fuck you harder, his body so heavy on yours.Joel's mouth is wet with spit and you wish you could lean up and feel those plush lips on yours. 

"You on the pill?"

"Uh huh," you nod. Your heart fluttering in your chest. 

"Go on and ask, then."

"Can I have your come, Mister Miller?" You coo softly up at him, eyes wide and shining. "Please?"

"You want me to fill this pretty pussy up?"

"Uh huh."

 The sofa creaks and Joel pauses just long enough to empty himself in you, ropes of come that decorate your womb as you arch against him, bouncing against his stuttering hips. He pants into the crook of your neck, his breathing slowly returning to normal. 

He pulls himself slowly from you, his cock glistening with your combined release. It turns you on to see it, and still panting and naked you smile at him. He's not smiling though. He looks unreadable. His cock is softening but he lets it hang there outside his pants. 

Despite everything he looks intimidating, leaning back to rest against the arm of the sofa behind him. His legs adjust, opening so you have better access to him. He’s breathing heavily, nodding at his cock and then looking to you.

"Clean me up," Joel orders flatly. "I can't go to bed with my wife like this." 

But you want him to. You want him covered in your juices when he goes to bed next to his wife. You want him aching, wanting you, your scent clinging to him. 

But you nod, crawling slowly on your hands and knees to him. You lean forward, hands on his thighs and without hesitation you lick him clean, base to tip with eyes closed as you savor the taste. Combined you're both so sweet on your tongue. 

When you're finished you sit back on your heels, allowing him to help you back into your nightdress. 

"Now you stay the fuck away from me," Joel warns, tucking himself back into his sweatpants. "I'm serious."

You nod, trying to keep the smirk from your face.

"Yes, Mister Miller."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #dad joel miller #fanfic #pedro pascal #fanfiction #bfdJoelMIller #best friends dad #filthy smut #filth #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou fic #joel miller fic #a03 #filthy thoughts #smut smut smut

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei: is here

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so) and so im gonna end up using the uh same ones prbly

[TW for this one specifically include: Demeaning uncle Geppetto, mentions of grief, signs of overworking mentioned, blood, wounds and crying, anxiety, puppet going aray]

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

The wrench bent on contact with the floor.

It was mere and old wood but the throw was aggressive enough to leave the tool useless. It was one of many. One he could easily snatch from the Workshop Union from.

Damn these halfwits.

He was not expecting a call from them. They were just as naive and cocky as the Workshop Union, and their glorious, genius breakthroughs.

With a grunt he picked up the tool before carelessly throwing it into a metal bucket. One on the far right corner and one far too familiar.

A heavy and frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Oh, son," Removing one glove, his fingers ran down his sweaty face, "It's always the same with them." Just as briskly as he sat down, Geppetto got up from the chair just as fast. His voice tired but still holding onto bitterness. "Stealing my time meant for you."

Brown eyes tiredly wandered up the motionless figure sitting on the blood-red armchair. The fabric untouched while surrounded by tools and oil, material that fell off shelves left on the floor. The pads were full and soft, so heavenly soft as it seemed - only the best for him even if he was not awake yet. Nevertheless, the sight irked him, from the unfinished touches of the skin up to the missing arm. It couldn't be any arm and so Geppetto had to wait and wait and wait for the material to be stocked again and again.

Progress was thriving at top speed but it didn't seem like that to him. All was too slow. Everybody was too tardy.

The flick of the light was fast but reluctant and as he looked outside, a scoff escaped him. Another long, long night but a dry one at that at least. Krat's cloudless nightsky the only relief he could feel.

Eyes mustered the nervous smile on your lips. Shoulders up to your ears and a little list in your hands - the man's hand absent-mindedly went to his mustache as he offered a smile to the lady before his eyes met yours again. With a nod, you were the next one in line.

The man rose his eyebrows and tilted his melon hat for a moment. You briefly scanned the list in your hands. "Baby blue fabric...made out of cotton, please?" "We certainly have that." Answered the man, "How long? Width and thickness?"

"Oh," You gave the measurements written on the paper and the clerk gestured you to follow. His other hand pointed on the hallway to the left. "Cherry." You turned your head as you tried to keep up, only to see a short puppet appear from the hallway, wearing the same melon hat as the man - only with a small ribbon at the side. Leading you to the back and taking out a roll of the cloth you requested, the man first showed it to you. 'Cherry' in the meantime rose its two hands, which consisted of a scissor and a measuring tape. Yet the clerk stopped it, before looking back to you. "I will let you know, young lady...100% cotton is expensive and we at Tailorshop Cherry never deliver anything other than superb quality."

He could see the hesitance in your face and took another roll of the wall. "60% cotton. Here, feel it." So you do, fingers gliding over the different fabric and as your eyes dart between the two rolls. The clerk eyed you with raised brows and it was almost like the puppet did, too.

You sucked in air. "...Perhaps 100% cotton would be better?" Making a face, the man sucked in air himself. "Can you even afford this, young lady?" He rolled the cloth up, "The measures you request for seem like that of an toddler. I've had...gentlemen pay the same sum to ask for their darlings hand."

"It's fine!"

"It is fine..." You repeated softer, "I am aware that this tailor is known for its quality...but I do know what I want." You pointed at the blue cloth. "This one would be just perfect."

The consequences were clear to you...but finances were the least of your worries. Your eyes throughouly stared at the roll, before looking up at the man and nodding your head firmly once more. Maybe you were too dead set on doing this and all of this might bite you later...it all depended on your uncle. Just musing about it made you deflate a bit. Perhaps it is the age, the stress, the work...but he has been more agitated since you last saw him - before your visit, before you moved here.

Or perhaps it was grief.

Eyes glanced to the side before looking back. "Well then, here you go." Feigning a smile, you took the package, one as big as your torso. You didn't like to think about it. "Cherry will stamp you a card. At the third purchase, 15% off!" It was too long ago. Or not, maybe even. "Thank you for purchasing from Tailorshop Cherry!" The puppet's hand brought out a stamp, punching a cherry-shaped hole on the pink card. It's voice softer and higher than that of the baker. You smiled and bowed before leaving.

Distracting oneself is easy. Either with your own life or with puppets.

A shaky gasp escaped you before the shrill echoes of inserructions neared. Your knees fell to the floor, the card long abandonded on the sullied ground as you clenched your hand to your chest with a high scream. The nearby customers congegrated around you but the salesman was quick to be the first one knelled at your side. Your ears felt about to burst - from the sounds of your crying to the panic of the people and the non-stop imploration of the man. The puppet seemed to speak, somewhere in the shop, for the first time since you entered.

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

You cried and hissed as the shopkeep forcefully took your hand away from your grasp. Though he begged and begged to at least see, you were sure as hell from the pain that there was too much blood.

Somehow, somewhere feet scrambled and you heard sirens soon after. Before anyone could barge through the door, the man held you by the shoulders as he and others tried to stop the bleeding - begging and begging to not utter the name Tailorshop Cherry.

The sound of stomping in the air as well as revolted murmurs resounded still.

"15% off!"

The stitches and bandages were done with. A woman offered you a handkerchief to dry your tears. Though it was all awfully sweet, the mention of having been lucky that the puppet's clutches did not move any closer to your bone was one you immediately tried to force out of your head.

The card was left there on the shopfloor, its cherry pink color tainted red.

Jumping, you halted before your feet stepped on another pair. The door threw itself shut harsher and louder than anticipated and trying to save face, you quickly stepped to the side. Geppetto continued where he was left off - putting on his coat.

He glimpsed at you from the side, back hunched as he let one arm crawl into the sleeve as he did the other. You bit your lip and avoided his gaze before taking a step back. The wind picked up by the time you came back to the workshop and howled against the door. It creaked slightly.

The older man reached for his hat, "And where were you, young lady?" Finally he fully turned to you, though his eyes were still narrowed. "Out." You quickly but meekly let out and played with a loose wrapping end of the package. "As I told you, Uncle."

"I wasn't aware you'd be out this long." He looked for an umbrella, just in case, but kept his tone flat while speaking. "I don't like it when you are out for that long. Especially as such a young girl as yourself."

"I," You licked your lips after the small stutter, "I wanted to get back by dinner." "Dinner." Geppetto sighed, "Oh. Right, dinner." His hectic movements halted; before he began to button up his coat calmly. Eyes scanned the hallway and turned to you. "Be a dear and order food. Sandwiches or, or pasta. No, actually get something that can be eaten cold." You took a step closer, "Won't you have a bite before you leave? It's late and I am sure you're hungry. Besides, the weather's getting awful."

"The better it is that I leave now." Taking a small, old umbrella he finally found, Geppetto opened the door and took a step outside - but not before looking at you. "Order some food, dear, I'll be sure to enjoy it after I come back. And..." Brown eyes narrowed as he slightly leaned closer. The man scrunched up his nose.

"What happened to you, (Name)?" His eyes flickered to your limp hand. You mimicked his movements but tried to hide the bandaged hand under the parcel anyway.

"...Uncle, today afternoon..."

"Ah, you are fine though now, aren't you?" Geppetto failed to see the frown on your face the moment he mentioned the injury. Instead, he patted his collar down. "We'll talk about this later but this is what happens to children staying out after dark. You don't see how you get hurt."

Again, you tried to gather courage to speak your mind, just a word, a mere objection to his ridicilous and childish assumptions-

"...Go to bed early, (Name). You already have a few dark circles under your eyes, unbecoming of a young lady."

The door was shut close. A strong gale blew into the workshop briefly, leaving a shudder down your spine.

The frown stayed on your face. Still, the parcel had to be stored into your room sooner or later, and it was best done sooner judging from your uncle's mood. Adjusting your grip, as it started to slip out of your clutch, you slowly went up the stairs while having a hard time taking your eyes off the door.

Eyes stayed trained on the needle and the fabric, as well as your fingers, as the sewing machine diligently worked away. Although you held both machinery and fabric rather awkwardly with the side of your hand, the sure progress melted your sadness away, bit by bit.

Your wallet may have not suffered today for you got the fabric graciously for free, but your limb surely did.

The puppet did not really puncture your thumb, the emergency responder said. Still, the injury was deep enough to be treated with stitches and bandages...and a few painkillers, possibly. It kept you on wiping your tears.

The mechanical cadence would stop as you shift and lay the fabric in different directions, cut off unneeded material while avoiding to accidentally stab out your own eyes with the scissor whenever you rubbed them. The experience today was scary enough but despite it, you did not want to stop now.

Forcing yourself to take one more sip of your drink, you cleared your throat. Eyelids feeling heavier.

A puppet wasn't supposed to do that.

No puppet was ever meant to harm another, human or mechanical fellow alike. Even if it was a mere accident - this 'Cherry' should have sensed your flesh being too close to its brackets and it not having targeted the card correctly.

On top of that, echoing its master's words like a madman if you recalled right.

Uncle Geppetto had to know. Even if he would still be too busy to listen, you'd have to let him know.

"...I know you..."

You frowned as the machine begun again. Your voice barely reached the same volume as this old thing...neither did your sniffles.

"...I don't feeling like singing that one." Mumbles reaching no one but yourself. Once again, you sniffled and cleared your throat, focusing on the task at hand.

"...When you wish upon a star..."

Lone words entered the lone room. Sitting up straighter made you feel more focused, more awake. Here, in the moment and aware that this trivial task meant change for you.

"...Makes no difference who you are..."

The machine continued flawlessly despite its age. You even found yourself singing while it conducted its own cadence, no matter if both tunes melodically weaved in together or not.

It was about the feeling. About the action.

It was about being heard even if your only audience was yourself.

Yet it was not. It never was.

"...Anything your heart desires..."

Behind the many walls, down the turning and winding stairs and straight through the locked door, were sounds emitting and attempting to mimick your own.

The rattling was resounding from the underground and offering its own melody in hopes it will join and align with yours.

Though it sung in high and longing tunes when picking up the sound of your sniffles.

Naive, little thing that you were, you did not hear it over your own whimsical fantasies.

"...Will come to you..."

#yandere lies of p #Lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #yandere pinocchio #Pinocchio #Lies of p pinocchio x reader #Pinocchio x reader #P x reader #Yandere #ticking springs

[corrodedhawkins]

I never seen this one but what about Steddie/reader orgasm denial BUT she cums anyway and who knows what their gonna do about it

Threesome: Part six of the Eddie kink series

Content warnings: Graphic smut (minors DNI) language, threesome (duh?), dom/sub dynamics, blow jobs, crying, fingering, unprotected rough sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, punishment.

“Ah ah”, Steve scolds as he stares down at you. You’re on your knees in front of him, his cock stuffing your mouth as your hand snakes between your legs to touch yourself.

Eddie removes his lips from Steve’s neck, following his gaze down to you with a frown.

“Sweetheart”, he taps your chin to get you to pull off of Steve, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his cock when you let it go. “You know the rules, you cum when we say you can, and not a moment before.”

The both laugh when you whimper, hand moving from between your legs to sit idle on your thigh.

“Good girl”, Steve murmurs as he grips the back of your head, forcing you closer as he feeds his cock back into your mouth.

You can hear the slick sounds of them kissing above you, Steve’s hold on your head making it impossible for you to pull back and get a good look. Just the thought of them kissing, Eddie swallowing Steve’s moans as you suck him off, is enough to make your pussy throb and weep.

“She’s so pretty with your cock in her mouth”, Eddie murmurs against his lips.

Steve hums, “would look a lot prettier with it down her throat.” He pushes your head down until your nose touches his skin, cock buried as far down your throat as it can go.

You sputter and gag, instinctively moving your head back to pull off.

Before you can move far, Steve’s vice grip on your head tightens, holding you still. His other hand grabs your jaw and forces it open wider. “You’re fine, you can take it.”

He thrusts forcefully as your throat spasms around him a few times before his grip eases, allowing you to pull off.

You’re gasping for breath, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

Eddie reaches down to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb coming up to swipe away a tear. “Shhh. You're ok."

You’re so wet you can feel it on the insides of your thighs, on the backs of your calves as you sit on them. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be touched, to be filled.

Steve gives you a minute before pushing back into your mouth, thrusting lazily as he captures Eddie’s lips hungrily.

Undetected by the men standing over you, you slide your hand between your legs and start to touch yourself. Relief washes over you as your swollen clit finally gets some attention, having been ignored until now.

You’re already so close, your orgasm just out of reach as you press your fingers harder over your clit. You accidentally moan at the sensation around Steve, and they break away from the kiss to look down at you.

Your rip your hand away from yourself but it’s too late, they’ve already caught you.

Steve pulls out of your mouth and grabs your wrist, hauling you up to practically shove you down onto the bed.

Eddie's quickly at your side spreading your legs, holding one of them open with a firm hand. "We said no."

He slaps your pussy, the band of his ring catching on your clit. It’s just enough to make you whine, high and needy, as you cum clenching around nothing.

“Are you fucking cumming?”, Steve grips your jaw, forcing your head to the side to look at him.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, still riding out the waves of your orgasm.

“Look at me”, He grits out, hand tightening on your jaw.

When your eyes flutter open to look up at him, you’re met with a seething stare.

You’re still whimpering when you hear Eddie speak up beside you.

“You’re so much of a slut that you came without us even touching you properly, after we specifically told you not to.” He tuts his tongue, “What are we gonna do with her, Steve?”

Letting out a disappointed sigh, he shakes his head, keeping eye contact with you as he speaks.

“We have no choice but to punish her.” He lets go of your jaw forcefully, rising stand at the foot of the bed. “Hands and knees.”

Once you’re in place, Steve grabs you hips, hauling you back so your ass hangs off of the mattress.

“Here’s what’s going to happen” Eddie knees his way over to you on the bed, stopping to sit back on his heels in front of you.

“We’re going to use you to cum, and you’re going to take it.” He pets at your hair before his hand tightens around the strands.

He slams his cock into your mouth, the hard, deep thrusts down your throat already making your eyes water.

Behind you, Steve lines up and sinks into you, a loud groan escaping him before he starts thrusting.

They fall into a frantic rhythm, one pushing in when the other pulls back, making sure you’re filled at all times.

There are tears pouring down your face, spit dripping down as they use you.

Steve plasters himself to your back, reaching around to thumb at your clit. “You wanted to cum so bad? Well, you’re going to get what you wanted.”

Eddie groans as you whine around his cock, throat vibrating around him. “I think she likes that.”

It’s starting to become difficult to breathe, and you pinch at Eddie’s thigh to let him know you need a break. He rolls his eyes as he pulls you off of his cock.

“Hurry the fuck up”, he bites out as your chest heaves, lungs finally filling with air.

Steve thrusts faster, laughing as you fall face first into the covers without Eddie holding your head up.

That gives him the perfect opportunity to hike your ass up higher, forcing your head farther into the mattress so he can thrust deeper.

He’s hitting your g-spot dead on, the quick, hard jabs of his cock head making you dizzy.

You grip the sheets as you feel your orgasm building inside of you, desperate for something to ground yourself. You’ve barely caught your breath before you’re cumming, back arching as you gush around Steve’s cock.

“P-Please”, you whimper. “I can’t”.

“You will”, Eddie corrects.

You start to squirm away from Steve’s cock, oversensitive after having just cum.

“Uh uh. You’re not going anywhere.” Steve grabs your hips, forcing you back onto his cock.

You wail, back arching as he pounds into you ruthlessly. “I can’t, I can’t cum again”, you sob.

Eddie forces your head up to look at him. “Too bad.” He taps the head of his cock to your lips with one hand, the other tilting your head so it’s at the perfect angle. His cock slides back into your mouth, pushing down your throat in one hard thrust.

Your muscles are already seizing, pleasure hitting you hard you as you choke on Eddie’s cock, gurgling around him as you ride it out.

“Fuck”, Steve groans. “You get so fucking tight when you cum. How’s her throat feel when she cums?”

Eddie tips his head back and moans, “she starts to choke every single time, makes her throat clench around me.”

They’re both panting, using you as their toy as their orgasms near.

Steve reaches for Eddie, cupping his face with his palm as he brings him closer, effectively shoving his cock as far down your throat as it’ll go.

They barely kiss, too distracted by how good you feel to do much more than pant into each other’s mouths.

"You close?", Eddie asks against his lips.

Steve nods, "yeah, fuck I'm close. Gonna cum deep inside her." His pace turns brutal, slamming into you until his hips stutter. He cums, wet and hot inside of you with your name on his lips.

Eddie follows after, groaning as he cums down your throat, feeling you swallow every drop.

As soon as they come down, they're scooping you up and propping you against the pillows. Steve smooths your hair out of your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips, forehead resting against yours.

"You alright?"

You hum softly, nodding your head slightly against his. You feel like you're floating, in between awake and asleep.

Eddie scoots in behind you against the pillows, pulling you back into his chest. He wraps his arm around you, cheek resting on the top of your head. "Not too rough?"

You try to shake your head no, but you're already falling asleep, head resting back on Eddie's shoulder.

Steve throws a blanket over you, tucking the sides around you. "You were so good for us, baby. Get some sleep."

The last thing you remember is the feeling of a soft kiss against your forehead as you drift off to sleep.

Tag list:

@ghastlyentity @sweetpeapod @e0509 @stardustmunson @simpingoverfictionalppl @munsonquinns @thorfemmes @khaleesibubblegum @manddoublee @mcplestreet @lizziesfirstwife @kellynickelsgirl00 @wroteclassicaly @msmimiandrew @emokid-ellie @stardust-galaxies @escapingthereality @bayouteche @marsbar127xx @feralphilosphy

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader #steddie x fem!reader #melissa writes #eddie kink series

[lavendertales]

Guilty pleasures: Chapter 1

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: introduced to the new watch group he has to lead, Joel finds himself bickering with one of the recruits in particular. but not so much when their lives are in imminent danger.

word count: 3.5k

SERIES WARNINGS: age gap (reader is in their 30s, Joel in his 50s); enemies to lovers, sexual activities, mutual pining & tension, violence, PTSD, weapons & injuries.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @katronautt

series masterlist | AO3

JANUARY

The cold has long settled in your bones, chilling your entire body. No matter the layers of clothing on you, the long road had still taken its toll on you. You could barely keep your eyes open with the snow drizzling down.

Maybe you should’ve picked a warmer place to settle. California sounded like a dream, especially in these conditions. You missed California. But no, of course you agreed to go through a blizzard just because Maria was grateful to you that you saved her and her husband’s lives. And it was by accident entirely, but that’s only for you to know.

“There we are,” a male voice announced. “Home, sweet home.”

Fucking finally, you thought.

All you could think about was a hot soup and a soft mattress underneath you.

Sure you were grateful to Maria and her husband Tommy that they asked you to come along with them in Jacksonville, but you were still a little reluctant settling down somewhere. You haven’t sat in one place since many years, and the subdued memories of that time make you think this isn’t such a good idea.

But you want to give it a shot. You’ve known Maria for a while; somehow, from the time you threatened to shoot her to the time she allowed you and others to smuggle some pills and food out of the city, she became the one constant in your life. Every now and then, the two of you would meet, help each other out and then be on your separate ways. Except now, you were part of Jackson’s community, and you wanted to give it a fair shot.

You dismounted from the horse, backpack frozen on your back. You rubbed your hands together, looking around at the houses and the lights that surrounded them, and a faint smile stretched from the corners of your lips. It looked oddly homey. A place you could see yourself living out the rest of your days.

“Not bad, huh?” Tommy asked proudly next to you.

You made a face, still gazing around. “Not bad, I’ll give you that.”

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll stay,” Maria tapped you on the shoulder. “The rest, follow Tommy.”

You followed Maria to a little house, not too far into the city center, along its main street. You entered rather hesitantly after her, quickly inspecting the place. It had everything you could possibly want: a kitchen, living room, and bedroom. It was more than what you’ve had in a long time. But most importantly, you noticed a fireplace; that had you hastily removing your backpack and shotgun and going over to start a fire.

Maria chuckled. “Not a fan of the cold, huh?”

You rubbed your hands together, waiting for the wood to spark the highly anticipated sparks of fire. “I was born on the coast,” you said. “So no, not really into freezing limbs.”

“Get some rest, alright? Tomorrow we’re gonna get organized in groups and assign jobs for each. Any preference?”

“I got a shotgun. Take a wild guess.”

Maria chuckled again. “Alright, so either hunting or watch.”

“Either way, I’m shooting things.”

“You sure you don’t want the pistol?”

You took another look at the little revolver in Maria’s hand and gulped. You could feel the color draining from your cheeks. You wrapped your hand tighter around your shotgun, staring blankly at Maria.

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied after a while. “I prefer big guns.”

“Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

His knees hurt. Fuck, he should’ve known better than to climb up that steep hill in such a hurry. Not like they were being followed by any infected. But there he’d been, trying to prove something to himself still—and to Ellie too, he supposes.

But Joel Miller isn’t exactly a young man anymore. His heart might still be that of a twenty year old, but the aches throughout his body say otherwise regarding his physical health. His age is showing in moments like these, and as much as he hates it, he accepts it nonetheless.

Whenever he looks in the mirror, he still sees himself as a father-to-be. He recognizes the man behind the tired figure he faces every day, but that young man has died two decades ago. He is long gone, replaced by the hardened flesh of a ruthless survivor.

No time for wallowing in self-pity today though; he had promised Tommy he would lead the watch group, so he’ll do what he always does: shoves down his pain, deep, deep down, and moves along with the world.

January’s cold weather is unforgiving, even under the thick coat he’s wearing. Joel goes out front in the street, surprised to see that the little group Tommy and Maria put together to keep Jackson safe is already there. He walks towards them, quickly inspecting them. Three men, two of which are built pretty solid, and two women. One of them holds a shotgun, clinging onto it like it’s some sort of life vest, and Joel could almost chuckle for whatever reason.

“Mornin’,” he salutes them.

He receives some mutters and replies, with the exception of the woman with the shotgun. His eyes instinctively go to her figure, and when their eyes meet, a cold shiver runs down his spine. One that has nothing to do with the freezing weather.

“Let’s get moving,” Joel tells the group.

“I see you’ve meet the troupes.”

Tommy’s voice comes up from Joel’s right, patting his brother on the shoulder as a greeting.

“What do you think?” Tommy asks.

“Not bad. It’ll do.”

“What are we, spring chicken?”

The voice belongs to you. Your eyes meet Joel’s again, and yours narrow, alongside your furrowed brows. There is no warmth in the glare you receive, and there is none in the one you return.

“Those would probably be more useful,” Joel retorts.

You point the shotgun at Joel, with everyone else on high alert. Tommy positions himself between the two of you, hands raised in defense.

“Let’s keep it friendly, okay?” he tells you both. “We’re on the same side here.”

“I’m not the one pointing a gun,” Joel says sourly.

You lower the shotgun, still staring at him. You see a man who’s clearly been through a lot, hardened not only by the cruel outbreak, but by other things as well. You don’t bother asking or caring, honestly. You’ve got your own shit to deal with, and you have no interest in appealing to anyone.

“Great manners you’ve got,” Joel addresses you directly.

“So what, you’re the oldest living gentleman?”

Tommy chuckles nervously. “I see you’ve hit it off with my big brother.”

Your jaw drops slightly as you stare incredulously at Tommy, who introduces Joel to you, and you to Joel. The two of you share another glare, filled with nothing but distrust and hesitance. Joel moves closer to Tommy, muttering, “I thought this group’s for watching, not making unnecessary threats to strangers.”

“Trust me, Joel, if you run into anything on that watch, you’re gonna be glad you got her there.”

Something about the way Tommy makes that statement, with a little pride and glimmer in his eyes, it raises Joel’s curiosity. But he shoves that down as well, and resumes his position.

“Alright, let’s get movin’, now,” he tells the group.

You move to the front of the line that gets formed; that way, you get a better view at this Joel Miller.

Time turned half of his hair gray, adding a sort of dignified aura around him. He’s got broad shoulders, the bony structure visible even with the heavy coat he’s got on. Though his face is undoubtedly tainted by hardship and his eyes seemed to spew iciness during the previous contact, they were somehow still warm. As if there was still something for him to hold on to.

“You point that gun at me again, we’re gonna have an issue,” he warns out of the blue.

You chuckle, holding onto the shotgun’s strap. “You haven’t had anything poking in your back in a long time, have you, big guy?”

Joel turns to you, a dangerous frown creasing his forehead. “Could say the same about you with that goddamn attitude.”

You hide the smirk that resides on your face, moving along with the rest of the group.

“That’s your opinion,” you retort cheekily.

Joel’s mind starts to race, but he swiftly shuts it all off. He doesn’t need another aggravation.

“I can see why you got this promotion,” you comment. “Head of the watch party, Tommy’s big bro—“

“What, you’re jealous or something?”

“Please. If Tommy were real smart, he’d see that I got more stamina in me, but I can appreciate him sticking with family.”

While the others keep climbing up the hill, Joel stops dead in his tracks and stares you down.

“You have no idea about the things I can do,” he seems to threaten, only it comes out more guttural, almost alluring.

You don’t reply. You simply refrain from smiling, figuring the gesture would set him off further, and you need to keep moving before you freeze to death.

Two weeks you’ve been in Jackson, and you feel like you’ve lived there for years. While there was a certain familiarity and coziness to the small town and its people, there’s also a feeling of repetitiveness. Like a poorly prepared routine. You didn’t really mind it because you weren’t there to make friends. You were there because Maria was grateful. That was pretty much it. You weren’t really interested in friendships, anyway.

And certainly not with someone like Joel Miller.

Though you wouldn’t mind having a thing or two going on the side. He’s really not bad on the eyes, but you’d never say that to him or to anyone, much less to Tommy. You get the sense that for the Miller brothers, loyalty came first. You could appreciate that, but you wouldn’t want to get in the middle of anything.

“How much further?” one of the men, Marcus, asked.

“Are we up the hill?” Joel asks.

“No…?”

“Then we still got road to cover.”

Joel rolls his eyes and pushes past the slight knee pain. He takes a mental note to get some of those pain killers and whiskey later. He has the feelings he’s gonna want to be knocked out tonight. Knowing that he has to lead this group, though, it gives him a certain sense of pride and accomplishment, and, like with everything else in his life, if he’s gonna do this, he’s gonna do this right.

The icy road and harsh air breathing onto his face keep him awake and alert. His eyes roam around endlessly, his ears open and attentive for the slightest noise. All he sees before him is white and blue, the occasional gray reminding him of his own graying features. His joints ache, his body temperature drops, but his heart beats faster. In those twenty years, he’s seen enough to know reach a point where infected no longer scare him. He’s seen all the stages of the virus, all the creatures that were once human, and he’s done it all.

What does scare Joel, though, are people. People are by far the scariest creatures in nature. At least with the infected, you know what you’re in for. Animals, same thing. People, however, have a conscience, and never knowing what truly lies there is the most frightening prospect.

So anyone who knows Joel Miller in the slightest knows he’s reluctant when it comes to people. The only ones he trusts are Ellie, Tommy and Maria. The list does not go on. These people behind him—whose names he couldn’t be bothered to remember—are cargo. An obligation, but, should it come to it, a nuisance. Five people behind him, meant to follow him, and Joel feels as lonely as ever.

Which he prefers, of course.

There’s sudden rustling in some bushes nearby. Almost in sync, all six of you put up your weapons, ready to defend yourselves. The previous guy, Marcus, seems the most nervous as his arm betrays a slight shake; Joel ignores it, eyes locked on the frozen leaves. Seconds later, a rabbit emerges carefree. You all put your guns away.

“I thought it was—“Marcus starts.

Joel huffs. “Congratulations, you caught a rabbit.”

“We all had our weapons ready,” you intervene. “Better a rabbit than a fuckin’ walker.”

Joel throws another glance at you, half unimpressed and half curious. Tommy’s words about you echo in his mind, though he fails to assign any particular meaning to them. Trust me, Joel, if you run into anything on that watch, you’re gonna be glad you got her there. He didn’t ask for clarity, though in hindsight, he probably should have. What were you, some sort of karate expert? An incredible warrior? Not likely. And not because of a sexist issue, but because he doubted your harsh attitude and presumed anger against the world would pair perfectly with great hunting skills.

He knows that firsthand.

A couple of miles further, there’s more rustling. Marcus seems too disappointed in himself to prepare his gun this time, but Joel puts up his, and so do you.

“Is that—?” the other woman starts, but you swiftly turn around and press your index to your lips to shush her.

You stare at the ground, noticing some footprints. Dragged footprints. Shotgun at the ready, you look around, remaining right behind Joel. When no other sound but rustling is heard, you exchange a look with him, both of you concerned. You both know it’s not raiders; if it were, they would’ve attacked already.

And then you hear it.

The sound any of you dreads to hear.

Clickers.

You don’t see the first one till it’s too late. It quite literally jumps in front of you, convulsing around aimlessly. While everyone’s eyes widen, you hold your breath and simply look at the poor creature walking around. You know that if you shoot now, you might trigger a swarm of clickers and you’d all be outnumbered and doomed. So you remain still, breath still in, right under Joel’s and the group’s shocked eyes.

You feel the snow beneath your feet, and you gulp with nervousness. One wrong move and the clicker would hear the snow crumpling under your boots. You beg your body to remain frozen in the same spot, dead silent, and you watch as the creatures wanders off.

The second clicker, now that one you do see.

Joel doesn’t; so you react on an impulse. You come up from behind him, one hand over his arm, the other one covering his mouth. You both stare in dismay at the clicker convulsing right by you, then right by the group, followed by another, and another one, and before you know it, there are seven of them. Joel remains locked under your harsh touch, thus allowing you to keep him safe. It’s an act of trust that takes you both by surprise, but the moment calls for it. There is no other way.

After who knows how many seconds or minutes, you slowly let go of Joel, and he looks down on you, murmuring an inaudible thank you. You nod once, your breaths gone as you hear someone tripping, and the subsequent roar of the clickers.

It happens too fast: you and Joel both pull out the guns and start shooting the clickers alongside the rest of the group. Marcus is face to face with one of the creatures, pinned down to the cold ground, and you reach into the holster strap on your thigh to throw a knife at it. Hurt, the creature lets out a loud shriek, but in return you put several bullets into its distorted head.

“Move, move!” you hear Joel shout.

You make eye contact with Marcus, seeing the horrified expression on his face and the blood on his clothes. You gun down another clicker that was running manically in your direction, help take out the others with the group, able to breathe afterwards.

The white snow remains now tainted by blood and corpses, those of the clickers. You all check each other, pleased to see that you’re all safe. But then you lock eyes with Marcus again, and you kneel before him, inspecting his body.

“You hurt?” Joel asks him.

He nods frantically, pointing to his leg. You see the bite mark that goes well past the jeans’ fabric, and you shudder. Fuck. You glance around, finding your knife in one of the clickers’ heads, retrieving it and wiping the blood off on your jacket. You think at the very least, you can make Marcus go without that much pain.

But Joel is faster than you.

A gunshot is heard, and you flinch when it dawns on you that Marcus was just shot in the head, right in front of you.

You stand up, looking at Joel in utter shock and anger. “What the fuck?!” you exclaim.

Joel is too busy putting his gun away to respond to you. The other woman, Annie, responds to you in a fairly small voice, “It’s the policy.”

You turn to her, frowning. “I’m aware of that. But it doesn’t say anywhere that we can’t make this easier for those who die.”

Joel scoffs, and the sound angers you so much you put the blade to his throat, earning a few gasps from the group.

“Put that down,” he warns, tone dry and bored.

“He should’ve died easier,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

Joel looks at you, almost through you. “There’s no easy way to die in a fuckin’ outbreak.”

You remove the blade from his throat. It’s the second time in just a few short hours that you’ve threatened Joel Miller. The day wasn’t even half done yet, and you were already drained and angry.

“What, we were supposed to let him go?” Joel asks you.

“No. I know the fucking policy. I just—“

You exhale, shaking your head, acknowledging the fact that you are probably fighting a losing battle against morals. Of which you have too little, matter of fact.

“Never shot someone to spare them?”

Joel’s question punches a hole through your stomach. You gulp, staring at Marcus’ now lifeless body. The image quickly distorts, the body turning into that of another one, smaller and bloodier. Your hand shakes, your limbs go cold, and it takes you a bit before returning to reality.

“Path is clear,” you announce the obvious. “I guess we’re done for today.”

This time you take the lead ahead, and Joel and the rest follow you in complete silence. You only walk in front of them so they don’t see the distressed look on your face, not because of some newly found sense of leadership. You couldn’t care less about that.

When you reach back to Jackson, roughly one hour later, you run into Tommy and some teenage girl. Tommy’ face drops, looking at you, Joel, Annie and the rest.

“Infected?” he asks his brother.

Joel nods. “Clickers. Took them out.”

“Where’s Marcus?”

“On the bright side, path up the hill should be clear now,” you tell him. “On the downside, Marcus won’t be joining us for dinner in the future. If he does, that ain’t Marcus and we should probably kill him for good.”

You walk right past him and everyone. Ellie stares at your silhouette growing smaller in the distance, then turns to Tommy and Joel. “Who’s that?”

Tommy introduces your name to Ellie. Joel side eyes them, his mind playing your name on a loop. It’s a sound word, something worth remembering.

“Hate to admit, but you were right about her,” Joel tells Tommy, who smiles in delight.

“What did I tell you, huh? What happened?”

“When clickers were there, she was the first one to hear ‘em. None of us did till she did. She saved me from one of ‘em. Then she held a knife to my throat, but I reckon that’s a well-balanced treatment.”

“Whoa, that’s pretty badass if you ask me,” Ellie comments in awe.

“Good thing I didn’t ask you, isn’t it?” Joel replies.

Ellie sticks out her tongue at him and makes a face that merely amuses Joel. He finds himself staring into the distance as well, remembering the indignation on your face as he shot Marcus, the glimmer of hope in your eyes thinking there might’ve been an easier way to end his doomed life.

Deep down, he learns to appreciate that. Joel himself hasn’t had hope in quite some time, not since he saved Ellie from the fucking Fireflies.

Much as he might despise your attitude, maybe you and Joel aren’t that different after all.

next

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part fifteen

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Since the moment he set foot in Boston, Joel’s been loathe to leave you.

Even when he first arrived, when his head was buried so far up his ass, when he was keeping himself awake at night convincing himself that he didn’t love you anymore, that you couldn’t love him anymore, he still worried. He paced the floor of your apartment until Tess all but forced him to get some sleep.

Those two days you were in lockup, he thought he’d go mad, with the worry. And then when you did come home, dripping blood on the floor and collapsing into Tess’s arms. He had to remove himself from the room, because he knew if he didn’t, he would have fallen at your feet, have held you close and refused to let go.

Now, things are different. He’s yours and you’re his and everything is as right as it can be to Joel, but he worries more. Every run you go on, he wants to go with you. When he doesn’t, all he does is worry. He knows full well you can handle yourself, has seen you in action often enough to know he doesn’t have to put himself between you and the line of fire. But it doesn’t matter how many times he sees you with a gun in your hand, sees you swinging the bat he gave you so many years ago, watches the gears turning in your head when things don’t go exactly as planned.

You’re a badass, and he knows it, but he loves you and he has to protect you. That’s his job. And without Sarah to—

No.

He tries to cut off the train of thought, tries to blink away the memories that threaten to form behind his eyes. Time won’t erase them, and lately, they weave with his dreams, turn them to nightmares. He sees the faces of the people he’s killed, smells the gunpowder in the air. He loses his daughter, over and over again. He loses Tommy, loses Tess.

He loses you. Over and over. Hears your screams, feels the heat of your blood on his hands. He can’t—

“Joel?”

Your voice yanks him out of his head, deposits him back on the broken road he’s standing on. You’re a few feet ahead of him, your brow raised, the bat propped on your shoulder. There’s a smear of dust on your cheek, no doubt from the path you’d taken out of the QZ, squeezing through rubble until you popped out the other side — your least favourite way out, Joel knows. There’s a handgun strapped to your thigh, a knife hanging from your belt. His shirt hangs from your torso, the top buttons undone, the bruise he’d left on your collar the night before visible from where he’s standing, knowing he put it there. Your hair is half-tucked behind your ear, but a strand flutters across your cheek in the breeze.

You’re…beautiful. There’s no other word for it.

“Take a picture, Miller,” you say with a laugh, walking back the few feet separating you. You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt, pull him forward and lean up on your toes to kiss him at the same time. His hand finds your waist automatically, fingers seeking bare skin, and you’re grinning when you lean back. “It’ll last longer.”

Joel grunts at you, unable to hide his smirk as your fingers twine with his, pulling him forward, boots shuffling across the gravel. “How much time we got?” he asks, falling into step beside you.

You glance at your — functional — watch. “An hour,” you reply, shaking out your wrist, tapping the bat against your boot. “Time to kill.”

“Gonna have to go through the museum,” he tells you, and you nod. You’d scoped things out at the hotel, like always, concern on both your faces when you saw the water that had begun to pool in the sunken lobby. An easily bypassed obstacle, but the decaying city was showing more and more wear, the Infected getting closer to the QZ. 

“Fine by me, there’s a place I wanna check out between here and there anyway.”

“A place, huh?”

You shrug, your face noncommittal. “Yup.”

The place turns out to be a jewelry store, tucked between what was once a coffee shop and a dentist’s office. The entire strip has definitely seen better days, and Joel’s instantly wary, reaching for the gun at his waist while you bee-line for the front door, barely hanging onto it’s hinges. 

You pay him no mind, using the bat to clear the jagged edges of the broken window, making a clear path into the store. You disappear through the opening and Joel follows, calling after you. “Liv, wait a sec.” 

Joel’s sure the place has been well looted, probably nothing of any value left — not that it matters anymore, what good is a diamond ring when you could have a stack of ration cards instead? He can’t even remember the last time he saw a dollar bill out in the open. He still has his wallet, tucked away in one of your drawers in the apartment, still with a twenty in it, his driver’s license, a credit card that expired in 2004. None of it means anything anymore.

“It’s clear, Joel.”

Inside, just as Joel suspected, the place is a disaster. Shards of glass crunch underfoot with every step you both take, display cases turned on their sides, velvet cushions and those creepy hands used to showcase rings scattered across the ground. There’s no light inside, save for the bit of sunlight that creeps through the broken windows, and Joel watches his step, gun still in hand.

You’ve headed straight for the back corner of the store, and it takes Joel a minute to figure out why.

You and Tess have a bet going, of sorts. Every time you go on a run, you try to find the other person something outrageous, always trying to top the last item with something more ridiculous than the last. It started when you brought back this gigantic jar of marbles, then Tess came back with a whoopee cushion. On and on it’s gone, with Tess currently winning, returning from her last run with Tommy with a mostly complete deck of Uno cards.

“Shit,” you grumble, poking through the pile of glass at your feet, pulling the sleeve of your shirt over your palm so you can lift the display case. “It’s all broken. I wanted one of those little glass animal things. Like a turtle or a deer or something?”

“Baby, they bombed the city,” Joel retorts, putting his hand on his hip. “You really think the little glass animals survived?”

You blow out a breath, pouting, and Joel stifles his chuckle. But then your eyes go wide, and you crouch down, bat dragging through the glass as you move, reaching for something in the mess. “A-ha!”

It’s not a turtle. Or a deer. In fact, Joel has no fucking clue what it is, at first glance, until you place it in his palm for further inspection. It’s a fox, no bigger than his index finger, curled up in his hand. And it’s made of crystal, a slight crack up the middle of the tail, but otherwise intact.

“What d’you think?” you ask, laughing as you take it back from him, pulling your bag off your shoulders so you can stow the thing. “Do I win?”

“For now,” Joel says, smirking at the beaming look on your face. “I’m sure Tess’ll show up with a damn giraffe next time.”

You glare at him, zipping your bag shut. “Appreciate the vote of confidence, Miller.”

He offers you his hand, pulls you to your feet, leaning in to give you a quick kiss once you’re upright. “Anytime, baby. You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, slinging your bag back on and heading back towards the front of the store. “Y’know, I think I might have her beat for a while now.”

Joel only half hears you.

Something’s caught his eye, on the ground. Tucked partially beneath one of the overturned displays, it glints at him, catching the dim light in just the right way. Joel crouches, uses the end of his gun to move the shards of glass away before he reaches for it. Not silver, not gold, but a rosy colour, something he’s not sure he’s seen before. It’s pretty, a flat band, no gems, but flowers engraved into the metal, all the way around. It’s light, in the palm of his hand, has a few scratches but nothing serious.

Instantly, his mind wonders what it might look like on your finger. The thought nearly bowls him over, and he almost stumbles back a step, reaching up and dropping the ring into the pocket of his shirt.

He could ask…couldn’t he? He wants to ask. The feeling bubbles up, crawling up the back of his throat. It’s not the same as it was before, not that anything is. There’s no fanfare or big white dresses — though knowing you and Tess, he’s sure you could find something — or drinking until you forget how sore your feet are from dancing. It’s just a piece of paper, signatures tying your lives together, indefinitely to FEDRA’s eyes. Another note in your file, the first person to be notified should you show up dead somewhere, lucky enough to be recognizable.

But…he wants it.

Fuck, he wants it. With you. For you. You.

“Joel?” you call, your voice laced with concern, and he calls back, jogging towards the front of the store, watching his step as he goes.

“Comin’, baby.”

+

You meet Gwen in the usual spot. She’s been your go-to for some time now. Her drops are always good, always on time, and you’re always happy to give each other something extra. The first chicken you traded for didn’t last long, and you’d tried to extend the life of the second, but the clucking pissed off the neighbours, and Tess makes a mean chicken casserole.

This time is no different, at the start. There are faces amongst her crew you don’t recognize, a couple younger guys that are clearly just getting their feet wet. The trade is for first aid supplies from Gwen, produce seeds and a few boxes of ammo from you. The pharmacy in Boston has been running low on things for weeks now, with no promise of anything coming anytime soon. Deanna’s been worried as hell, grumbling at you any chance she gets, and you know this’ll help some.

“Who’re the newbies?” you ask, jutting your chin towards the two guys, your bag filled with Gwen’s supplies, zipping it shut once more. They’re young, maybe mid-twenties, and it makes you uneasy to see unsure hands on such a large gun.

“My brother, Trevor,” Gwen offers, and you lift a brow. “And the other, Noah, just arrived in Hartford a few weeks back.”

Joel glances at the men before turning to Gwen. “Not wastin’ any time, huh?”

Gwen’s face goes dark as she look between you and Joel, and it makes your stomach turn. “Hartford’s not what it used to be. I don’t…I don’t know how long it’ll be until we can make another trade, Liv. Things are changing.”

“Meaning?” you ask. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joel’s jaw go tight.

“FEDRA’s making it harder and harder for us to live in peace. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Her tone tells you you’re not getting any more information besides that, so you just nod, thanking her for the supplies. She offers a hand to shake, and you take it, nodding to her. “Stay safe, Gwen.”

“You too, Liv.”

“SHIT!”

Everyone whirls at the same time, watching as Noah goes toppling backwards. You’d met up at one of the intersections near the remaining chain link, same as always. A crater left by the bombs takes up the right half of the road, and Noah falls straight into it with a loud yelp. As he goes, his gun goes off, spraying the wall of the crater with bullets, and your heart sinks into your toes when you see where they land.

The crater is filled with cordyceps.

It’s taken a while, for FEDRA to figure out just how the fungus operates. They still don’t totally know, that much is for sure, but it’s not just in people. It’s underground, everywhere, branching out for miles in every direction, sprouting up through the earth in strange patches that you would almost think beautiful if you didn’t know firsthand the devastation they’ve brought. Disturb a patch in one place, and all you could do was pray that the Infected you’d awoken were too far away to get to you before you could get away from them.

The crater is lined with it, the cracked asphalt painted like a canvas, tufts of grass poking between, signs of nature taking back the earth. The sound of the bullets rings through your skull, the noise almost muffled as it breaks through the fungus.

Not a second later, you hear the screams.

There’s seven of you, total. You and Joel, Gwen, four of her men. Well, three, since Noah is now at the bottom of that crater, and hasn’t reappeared. You’re not optimistic.

Joel grabs your arm, pushes you behind him, towards the drugstore on the corner of the road. “Inside!” he barks, and you obey, purposeful strides carrying you towards the storefront, pulling your gun from the holster at your thigh as you go. Gwen waves her guys towards the building as well, and as soon as you’re through, Joel presses you into the wall, keeping himself between you and the outside.

Your heart is beating so hard you can hear it, your jaw solid and your grip on the bat so tight your knuckles are screaming in protest. Joel’s chest is heaving, his face a hard mask. You reach out, wrap your hand around his arm, squeeze lightly.

I’m here.

The screams echo through the city. It’s nothing new, to encounter Infected on a run. You’ve killed dozens of them at this point, bat, gun, knife. Whatever works. It’s become second nature, an unfortunate old habit. But the sound of them, no matter how many times you hear it, you still feel your spine bristle, like a cat that’s been cornered, making you want to hiss and spit.

Joel covers your hand with his, the other brandishing his gun. Slowly, he moves you back further, your back against the wall, inching away from the storefront. Maybe you could slip out the back, take the long way around back to the QZ, lose the Infected that way. 

You open your mouth to suggest it to Joel just as the swarm of Infected sprints past the front of the drugstore. It’s unnerving, how fast they are, the way their bodies move in that almost-inhuman-almost-human way. Nerves rise in the back of your throat as your boots slide backwards on the tile, Joel still leading you backward.

It all happens in one instant.

There’s a door, towards the back of the drugstore. An office, break room, you don’t know, but it swings open, and something lunges at you, knocking you to the ground with insane force that pushes all the breath from your lungs, your head smacking against the ground, bat flying from your grip, ringing when it lands beside you. You slide into a long-empty shelf, metal cutting into your shoulder.

You hear Joel shout your name.

You feel something rip into your side, tearing flesh. You scream.

You smell blood.

You see flash of Joel’s gun, the barrel bright silver. Has it always been that bright?

The gunshot rings loudly through the drugstore, and all the heads that had turned to you — Joel, Gwen, her men — all turn back towards the outside. Most of the horde had gone straight to the crater, bodies tumbling into it, but some, maybe ten of them, all turn their heads towards the drugstore.

Joel stares at you, his eyes wide as dinner plates. You shove at the now-dead Infected, ignoring the drips of blood down your shoulder and side as you scramble to your feet, pulling your handgun from it’s holster. Your arms are shaking as you lift it, cover one hand with the other to steady your shots. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this can’t be happening.

As the Infected start to draw into the drugstore, you all start shooting. The sound is piercing, echoing through your head, every nerve in your body pricking with pain with each shot that’s fired. Bodies drop, screams bounce off the walls, but you’re focused, picking them off one by one, ignoring the way your stomach turns with each one, the way you know what just happened, but you don’t — you can’t address it. Not yet.

This is happening.

Your clip runs out, and you drop to a knee, grabbing another from the holster, letting the empty clatter to the tile as you reload. For just a minute, Joel looks at you over his shoulder, his gun still raised, something you have no name for in his eyes.

This is happening.

Your blood is thrumming in your veins, birdsong you haven’t heard in a long time, making your ears ring, making your heart race. You keep pulling the trigger, half a mind to grab your bat off the ground and charge headfirst into the swam.

What difference would it make, anyway?

Gwen and her men move forward, brandishing knives to pick off the stragglers that climb through the broken windows. Joel lowers his gun, you shove yours back into its holster. He’s on you an instant later, turning you towards him, pulling at the fabric of your shirt. “Let me see.”

“Joel—” you start, pushing at his hands.

This is happening.

“Let me see,” he growls, and you relent, feeling your lip start to quiver as you let your arms drop, turning your head as he lifts the hem of your shirt. You hear his sharp intake of breath, see the crease between his brows deepen, and you know it’s exactly what you think. You felt it, different from the scratch Dean had given you on Outbreak Day. This was much different. Teeth, tearing, blood, saliva.

Infection.

Joel turns away, his face now pure anger. He kicks at the wall so hard his boot goes through, and you lift your shirt again, peering down at the wound. It’s a bite, no question. Teeth marks at the edge, blood seeping down your skin, turning the waist of your jeans dark.

This is happening.

Slowly, Gwen walks towards you. Joel cuts her off before she can get close, watching you inspecting your wound. “Oh god, Liv,” you hear her say, and behind her, someone cocks a gun. It makes you gasp, the sound choked, and Joel lifts his own gun.

“Get out of here,” he barks, his voice a terrifyingly deep register you’ve never heard before. “Now. I’ll deal with it. Go.”

Gwen just nods, gives you a sympathetic look before she’s herding her guys out, all of them picking their way around the bodies littering the floor. You let your shirt fall back down, the blood making the fabric cling to your skin. Your shoulder aches, blood soaking your shirt there too, but you’re too busy starting to lose your shit to really notice.

This is happening.

“Liv,” Joel says, his voice softer now, cracking around your name. Your chest aches. You just got him back. You can’t leave him, you can’t go, you can’t turn into— “Liv.”

You sink into a crouch. You bury your face in your hands, feeling the tears pour down your face. It’s done. It’s over. There’s no getting out of this. I’ll deal with it, Joel said. Meaning he’ll deal with you, meaning he’ll put you down. Knife or bullet, bullet or knife. What’s the kinder way to go? What’s the better way to let the love of your life kill you?

Which one will haunt him less, when you’re gone?

It’s not fair.

But it’s happening all the same.

Joel sinks down with you, slides his bag from his shoulders. You peek between your fingers just enough to see him pulling out bandages, a bottle of water, an alcohol wipe.

“Don’t waste it on me,” you mumble, pushing at his hands when he reaches for you. There’s blood on your hands, streaked up your forearms. “Don’t, Joel.”

“Stop it,” he says, shaking his head. His hair’s gotten longer, you notice, watching the dark curls ruffle along his scalp. “I’m gonna fix it.”

“You can’t!”

You scramble back, out of his reach, until your back hits another shelf. The metal rattles, your skull along with it, and you pull your knees to your chest, wrap your arms around them. It makes your side sing with pain, but it just adds to the mix, to the riot in your head, the ache in your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely above a whisper. Your voice is thick with tears, and they won’t stop. You know they can’t stop. You can’t stop.

“Liv—”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

The bottle of water slides from Joel’s hands, and your eyes track it as it rolls across the floor. You don’t want to spend the time you have like this, hiding from him, keeping your distance. It’s not fair. You just got him back, just got comfortable. Why did you let yourself get comfortable?

You want to die in his arms, to breathe your last breath with his eyes on your face, you want to—

“I saw Anna.”

The name makes you stop short, your head snapping up, eyes glued to him. Your heart skips, you’re sure of it, every drop of blood inside you freezing for one singular moment. He stares back at you, those dark eyes impossibly shiny, lined with silver tears that haven’t fallen yet. 

“Anna?” you repeat. Are you going already? Is the fungus already in you, creeping up your spine, taking over your brain? You’re supposed to have more time, you’re supposed to—

“Anna, Liv. Anna, your sister. Six months after the outbreak. I saw her, when Tommy and I were on the road. Some makeshift shelter FEDRA set up in Cincinnati. She recognized me, nearly bowled me over when she saw me and Tommy.”

Your mouth drops open. “My…sister.” My sister, my baby sister, Anna, my little sister. Your mind whirls, Cowan’s voice in your head, the radio room before the walls went up. There is no record of Anna. Your heart is shattering in your chest, you’re sure of it. “She’s alive?”

His head drops. “A few of the soldiers got infected, started turning, started biting.” Joel swallows hard, and your eyes flick down as his throat bobs. “She got caught in the chaos, fuckin’ soldier bit her ankle. I put him down. And she hid it, at first, asked me and Tommy to get her to some guy outside the city. I can’t remember the name, said it was her boyfriend or something, I can’t…it doesn’t matter.

“We were planning to leave the shelter, trying to gather supplies to get the hell out of dodge, when she got caught. Someone walked in on her changing the bandage on her ankle, saw the bite, screamed for help. I tried to stop them, but FEDRA doesn’t take chances.”

“So they killed her,” you say, the words blunt, laced with tears.

“They took her away. I never saw a body.”

You shake your head, let your eyes drop closed. “Then why tell me, Joel?”

He slides across the tile to you, pulls at your limbs until your legs are spread either side of him, your arms limp in your lap. Before you can even try to shrink away, he’s got your face in his hands, wiping at your tears, warm palms pressed to your cheeks.

“It was three days, Liv. Three days between her getting bit and FEDRA taking her away. She never showed any signs, never turned, never fuckin’ twitched. She was immune. What if…” He leans forward until his forehead touches yours. “What if there’s a chance? What if you are too?”

Your mind is racing. The pain in your side throbs with every beat of your heart. You don’t have words, you can’t bring your lips to form them. Your brain offers up images, only making your thoughts move faster. The infection running rampant through you, replacing your blood stream, clogging your veins. Your sister, bruised by the outbreak, the loss of your parents — did she even know that they were dead? — but alive, those eyes bright as you remember them. 

Her ankle, Joel had said. The soldier bit her ankle. In your head, she hides the bite beneath thick socks, cleans it and pulls her jeans down over it. Her eyes snap to yours, big and filled with tears.

“It’ll be okay, Liv. Just wait.”

Wait. Wait it out, wait to lose your mind, wait to turn into one of them. Wait to feel like you’re not in control of your body anymore. Would it still be you, buried beneath all of that? Does the fungus keep you alive, turn you into a puppet, make you watch the harm you cause, the violence that ensues?

But Joel wouldn’t let it get that far, would he?

Knife or bullet, bullet or knife. What’s the better way to go?

Your mind cycles through everyone back in Boston, Tess, Tommy, Emily, Henry, Deanna. Hell, even Cowan shows up. You see their faces, hear their voices, immediately imagining the reactions when Joel tells them what happened. And Emily, she—

Your brow goes hard, more tears slipping down your cheeks.

Emily watched her father kill her mother, after he turned. In the mall, before the wall went up, when you were still considering leaving. Contaminated food, they said, moved you to the apartments, made you wait it out. Six other people turned, FEDRA put them down without batting an eye. But you never did. You’d ate the same food as Tim, Emily’s father, the night before he turned. You both wanted Thai, Marcy and the kids had soup instead. You still remember Emily’s giggles when you slurped your noodles.

But you never turned.

Anna’s voice is in your head again. It’ll be okay, Liv.

You curl your fingers in the collar of Joel’s shirt, pushing at his chest slightly, enough that he pulls back, enough that your watery eyes can meet his. “We wait it out,” you tell him, and his brow crumples completely, a sharp sob in your ear as he collects you into his arms. “If I start to turn, Joel, I swear to god, you put me down and you don’t think twice about it, you understand?” You keep your gaze on his face, watch his eyes slip closed, and he nods. “You put me down, and then you go back to Boston. All right? You promise me. You go back, and you tell everyone I’m sorry.”

“Liv—”

“Promise me, Joel.”

He swallows so hard his throat bobs.

“I promise.”

+

You wait it out.

Joel feels like he can’t breathe. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off you, doesn’t want to miss anything. He’s memorizing you, all over again, trying to paint you in his mind. Something clear, something pure.

Something to remember.

In case he’s wrong. In case he has to put a bullet in your head before the sun comes up. In case he’s about to lose you. He wants to remember you as you are, not what you might become. Alive, intact, whole.

Liv.

You let him tend to your wounds, after a bit of convincing. Joel cleans the blood from your skin slowly, meticulously, tapes the gauze to your shoulder, to your side. He clears out the office your attacker had been hiding in, makes it as comfortable as he can. He can feel you watch him, just like he’s watching you, and one it’s safe — as safe as it can be — he sinks down beside you, puts his arm around your shoulders, pulls you against his chest.

And waits.

There aren’t many words. You flinch with every sound that echoes through the city, the creak of buildings, the shrieks of the Infected. Joel shushes you each time, hauls you closer until you end up across his lap, one arm banded around your back, the other hooked behind your knees, keeping you close. Closer. As close as possible.

Eventually, it gets so quiet that he can hear the thump of your heart, feel the flutter of your lashes where you face is buried in his neck. He rubs his hand up and down your arm slow, pushes his nose into your hair. You stretch out a bit in his arms, roll your head onto his shoulder, your eyes shut.

“Sleepy.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest, darlin’. M’right here.”

You blink once, and your eyes are so shiny that Joel’s heart jumps in his chests. “What if I…?”

You trial off, the rest of the question left unsaid, but Joel finishes in his mind. What if you turn? What if you bite him? What if you take him down with you? He doesn’t care, he thinks, and is suddenly acutely aware of the ring sitting in his pocket.

“You won’t. I’ll stay awake. I won’t let you…I won’t let you turn, okay?” He leans down more, brushes a kiss across your mouth. You whimper, tightening your grip on his shirt. “I’m right here, Liv. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Your brow furrows as your eyes drop shut again, and Joel lifts his hand, drags his thumb over the crease in your skin. “I love you, Joel.”

He moves his thumb again, over and over until your face softens, but keeps it up even then. “Love you.”

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep. Knows he shouldn’t, knows he should be keeping an eye on you, but as the sky outside gets darker and darker, his lids get heavier and heavier. You’re a warm weight against him, your own eyes twitching as you dream, your breath hot on his neck. Dreams take hold of him — dreams, not nightmares — and he dreams of you, in a pretty white dress, his scavenged ring on your finger, a smile on your lips. He holds you in his mind, too, keeps you impossibly close, kisses you until he’s not sure where he ends and you begin.

And then he wakes.

To you.

To you, shoving at his shoulder, climbing into his lap, curling your fingers in his shirt. You’re crying, your hair a mess about your face, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself out of the dream version of you, to the real version.

“You were supposed to stay awake, you jackass!” you’re shouting, your voice breaking on the words. Your fist thumps against his chest. “I could have killed you! I could have—”

He’s very awake, suddenly. It’s…daytime. He can see the sunlight through the little window in the office door. Joel catches your wrists, stops you from hitting him again. You suck in a breath, freezing, and your head lifts, hair falling away from your face, fresh tears on your cheeks. He can’t stop himself from smiling, and his chest explodes with warmth when your grin matches his.

“But you didn’t.”

He pulls you against him, and you kiss the air from his lungs. Your mouth is hot and insistent on his, yanking your hands from his grip so you can dive them into his hair. His own drop to your waist, curling around your hips, pulling you closer, closer, closer.

You’re alive. You’re you.

He’d sit there and let you kiss him all day, but the echo of an Infected scream makes you both freeze, and his instincts kick into gear. With one last kiss, you disentangle from each other. Joel’s back screams in protest from sleeping sat up against the wall all night, and he groans as he gets to his feet, helps you to yours. You wince at the movement, one hand gripping your side, and Joel inspects you, lifts the hem of your shirt and peels the bandage back.

He’s seen bites before. Seen the strange, spidery lines the spread from them, the infection curling beneath the skin like a raised tattoo. Your wound is still angry, still seeping blood, but not enough to soak through the bandage. You might need stitches, Joel’s not sure. You wince again as he presses it back into o place, smooths his fingers along the tape.

“We need to get you home.”

You just nod, leaning against him, and he kisses your temple. The relief in the air is palpable, unbridled joy laced with nerves and worry. You have to keep this a secret, that much Joel knows. He still remembers the terror on Anna’s face, when they took her away. He tried to fight them, tried to stop it, but they put a gun to his head, to Tommy’s. Anna told him to stand down, to let her go, and then she was gone.

He won’t let them take you. Never.

It’s slow going. He takes you out the back way of the drugstore, avoiding the bodies littered at the front. Joel’s learned the city a little more with each run, he knows your shortcuts, the long and short ways, the quickest way back to the QZ in a pinch. He knows which routes you favour, which ones are last on your list.

He keeps your fingers laced with his, lets you lean into him as you walk. The pain you’re feeling is clear, but you grit your teeth and carry on, squeezing his hand tighter every few miles. He asks you if you need to stop a few times, and each time, you just shake your head.

It’s even slower, getting back over the wall. It’s midday, by the time you’re nearing the gate, and the ideal path — the one that takes you right under the wall — is too dangerous in broad fucking daylight. So you take the same path you’d lead Joel and Tess in with. Your chest is heaving by the time you reach the top, and Joel lifts the hem of your shirt to see you’ve bled through the bandage, drops of blood sliding down your hip.

You stop inside, Joel forcing you to wait a goddamn second so he can clean you up, replace the bandage. He grits his teeth; he can’t take you to the clinic, can’t involve Deanna in this. Can’t involve anyone in this.

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Corporal Nick fucking Cowan is standing at the mouth of the alley, gun hefted in his hands as Joel lands on the pavement, holding his arms out as you climb slowly down the ladder of the fire escape. It’s a good five foot drop down, and he knows even landing on your feet isn’t gonna feel great.

Joel stumbles back as you drop, your boots sliding against the asphalt. He tries to support your weight as much as he can, and you let out a sound that’s not so much a wince as a sob. You bury your hand in your side, gripping tight as he slides his arm around your waist. 

“Nick,” you breathe out, and Joel looks up to see the soldier glance down the road before jogging towards you, concern on his face.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, and you heave a breath, your head lolling onto Joel’s shoulder. “Tess came to find me last night, asked if I’d seen you, if you’d gotten yourselves thrown in lockup.” His brow hardens as he looks at you, looks at Joel. “You were out all night?”

Joel tightens his grip on you. “Didn’t plan it like that.”

“We got cornered by a fucking horde of them,” you breathe out, hissing as you take a step forward. Cowan holds a hand out to you and you wave him off. “I got…”

You trail off, and Joel bristles, scared you’re gonna say it.

Bit.

Cowan wants answers, pressing harder, and Joel can see how he’s inspecting you, his eyes darting all over you. “You what, Liv?”

“I got hurt, asshole,” you spit through gritted teeth, trying to angle yourself away from him. “Is that really not obvious?”

“I’ll take you to the clinic,” Cowan says instantly, and reaches for you again. Joel nearly growls. He knows you made your peace or whatever, but he still doesn’t like the guy. Doesn’t like that he acts like he’s got some kind of claim on you. “Deanna’s working, she can—”

“No,” you both say at the same time, nearly shouting, and Cowan takes a step back, staring between you, trying to meet your eyes. Joel can see it, the wheels working in the soldier’s head. You straighten a bit, staring back at Cowan. “I’m fine, I just wanna get home.”

For a minute, Joel thinks Cowan will accept the answer. He pulls you tighter against him, tries to sidestep the soldier, taking you with him. But he’s still blocking your path, and everything in Joel turns over as he reaches for the handgun on his hip.

“Show me.”

You freeze, your entire body going taut in Joel’s grip. “What?”

Cowan doesn’t lift the gun, but Joel sees his thumb pull back the hammer, cocking it. He reaches for his own gun.

“Nick, what’re you—” you start, but then the soldier lifts his gun, aiming for you.

Joel steps in front of you, shielding you with his body, holding an arm out, lifting his pistol, aiming right back at Cowan. “Cowan, stop it,” Joel grits, and the soldier just stares back, his eyes wide.

“You are the last fucking person who gets to give me orders.”

“I know that,” Joel replies, and lifts both his hands, something like surrender. He points his gun at the sky, feels your hand curl around his hip. “I know you hate me. I’d hate me too, if roles were reversed, and I don’t expect you to do me any fuckin’ favours. But I know you care about her. So, please. Do this for her.”

The gun wobbles slightly, but Cowan shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“Please, Nick,” Joel hears you say, a waver in your voice, your nails biting into his skin. “Please, just let us go. We’ll leave the city, we can just—”

“No!” Cowan shouts, the sound echoing down the alley. “You know I can’t.”

“Nick, please,” you say again, and the gun wobbles again, Joel moving to put himself in front of it, to keep it away from you.

“Put the gun down, Cowan,” Joel says, his hands still in the air, trying to force reason into his voice. “Just put it down, we can fix this, we can talk this out, just—”

“Shut up!” Cowan yells, and Joel’s heart is in his throat. “You don’t deserve her, Joel. Look what you did, you put her in harm’s way, over and over and over again. You nearly got her killed, and still she chooses you over me.” 

“Nick, stop—” you cry, and Joel can hear the tears in your voice. The gun points at you again, and anger, fear, terror rises in Joel’s gut. He points his gun back at Cowan, finger twitching on the trigger.

“You don’t fucking deserve her.”

“And you do?”

Joel’s not sure which one of them fires first.

PREV | NEXT

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

[bts-trash-blog]

Best Of Us Hidden Moments

A Moment Between Chapter 20 and 21: So You’d Want More

Summary: just little moments that I thought up after posting a chapter or just didn't flow like I wanted to

Pairing: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby Omega!Reader

Warning: A/O/B!Vers, angst, fluff, smut(all the warnings on the main story tbh)

AN: No taglist as of now for this little sub-series of Best Of Us. Wanna mainly focus onto the main story. Will be trying to post this in between chapter in no logical order tbh they're just gonna be tossed out there. 

...._.Next

You were nervous-fingers typing away on an essay that you honestly had no clue on how to write. Yet here you were-winging it- teeth slightly grinding and you swear you were sweating. Yoongi was typing away his eyes casting to the paper files then back to his desk top- after he had asked you out on a date you had instantly fallen into a slightly awkward yet comfortable silence. You had finished what little work Jin had given you- having argued that you could handle more yet the older Alpha shook his head and huffed that you had a paper to write. An economics paper- the dreaded paper one that you only had a title page for and nothing else. The five page paper that was due by the end of the night. You were at this point just bullshitting half of the stuff you were writing and you couldn’t help the anxious laughter as you suddenly dropped your head down into your arms. Groaning.

“Pup?” Yoongi mumbles, making you shake your head as your laughter slightly grows as you move to sit back up as you look at him- his head slightly tilting as his slick back hair slightly moves as he sits back away from his computer. His eyes were moving from you to your computer screen and his smile grew as he watched you pout. “What is it?”

“I hate Economics-and yeah I get it it is very important for this career but still- it feels pointless.” You ramble as he chuckles “And this paper-this paper is literally gonna drive me to jump out your window- I don't understand the topic I was given let alone whatever-that mess I’ve written.” You finished with a huff, eyes closing arms crossing over your chest as you hear him inhale- the sound of his chair rolling right next to yours, his body heat radiating off of him onto you as his arms slid across the back of your chair, the other gripping your laptop and scrolling up.

“Let me see if I can help.” He mumbled making your nod as you unconsciously leaned your head against his shoulder making him tense up slightly-which in turn made you inhale and lift your head. Though his hand lands on your shoulder and slides up your neck making you look over as he smiles at you.

“Sorry I just wasn't ready for that, come back here." he whispered, making you smile as you moved to rest your head back on his shoulder. His hand is still pressing against your neck- his thumb running against your scent gland as he reads through your works-half chuckling at certain parts and then he stops and removes his hand from your neck, sliding it under you and reaching around to the keyboard to delete and retype a sentence. “That was worded horrible-how are you a senior in college.”

“I'm second in my class.”

“If they saw the sentences that would change everything.” He mumbles a teasing tone as you smack his leg making him chuckle as you feel lips press to the top crown of your head. “Also if this is you bullshiting I really want to read a paper of yours actually trying. I can see why you’re top of your class.”

“Second.” You grumbled making him huff as he stopped scrolling and moved his hand to your thigh.

“I know the only reason why you’re second and not first is because you’re an omega-so you to me are top of the class.” His words had your face heating up- your mind going hazy as you let out a soft purr like sound making him chuckle as you pull away and clear your throat, though he doesn't let you get far. “Hey-hey look at me-well hello there baby.” he muttered when seeing how dilated your eyes were-it had you closing your eyes, hands reaching to cover your face but his hands caught your wrist. “Oh no don't hide.” He chuckled his minty breath fanning your face as you felt the tip of his nose against yours as his lips gently brush against yours. “You’re fucking adorable.” he mumbled arms wrapping around you after he had turned your chair towards him. His nose brushed into your hair as you awkwardly bent forward.

“Small.” you whispered, making him chuckle again as he pulls back hand moving to your neck, thumb at the base of your chin as his pointer fingers brushes against your ear. It had you whining as he smiled at you. “Stopppp.” You whine making his laughter grow even more.

“Comeback-then we’ll work on this paper together okay? I’ll be your wall to bounce ideas off of.” nodding you let yourself breath-closing your eyes as you tried to focus on you. The way your clothes move against your skin, your hair was being slightly tugged at by the hair tie-the way his skin burned yours. It had you opening your eyes and blinking rapidly as you huff at the Alpha in front of you-his half gummy smile as his brown eyes stared into you. The feeling of his hand back at the base of your neck-brushing agasing against your scent gland really wasn't helping you ground yourself.

“Stop.” You grumbled, arms moving to push his hand away as he bites a laugh- his head shaking as he dropped his hand from your neck-though the moment his body heat wasn't against yours you felt this overwhelming feeling of sadness-of fear. His eyes widened as your sweet  cookie scent started to burn as he quickly moved back in front of you-hand placing itself right back at the base of your neck, thumb moving across your skin as he pressed his forehead against yours. It had your scent changing- sweetening back up as he chuckles at you.

“Though you knew how to control your drops without an Alpha." His teasing words came after a couple of minutes of the two of you justin sitting there-it had you huffing eyes opening-mind clear as you pushed his hand off of your neck as you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t make me rethink going on that date.”

“Oh no whatever shall I do-” he mumbles sarcastically, making you swat at his arm as he let out a soft chuckle as he grabbed the bottom of your chair moving his legs apart so he could roll you and your chair between them. Squishing your knees in the process. “My little Alpha heart can’t take the thought.” He pauses, eyes locked with yours as his hands resting on your thigh as you let out a shaky breath-his hand sliding up your thigh the feeling of his warm calloused hand against your skin had you shivering. Your inner omega rolling on her back- submitting- yet you fell frozen. “Of you not with me tonight.” He mumbled his fingers drawing shapes as he kept his eyes locked on yours. “Just pains me to my core.” His lips suddenly touch yours, his hand squeezing as you let out the most drawn out whine you’ve ever heard. It had him chuckling as he pulled away.

“Why’d you stop?”

“So you’d want more.” He shrugged, making you huff as he pushed you back to your original spot. Rolling next to you as he smiled at you. “Now let's get this paper finished.”

#bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x plus size reader #bts x chubby reader #bts poly #bts poly a/o/b #bts poly werewolf #bts alpha yoongi #bts omegaverse #bts omega reader #bts omegaverse au #bts bou #bou #best of us #bts trash blog

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Hiii! New day new chapter! Sorry it took so long to get out, my birthday is in Sunday so I’ve been busy. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, slight mentions of wounds.

Word count: 2k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 8: No, I don't wanna fall in love with you.

—

Swinging around the city always helped clear Miguel's head, finding it very calming compared to the very chaotic hustle and bustle of Neuva York. From the top of the Empire State, everyone looked like ants, and it gave him the ability to de-mask himself without the possibility of anyone finding him. It was one of the many perks of being Spider-Man, the ability to hide away above the rest of the world.

Although, usually the breathtaking skyline against orange and pink hues that painted the sky was enough to serve as a temporary distraction before he had to return to his usual routine, but it seems that today’s events were too much for his mind to just drop. With a heavy sigh, he ran his gloved hand through his now slightly disheveled brown locks, gripping his mask with his free hand.

God…

As if you hadn't already dug some sort of permanent spot into his life, now you were completely messing with his mind without even knowing it.

He shouldn’t have kissed you back. Not because he didn’t want to, because if he was being completely honest with himself… maybe he did. But, you’ve never liked him, you’ve never liked Miguel. He’s convinced himself his whole life that he disliked you, not just because of your constant battle at attempting to one up each other grade wise, but because you both were far too stubborn and egotistical to be able to sit in a room with each other without squabbling. He’s never been partially nice to you, sure, but neither have you to him. He hated you.

Right?

He wasn’t so sure anymore. But he knew for certain how you felt about him. You loved Spider-Man, not Miguel. And although he knows he’s being a bit selfish, and only going to hurt himself in the process, he was gonna keep it that way. He’d take all the snarky comments and glares you shoot his way, if it meant being able to kiss you again. He’d shatter the entire universe in his bare hands if it meant for you to keep kissing him the way that you did.

—

“O’Hara, hey- are you deaf now or something?” Your hand landing on his shoulder pulls him out from his thoughts, he’s been in them more often than usual lately he glanced over his shoulder to send you a quick glare before turning back down at his notebook. His eyes scan over the words on the page but none of them registered in his mind. He felt your finger tapped on his shoulder. “You can’t keep ignoring me. We have to work on this project, you know.” You huffed quietly, your eyes drifting from the back of his head, to the front of the class to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching and back again. “You’ve been skipping out on practice.” This was the second time today you’ve tried to get him to talk to you, and still he doesn’t give you anything but a glare, the cold shoulder, it was insufferable. The biggest thorn in your side had decided to just remove itself at the worst time, two weeks away from the presentation of the scene project.

With a huff, you sat fully in your seat once more and looked back down at your own book. Just deciding to attempt to catch him after class again, but the more the time ticked away the more your agitation towards him grew. This was somewhat odd behavior for him. He hasn’t flat out ignored you since you had been in the 7th grade, the most you’ve gotten out of him as of recent is his usual glare or scowl. You’d never admit to his face, but him ignoring, it almost felt like torture. You have no idea what you did for him to suddenly give you the cold shoulder, a week ago at the aquarium before your sudden graze with death, you had thought that you both somewhat gotten along for once. Now he goes out of his way to dodge you in the halls or leave your texts on read, you couldn’t help but feel that same small sinking feeling in your chest that you felt when you first tried talking to him in the 6th grade only for him to scoff and turn up his nose at you. If it weren’t for the fact you had to work on this stupid project together, you probably wouldn’t be so persistent.

Or, at least that’s what your telling yourself.

—

8:45pm.

Miguel was currently an hour and 15 minutes late to yours and his study session, not like he showed anymore anyways. At least he could justify the nagging voice in the back of his brain telling him to go to your dorm by telling himself that patrolling was a better use of his time and resources, and way less of a headache then having to deal with you when you’re pissed off.

Thankfully, the streets of Neuva York were relatively calm, no crazy mastermind villains trying to take over the world, just a few pity crimes here and there, not enough for him to actually break a sweat but just enough to not be able to call it a night just yet. Small vandalism, an attempted mugging, helping an elderly lady cross the road, small more simpler tasks. With each one ignoring the small inconsistent yet slightly irritating buzzing that his phone was releasing in his suit pocket.

11 missed calls, and 24 unseen messages. His gloved thumb slowly scrolled through the preview of the messages as he took a small break on top of a random counter rooftop, his free hand pulling his mask up to just above his nose before going to grab the BLT sandwich from the bodega and taking a bite out of it. Each chew and swallow becomes slower the more he nears finishing the sandwich. Telling himself he’d finally suck it up and face the music, the migraine inducing headache that was your scolding.

As he downs the last bite, he clicks on your contact, finger itching to hit the call button.

“Help!”

“Shit…” He mumbled to himself as he quickly pulled himself up on his feet, stashing his phone away once more before his mask was back over his mouth.

He’ll call you afterwards, he tells himself.

—

9:38pm.

He flaked. Again.

“I’m not surprised, still disappointed though.” You mumble to yourself as you go to change out of your school clothes and into a nice pair of sweats and a sleeping shirt, placing your headphones on to listen to some music, it’s still early enough so you decided to get some reading in. Stretching your arms over your head, before going over to your bookshelf, your fingernails tapping the spine of each book until you reach the one you wanted to read.

Setting back into your bed, after turning off your overhead light and turning on your lamp instead, you finally open up on the page that you left off.

“Now you must have a good long holiday!”

“I intend to.”

Something in his resolute tone made Jo look up quickly to find him looking down at her with an expression that assured her the dreaded moment had come, and made her put out her hand with an imploring, “No, Teddy. Please don’t!”

“I will, and you must hear me. It’s no use, Jo, we’ve got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us,” he answered, getting flushed and excited all at one.

Tap tap.

“Say what you like then, I’ll listen,” said Jo, with a desperate sort of patience.

Laurie was a young lover but he was in earnest, and meant to ‘have it out’, if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choke now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady…

Tap tap.

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Jo, couldn’t help it, you've been so good to me. Now I’m going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can’t go on so any longer.”

“I wanted to save you this-“

Tap tap.

“Is someone throwing rocks at my window or something?” You quickly close your book after rebookmarking your page, trying to wave off the idea, your on one of the higher levels of the building. So being able to accurately hit the window over and over would be difficult.

Placing your book on the side of your bed, you get up and go to draw your curtains back, only to be met with a familiar blue and red mask popping up in your window pane. Your brows shot up and biting back the urge to let out a small startled yelp, your hands made quick work to unlock your window and open it up to allow him to climb in, trying his best to not knock over all the trinkets on your bedside table. Trying your best to stifle your laugh as you watch him crawl all over the tiny surface like a cat.

“I didn’t realize we were at that level, Spider-Man.” You joked, letting a small chuckle slip past your lips as he finally stumbled onto his feet and off the counter. Your laughs only increased as you watched the red lines on his mask narrow as he seemingly glared at you.

“Says the one who kissed me.”

“Touché.” You said only you were able to eventually stop laughing, allowing your eyes to finally scan over him. Your face quickly contouring into one of concern when you finally noticed the large tear on the side of his left hip, along with a bleeding bash. You must have not noticed it by the way he was bending over. Your hand flys to cover your mouth as you stare at it, it wasn’t life threatening, but it sure as hell looked painful. “Oh my god, what happened!?”

“Oh this? Pff, it’s nothing” His left hand goes to cover the gash from your view as his right hand goes to wave the question of, his tone nonchalantly as if he had just gotten a paper cut. Now it’s your turn to glare at him.

“Can you let me help you patch it up at least?” You asked, but you were already guiding him to sit on your half done bed. “I’m not a medic or anything, but I can at least clean it up so it doesn’t get infected.” You added, going towards your bathroom to search for your first aid kid that all the dorms had.

Once you found the kit, and didn’t hear any protest from the spider, you made your way down to your knees to his left and began to clean up the wound, murmuring a silent apology when he winced from the rubbing alcohol making context with the wound.

“…You must get tired of having to always clean yourself up and restitch your suit all the time huh?” You finally broke the silence,tossing the blood and alcohol soaked cotton in your small trash can.

“It’s…yeah, sorry about, badgering in and stuff, I wouldn’t have stopped by if I didn’t think I couldn’t make it home.” His admission made your heart sink a bit, but it wasn’t completely true, his building was another few minutes of a swing from yours, and his brother always helped him clean up after a nasty fight.

Miguel just wanted an excuse to see you and talk to you again.

“You’ve saved my life twice, Spider-Man. You are always welcome to stop by if you need help.” You tell him ernstly as you wiped off the last bit of blood off his hip, before going to place wrapping on the area.

“Thank you…” He whispered, his tone just as gentle as it was the first time he spoke to you when he reassured you he wouldn’t let you go.

“Of course.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #love me or hate me fanfic #academic rivals au #atsv miguel #miguel ohara spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #miguel x reader

[sassylegshayne]

marry me, idiot - chapter three

okay, I'm sorry this took so long, but like I've been saying!!! I'm updating as I finish, which isn't something I've done before, so it might be a bit longer between updates!! I hope you guys enjoy this!! 💓 2.7k words

series masterlist

It seemed like everyone in the office has crammed themselves into the Pit shooting area.

The set led you to believe that you might've been playing Beopardy, but the questions board was nowhere in sight.

You and Spencer were situating yourselves on a set of stools in the middle of the table, two stools on your right and two more on Spencer's left.

Shayne stood in front of the table, conversing with Kiana as he prepared to host, making sure his mic pack was on.

Your partner in crime and you began whisper yelling at Kiana, trying desperately to get her attention, both of you wanting answers.

"What are Rhett and Link doing here?" You hissed, palms flat on the table as you leaned across with wide eyes. Spencer nodded vigorously beside you, his eyes widened as well.

"Okay, lan wanted to do a newlyweds game with you guys and a few other sets of best friends, just ones that aren't engaged." You two nodded along as Kiana spoke. "So when he went to lunch with Rhett and Link today, he told them the idea and they loved it. Bossman swapped this shoot with another Pit shoot. We weren't planning on doing this for months." Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You nodded, brows still furrowed in confusion.

"That's great, I'll probably strangle lan later, but why are Rhett and Link here, like right now?" You spoke in a hush, your eyes darting frantically from where the duo stood to Kiana.

"Well, they said they had the free time to watch it, but I think Ian may have asked them to join you guys, so.." Kiana grinned awkwardly, knowing how quickly your faces would drop from showing any semblance of happiness. Ki thanked her lucky stars as Lizzy called out to her, allowing her an excuse to leave you two. "Spence, we really have to sell this, I don't wanna disappoint the work dads." You took his hand in yours, squeezing softly as you angled yourself toward him as he sighed, nodding his head.

"I didn't expect them to care this much, honestly." He chuckled as a clap on his shoulder causing him to jump.

"Congrats you crazy kids!" Link cheered, grinning as he looked between the two of you. "Marriage is so exciting and y'all are just marrying your best friend; y'all are gonna be so happy together." He laughed, pushing his glasses up a bit as both of your cheeks tinged bright pink.

You bashfully thanked him, making small talk between the three of you before Brennan called for places.

Spencer let out a sigh of relief when the Mythical duo sat on the stools closest to you, the ones beside him still left empty.

Rhett whispered a congratulations and squeezed your shoulder as he walked behind you. You turned to your right, met with grins and thumbs up from the both of them.

After a bit of bullshitting with the crew, Noah and Keith finally strolled in about half an hour later, quickly taking their stools beside Spence's. You two found this game to be quite easy, sitting beside each other for eight years and helped you two pull far ahead of the other's.

Rhett and Link gave your pair another round of congratulations as they said their goodbyes.

Shayne finally got a free moment to talk to the two of your after you'd removed your mic pack, handing it off to Brennan.

"You guys did great, with the show and the show you put on." Shayne chuckled, keeping his voice quiet as you laughed, a blush creeping on to your cheeks as Spencer laughed.

You and Spencer had blown everyone out of the water from he very beginning, nailing every question. Eventually you two settled on bullshit answers, allowing the other's to catch up a bit. You still managed to rack up 24 points, Koah with 17, and the Mythical duo had 15.

The three of you said your goodbyes and went your separate ways. As you and Spencer headed toward your office space, you intertwined your fingers with his, grinning brightly at him.

Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze and smiled back.

You continued through your routine in comfortable silence; there was a mutual understanding that today had been a lot on both of you, more than you had expected.

You said your goodbyes to a few people before Brennan halted you, calling you over to his desk, Spencer not far behind you.

You two looked at the monitor over the taller man's shoulders, a smile blooming over your cheeks and a blush across Spencer's cheeks. You didnt know what to say, the picture was so perfect. The screen was taken up by a shot from this morning.

You stood with your arms wrapped around Spencer's shoulders in the photo, his around your waist, your foreheads pressed together as you smile at each other.

Spencer wanted that picture tattooed on the inside of his brain. You both looked at each other with so much love, it was so much better than any of you had expected.

"Say something, please. Ki and Alex were about to cry when I showed them." Brennan chuckled, glancing at Spencer, who meets him with a massive grin.

"That's amazing, Bren. I can't believe it." Spencer gripped his friends shoulder softly, the excitement buzzing through him as the next picture appeared.

You gasped softly, pouting your bottom lip out. It was a shot of your left hand outstretched, your fingertips gently pressing against Spencer's as your ring shown in the early morning light.

"Okay," Brennan closed the tab as you huffed, Spencer scoffing a bit. "I can't show you anymore, Rachel has to pick out which ones were gonna use, then send you guys everything."

You two did attempt to protest, but Brennan shut his monitor off, putting an end to any further arguments.

You had every intention of dropping Spencer off at his apartment and then leaving, but your bladder had other plans.

You left the bathroom wiping the residual water on your hands off on your pants, smiling brightly at Spencer as he sat at his desk, an absurd amount of tabs opened on his laptop.

"I know there's gonna be a budget for this wedding thing but can we put up money for it if we want to?" Spencer asked as you approached him, resting your head on shoulder as he clicks through various different shotgun wedding chapels in Los Angeles.

"I mean, I don't see why we can't, but what exactly are we paying for Spence?" You chuckled as he leaned back in the chair, turning to press a soft kiss to your cheek. He closed his laptop and set it aside, patting his desk as an invitation for you to sit.

He rolled his chair back as you sat, scooting himself a little closer again, sitting just between your legs, his hands on your knees as he grinned up at you.

"Okay, this is just an idea, so hear me out." You nodded slowly, used to hearing Spencer's ridiculous ideas out. You were normally very encouraging of anything he'd presented, but now that you were gonna be directly effected, again, by this one, you were understandably hesitant.

"l'm thinking that we can rent out a little wedding chapel for the day and shoot the actual wedding. I'm trying to contact a few and see if we'd be allowed to film in the first place, but basically, we can rent out a chapel, have the whole shebang of a shotgun wedding, and we end with saying 'I don't' instead." He grinned, shaking your legs softly as he sat back in the chair.

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours as he watched the gears turning, knowing that every outcome of this was running through your mind. Eventually you shrugged, laughing softly.

"Email the idea to Ki, lan, and Lizzy to make sure they're all cool with it and then we can look into it,"

You punctuated your sentence with a smile and a nod, Spencer springing from his seat to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

"I can't wait to not marry you dude." He chuckled, grinning as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in tighter.

"What if we did get married, though?" You laughed, biting your lip as Spencer pulled away, a puzzled look on his face.

"Well, like, for the benefits, like we planned to before. I'm not looing for anyone and you said you weren't either, so what do we have to lose? It'd be kinda fun to pull one over on the office, too, yanno." You explained as you felt your cheeks quickly redden, never before had you noticed Spencer's eyes quite like this. You followed as he gazed you over, his baby blue's seemed to take in every detail of your body before his eyes met yours again.

You took a deep breath, shuffling in your seat and straightening your back. Goddamnit, Spencer didn't make it easy to be his best friend when he did things like that.

All you wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him until he was all you could taste, smell, feel. You wanted so badly to tangle your fingers in his hair as you two became a mess of limbs and moans. You didn't want anyone touching him like that for the rest of his life.

This was the closest you could get to that.

The tax break was a far thought in your mind as you felt your grip at the edge of his desk tighten, your nails dragging across the laminate.

Spencer sighed, his heart racing as he ran his hands through his hair, tugging a bit at the roots. You began to swing your feet, pulling his attention back to you once more.

How was he supposed to say yes? How was he meant to tell you just how badly he wanted to actually marry you, to wake up with you every single day for the rest of his life?

He was holding out hope, he still is; one day, you'll admit it, that you're so madly in love with Charles Spencer Agnew. It'll happen, he's just gotta hope.

"Yeah, fuck it, let's do it."

A grin quickly spread across his face as he nodded. You quickly jumped to your feet, tackling him into a hug as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, a grin on his face, too.

"Marry me, idiot" Spencer chuckled, squeezing you tighter.

"I will, Spence." You looked up to him, slowly breaking your embrace, his eyes scanning your face with a soft smile on his lips.

You yawned, rubbing your eyes as you leaned back into your desk chair. Maybe those blue light glasses would be wortha shot because, fuck, did your eyes hurt. Staring at a screen with the same audio clips on loops, the same frames all day long should be a special form of torture.

You heart aches as you glance to your left, the blank monitor and empty chair cause your poor mood.

You had to thank Spencer later, his absence allowing your mind to wander into thoughts of your empty stomach and quest for food. You stretch a bit as you move from your seat, slowly making your way toward the office kitchen. It wasn't uncommon to see Garrett in the shared space.

He grinned as soon as you entered the kitchen, spotting you through the window, causing your smile to drop. He was making what seemed like a normal sandwich, but with Garrett there was no telling what he'd done to it by now.

"I'm not tasting whatever you're making, Garrett." You held your palm up as you maneuver around him, moving to search the fridge for any of Spencer's leftovers or a freebie up for grabs.

"No, it's about a games video, don't worry." Garret laughed as he continued to prepare what you could only hope was his own lunch. You grinned, spotting Spencer's Panda Express lo mein from the day before, your fingers wrapping around the box. He's used to Kiana or you stealing his food, he wouldn't mind.

"I'll hear you out." You nodded toward the tables just outside the kitchen as you grab a fork, leaving the room just as quickly as you'd entered it.

You took up a spot at a small table in the corner, kicking out the chair for Garrett as he followed behind you.

The two of you ate in silence, enjoying the small moment of quiet in such a rambunctious office space.

"So, Shayne and Spencer wrapped on their game earlier than we expected, so would you be able to shoot a video today?" He questioned, eyes not meeting yours once as you spoke, his words purposefully vague.

You cocked a brow at him, stabbing at the noddles as you thought over your day. It wouldn't take you too long to finish up the Pit video you were working on, and it didn't need to be up for another week. You just liked to be head of schedule.

"Sure, Garrett, I'm gonna assume you don't want to tell me what the video is going to be and will accept whatever fate awaits me." You nodded curtly, pulling a laugh from the man before you.

You finished up your food, the both of you entering the Games' shooting room to find Spencer glued to the screen, the mouse moving and clicking constantly.

He grinned as he peaked over the screen, his eyes immediately finding yours.

"Oh good, now you can come be lonely with me." He laughed as you slid into the chair beside him, your eyes rolling.

"Wow, Sims 4, Spencer? Are you ill?" You chuckled, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead.

"There was a wedding expansion pack recently and thought it'd be fun to have our wedding in the Sims first." He explained as he clicked arounda bit.

"Look!" He grinned as he pointed at the screen, eagerly awaiting your approval as you grinned. Spencer had created a Sims version of the both of you, quickly sliding the keyboard and mouse toward you.

"Okay, plan your wedding outfit. Whatever you want to wear, babe." He pressed his lips to your warm cheek, your lip tugged between your lip as you tried to conceal your grin.

You picked your outfit, deciding on a simple dress and heels as the crew gave you the thumbs up, signaling the begging of recording.

"Howdy all," Spencer laughed as you groaned, looking to him with a furrowed brow. "Today, my lovely fiancee and have decided to have our Sims wedding."

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you turned toward the camera. "Obviously because The Sims is the most realistic representation of how our actual wedding would go."

"It's definitely not because I have a problem." Spencer scoffed, holding his hands up as defended himself.

The whole thing went to shit extremely quickly, but you couldn't care less. The Sims wedding was a horrific disaster, as most things with the game seem to go.

None of your guests would sit, your Sims wouldn't cut the cake, Sim Spencer peed his pants, and a fire started.

You wanted to focus, to feel more into the video but you couldn't. Spencer had decided to let you control the game, allowing him plenty of time to stare at you, lean into your side, place his hand on your thigh just out of frame.

Your heart was thumping harder against your ribcage with each flirtatious move he made. But it wasn't actually flirtatious. It was for the video, for the fake relationship you two were caught in.

Spencer was riding on a high of happiness at this point. Everytime a camera was on the two of you, he'd get to do the things he'd been dreaming of.

One day he'd get to hold you, kiss you, touc you in every way he's wanted to for years.

One day, just not today.

#ah its so cute #seriously tho please bare w me #idk when chapter four is coming #i haven't even started it get #yet* #anyways #mine #smosh #shayne topp #damien haas #smosh au #smosh games #shayne #shayne topp imagine #damien haas imagine #spencer agnew imagine #spencer agnew x reader #spencer #spencer agnew smut #spencer agnew #smosh spencer #smosh imagine #kiana parker #garrett palm

[chans-room]

Calling the Shots

Pairing: College basketball captain Yoongi x female reader

Genre: pure fluff/college au

Warnings: Seokjin is a lovable thot who kicks Yoongi out to hook up with people, pining from Yoongi, reader gets called a bitch by a rando, if I forgot anything let me know!!

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: This is part of a new series I’ve been working on for a while, and its mostly gonna come out in short pieces like this. I hope you like it :)

Next

---

Meet by the scoreboard. Is it ok if someone joins us for dinner? She’s cool, dw

Yoongi read over the text as he stepped out of the locker room, scoffing as he walked. Leave it to Jin to turn a casual after-game dinner between roommates into an event. He really only hoped the poor girl wasn’t one of Jin’s latest conquests; he was exhausted and didn’t want to spend hours in the student lounge waiting for her to leave their joined room in tears so he could finally get some sleep.

Yoongi groaned, pushing past well wishers with a tight smile as he made his way across the court to the scoreboard. He didn’t see his broad shouldered friend anywhere, but found a girl, dressed in all black with her back turned to him.

A group of guys were surrounding her as she lounged on the bleachers, looking unimpressed as they spoke to her. “Come on, sweet thing, just give me a smile,” one of them leered at her, making her roll her eyes.

“Honestly, just fuck off,” she scoffed, directing her attention back to her phone.

“Hey, I’m talking to you—“ one of them said, moving to snatch her phone out of her hands.

“She told you to fuck off,” Yoongi said blankly, grabbing the guy by his wrist, “So I suggest you fuck off.”

“Whatever man, she’s an uptight bitch anyway,” one of them huffed as they dispersed, leaving Yoongi alone with her.

“Thank you,” she beamed at him, her eyes turning into little crescents as she scrunched her nose. “That was really nice of you, I was actually super uncomfortable.”

Yoongi could feel his face heating as he stared at her; she was by far the cutest girl he’d ever seen. She looked so pretty his hands started to shake as he stared at her.

The pure apathy on her face when she’d been surrounded by the other guys had been alluring, even from a distance. But now, her presence warmed him, her smile etching itself into his brain.

“O-oh, no problem,” he smiled back, “I’m—“

“Yoongo Boongo!” Jin’s voice boomed in the nearly empty gym, cutting him off. “I see you met my little sunspot,” he grinned as he walked up to them. The girl rolled her eyes, standing up from her spot on the bleachers to let Jin envelop her in a hug.

“I told you not to call me that,” Yoongi huffed before focusing on the girl now buried in Jin’s embrace, willing his chest to unclench at their closeness. “Min Yoongi, Jin’s roommate. I’m assuming you’re the one Jin texted me about?”

She smiled prettily, reaching her hand out to him as she removed herself from Jin’s arms as she told him her name. Yoongi found himself wanting her to be tucked into him like she’d just been with Jin, but settled for her small hand warming his cold, pale one. “It’s really nice to meet you! Jinnie keeps telling me about his sourpuss roommate, but you don’t seem too bad. I think someone has been exaggerating,” she teased Jin.

“See, this is why I haven’t introduced you two,” Jin complained. “I know you’re going to gang up on me and pretend like I’m the bad guy. But here we are. And daddy’s hungry, so let’s get a move on.”

“If you ever call yourself daddy again I will actually have to kill you,” she deadpanned, glaring at Jin, and Yoongi felt his fingertips go numb in excitement for her rejection of Jin’s fuckboy charms, before turning back toward Yoongi. “I know for a fact Jinnie promised you a celebratory dinner, so let’s go and make him pay for all our food.”

“You little gremlins! You would take advantage of me like that?“ Jin shouted as she looped her arm through Yoongi’s with another bright smile, pulling him toward the exit of the gym.

Yoongi knew he’d let her drag him anywhere she wanted as long as she smiled at him like that again. “So how do you know my roommate?” He asked lamely, making his ears warm, but her bell-like laugh filled his head and replaced all the self deprecating thoughts that began to creep in on him.

“Jinnie has always been around. Our families were close growing up. He’s like a brother to me,” she beamed, not knowing how her admission made his heart race.

Yoongi knew he usually never stood a chance against Kim Seokjin, he never had when it came to girls. It didn’t matter that Yoongi was the captain of the basketball team, and most girls did find him attractive; Jin was intimidatingly handsome, hilarious, charming, and an overall genuinely nice guy. Even if girls liked Yoongi – and were able to get past his cold exterior – once they found out he was friends with the Kim Seokjin, they dropped him immediately. But here she was, telling him he had a chance.

“O-oh,” he stuttered as she leaned into his shoulder with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“Yah, you’re gonna give poor Yoongles a heart attack. He’s not used to pretty girls literally hanging off him,” Jin called from behind them, obviously texting someone as they walked across the parking lot.

“That’s a lie. He’s the captain of the basketball team and he’s gorgeous. But if other girls aren’t smart enough to see what they’re missing out on, I’m sure it’s only because you’re a whore, Seokjin,” she rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Yoongi, face turning red at her blatant compliment. “Is he as much of a heinous thot as I think he is?”

“Absolutely. He kicks me out of our dorm to hook up with strangers and leaves me to fend for myself until they get kicked to the curb,” Yoongi laughed, making her gasp in mock outrage.

“How horrible! Next time he does that, let me know. I’ll give you a place to crash so you don’t have to wander around campus like a stray cat,” she giggled, stopping at the bold, and far too expensive, car Jin chose to drive.

“Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly, making her nod, eyes rounding as she stared up at him, blinking innocently. He felt pinned down by her gaze, internally vowing to do whatever he needed to see that same look on her face again. The absolute rapt attention on him almost made him feel faint, and strangely vulnerable. It was like she saw all the way through him, directly to the deepest parts of himself he’d chosen to hide away, and it was oddly freeing.

A shy smile tore her eyes away from his as she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, “We’re friends now, Yoongi.”

---

Next

taglist: @bibbykins​ @seokjinkismet​ @pasteljooonie​ @here2bbtstrash​ @eureka-its-zico​

#min yoongi fluff #suga fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #yoongi college au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #suga fanfic #suga fanfiction #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #college yoongi au #yoongi fic #suga fic

[bella-rose29]

Chapter 7 - The Demon

I'm back from my holiday and still mildly sleep deprived from the flight but here's the next chapter! This is the second to last chapter (not including an epilogue), and I hope you all enjoy this one! As always, if you want to be added to/ removed from the tag list please let me know, and requests are always welcome :)

We start off with Tamar's point of view for this one, then switch to the reader, which again has been marked by the --- (because I still don't know how best to show a change in perspective).

Warnings: gets a lil steamy at one point (but I can't write it for the life of me)

Word count: 3.1k

Series master list

Tag list: @kentucky-criedfricken, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @kateswone, @historianthesecond, @polli05927, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @simbaaas-stuff (sorry if I've missed anyone, let me know if I have!)

So far, everything was going swimmingly. 

Tamar couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at just how easily this tour was going, but with only one night left she was hoping they would have an uneventful journey home the next day. 

Saints, she missed Nadia. Getting back home and showing her partner just how much she had been missed was high on Tamar’s list of things to do. 

Right now, however, she was frustrated with the server behind the counter at the inn. 

Apparently the King and Queen of Ravka would have to sleep in separate rooms tonight, due to the somewhat… conservative views of the owners, but looking over at the monarchs now, Tamar wasn’t sure how she’d ever be able to peel them apart. 

She also wasn’t sure what had changed, but the past week had seen a dramatic difference in the couples’ behaviour; both being far more touchy, never leaving each others' side, making out in the carriage rides (which was a pain in the ass to Tailor) and at night. 

On second thoughts, maybe it would be good for them to spend a night apart. 

Sighing and removing her hands from where they rested on the tops of her axes, Tamar accepted the keys from the inn owner, promising to separate the lovers with a grimace. She wasn’t looking forward to that at all. 

“Room keys,” she said to the travelling party, jangling the items in the air. Her twin immediately shot up, snatching a key and tearing up the stairs. He’d needed the toilet for 'the last three days’ apparently (his words, not Tamar’s), but had refused to just go pee in a bush (it was too undignified, apparently, as if Tamar hadn't seen him do some of the most undignified things in the world). Zoya took the next key, looking exhausted from all the travelling and like she very much needed her own bed. Tamar handed out keys to the remaining members of the group, then turned to Nikolai and Y/N. 

“Alright lovebirds. You’re gonna have to split up tonight.” At their pouts, Tamar couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a smile forming on her face as she recognised the look she had worn when told Nadia wasn’t coming with them. 

“Are you going to be okay, darling?”

“I’ll be fine, Kolya, it’s you I’m worried about.”

Saints, they were insufferable now. Tolya would be soaking this up if he were here, going on about how they were straight out of one of his beloved poems. 

After ten minutes and many more sentiments and kisses, Tamar managed to wrangle them into their respective rooms, with promises that yes, they would be allowed to sit next to each other at breakfast (that was Y/N asking) and no, she wasn’t asking them to get divorced and never see each other again (that was Nikolai, far more dramatic than his wife). 

She let out a breath as she leaned against her own door to the room she’d be sharing with Tolya, before entering and telling him to take first watch, and slipping into a light sleep. 

Two hours later she was woken by her brother, taking the next round of standing guard. Going to stand in the corridor and resting her back against the wall, she settled in as best she could for the next two hours. Something sharp jammed into her back and she whirled round, hand on her axe, only to realise it was a rogue nail sticking out the wall. 

I can’t wait to be back in the Palace, she thought. She was skittish, the lack of incidents making her paranoid and pushing her further towards the edge of insanity, so she took a deep breath to calm herself. 

For the next hour or so, Tamar maintained her stoic watch in the dimly lit corridor, standing so still anyone passing might have thought her a statue (one particularly drunk customer did as he passed on his way to his room, commenting on the strange decor of the inn). She was just thinking idly about things that needed doing the next morning when the handle to Nikolai’s room twisted. 

Immediately on high alert, her hands formed the motions she needed, but frowned when she only felt one steady heartbeat that she recognised as the King’s. The door opened, and Tamar held her breath as a figure shuffled out cautiously. 

Saints, can they really not leave each other alone?

Her thoughts were cut off when she realised that her king was on all fours, two dark shapes protruding out of his back. 

The demon was here. 

But why now? she thought, confusion lacing her expression again. And why isn’t it attacking?

The demon had never just… walked around like this before, and Tamar was torn between fetching Zoya and Tolya or just watching and waiting to see what would happen. Peering through the open door, Tamar was startled to find the bed stripped, the pillows and sheets on the floor. Nothing looked damaged (thankfully, she didn’t feel like compensating the owners for any damage), and her confusion only grew. 

It was moving again, having stopped briefly to stare up at her with voids of black shining out in place of the usual blue. It had put its nose in the air as it sniffed around for something and, seemingly finding what it had been looking for (smelling for?), Tamar tensed, hoping that it wasn’t hungry for Heartrender. She was surprised again when it turned to Y/N’s room instead and opened the door (and since when could it open doors?), going inside while still on all fours, wings trailing behind. The demon’s claws clacked on the wooden floorboards, and Tamar followed a few paces behind, still monitoring the situation. 

It shuffled closer to Y/N’s bed, pausing every few steps to check she was still sleeping and it hadn't woken her up, then reached up to pull back the cover from her face when it stopped next to the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Tamar muttered to herself, hands fluttering nervously at her sides, torn between her axes and her powers. The demon pulled the whole cover off, then with surprising gentleness lifted Y/N out of the bed. It paused again, reaching a few clawed fingers out to grab a hold of her duvet, then set off slowly in the direction of the door where Tamar was stood. She hurried out of the way, not wanting anything to trigger an attack on her or the Queen, and it paid her no attention as it trudged slowly back to Nikolai’s room. 

Tamar knocked lightly on Zoya and Tolya’s doors, hoping it would be enough to wake them up but not alert the demon. A few moments later a bleary-eyed General appeared, blue robe wrapped around her body and her hair mussed from sleep, clearly unimpressed. Tolya didn’t appear for another five minutes, finding the two women stood outside the King’s bedroom door, gaping at the scene in front of them. 

“Why did you have to wake me up?” Tolya grumbled quietly. “I was having an excellent dream wher-“ He didn’t get to finish since Tamar had slapped a hand over his mouth, the demon staring at them, teeth bared at the disturbance. He removed her hand, eyes wide. 

“What the…”

The demon was still growling slightly at them, a low rumble in its throat, when a murmur came from the pile of sheets in the middle of the floor. It snapped its head round to Y/N, noticing that she was waking up. She rubbed her eyes, and Tamar held her breath. 

"Wha-"

“Don’t move too much, alright?” She said to her Queen in a whisper. Y/N was sat in the weird pillow-and sheet-nest that the demon had made (and was now making little alterations to, pulling folds out to be just right), staring at the demon that had taken over her husband’s body. 

“What… Tamar? Zoya? What’s going on? Is he… is this normal?” She stiffened when the demon came back to her side and pushed her gently back into the pillows, then moved to lie down next to her, one arm circling her waist as it pulled her back against its chest. 

“This is… to be honest, we don’t know what’s going on. This has never happened before. Tolya and I will monitor from here for the rest of the night,” -at his disgruntled sound she elbowed him in the ribs- “and you won’t leave our sight.”

She nodded, eyes still wide in fear and surprise. Zoya offered a few words of comfort to her friend before going back to bed, and Tamar and her brother settled in for the rest of the night. 

---

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, bringing Y/N out of her slumber. At the feel of a warm body underneath her, she panicked, remembering the demon from the night before, but when her eyes opened to land on her very much demon-less husband, she let out a soft sigh of relief. Looking around at the room, she noticed that the twins had disappeared, having left a note next to the couple saying 'Gone to get people up and moving, back in 30'. 

Nikolai woke then, rubbing his eye with blackened fingers before groaning in slight pain at their position.

"Why, in the name of all the Saints, does my back hurt so much?" He croaked out, and Y/N couldn't help but giggle.

"Maybe because we're on the floor?" Nikolai's eyes went wide, his head whipping around to take a proper look at where they were, and then he seemed to register the fact that she was with him.

"Wait... did we have passionate and mind-blowing sex that was so good it gave me amnesia? Because that would be a tragedy and we might have to-"

"NO!" she shouted, using a nearby pillow to whack him in the face as her cheeks went red and her mind filled in the rest of his sentence. "Why does your mind always go there? No, you um... the demon got lonely and wanted a hug?" She didn't mean for it to end in a question, but she still wasn't entirely sure herself what had happened the night before. Her husband stared at her, blinking a few times. When he spoke his voice was smaller than she'd ever heard it before.

"Did I hurt you?" His hand had been reaching up to cup her face, but now Nikolai hesitated in anticipation. She gently took it and guided it to her cheek, leaning in to the warmth of his palm.

"No, Kolya, you didn't hurt me. I think it genuinely just got lonely or something. Made this weird nest thing on the floor, which on a side note, I'd love to get into to research the behaviours of- wait, why are you staring at me like that?" Her nose wrinkled as she took in his expression, then smoothed out when he leaned up to kiss her.

"You definitely can't be too traumatised from being accosted by my other half if you want to research its behaviours, darling. I'm just glad you're okay."

"I thought I was your other half? What, does our marriage mean nothing to you anymore?" she joked, pleased when he cracked a smile. She could get drunk on his smiles, the ones that were specifically for her; they were like the sun to her.

"Sorry, darling," he replied, and Saints, she'd said that she didn't like being called the pet name, but it was really doing things to her. She hadn't missed how Nikolai had continually called her 'darling' since that carriage ride, and she also hadn't missed how he'd responded when the bump in the road threw her on to him.

Just like how she now didn't miss his smile turning wolfish moments before he gripped her waist lightly and flipped her on her back. She squealed, which turned into a muffled moan when he pressed his lips and body against hers. Y/N was completely certain that everybody knew they were making out in the carriage rides and basically any other opportunity they got, but she couldn't bring herself to care when he felt like heaven.

Her arms circled around him, pulling him closer, and when he came up for air he asked "Is this alright, Y/N?" and she could have died right there at how gentle he was being.

"This is definitely alright, Nikolai." She brought him back in, and this time some of their restraint had slipped away, tongues deepening the kiss. One of his arms was propping him up and playing with a strand of her hair; the other was caressing her side, toying with the hem of her night shirt, his fingers grazing her bare skin underneath. Her own hands were exploring the expanse of his back (which she totally hadn't already memorised) and moving through his hair, and she'd lifted a leg to wrap around his waist. She moaned again when he moved the hand that was stroking her side to grip her thigh tightly instead, and when she arched her body up in response, hips pressing into his, they groaned into each other's skin at the contact, at feeling everything so closely. Nikolai had moved onto her neck, leaving kisses down it, occasionally nipping at the skin and testing her reactions, staying in one place for longer when he got one he liked. Her mind was a mess, what with his hands stroking her neck and thigh (the latter getting progressively higher as time went on), but did manage to think about how maybe they would be having mind-blowing sex. No sooner than she'd had that thought, however, was Nikolai pulling away, hair mussed from where her hands had been running through and pulling it, lips swollen and pupils blown. She was sure she looked the same, although he wasn't frowning at the lack of contact.

"Why... what..." she swallowed, trying to get her breath back and her thoughts in some sort of order.

"I don't think- I can't..." he paused, doing the same as her and taking deep breaths, and for a moment she panicked, thinking he didn't want this, didn't want her, but then when he spoke she didn't know why she'd worried in the first place.

"I refuse to let the first time I make love to you be on the floor of someone else's bedroom, Y/N, no matter how badly I want you right now."

Saints, this man.

She swallowed again, nodding slightly, then whined - what was she, a puppy? - when he started to get up and move away from her. At the sound Nikolai hesitated, then planted a final kiss on her lips as a promise that 'this will continue' before leaving to get changed. She watched him go, and when Genya inevitably asked when the party got back, Y/N would say that she was most definitely not staring at his ass as he left the room.

~~~

Breakfast passed quickly, and there was a flurry of activity as everybody packed things up for the final stretch of the journey, energy renewed at the knowledge that they'd be sleeping in their own beds tonight. Y/N had taken a little extra time to cool her face that morning, hoping the cold water would help reduce the swelling in her lips before coming downstairs. Tamar had come over in the food hall at one point, checking in on her and asking questions about the night before in a quiet voice.

"Seriously, Tamar, I'm fine. No marks or bruises. Like I said to Nik I'm pretty sure the demon was just feeling lonely, especially since Nik and I have spent the last week or so sharing a bed. Probably just wanted to make sure I was okay."

"That's... not what normally happens," she replied with a frown. "But if you're not hurt, then I guess it's alright."

Within the next ten minutes the touring party had packed up and were on the move, and now Y/N was sat opposite Nikolai in the carriage, knees knocking with his. He was looking out the window, clearly lost in thought as he absentmindedly stroked his fingers over the back of her hand, his wedding ring cool against her warm skin.

"I'm glad it's you," she said. He dragged himself out of his reverie, blinking a few times as he took in what she had said.

"What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean I'm glad that it was you I had to marry."

"I'm glad too, Y/N," he replied with a smile. "Unfortunately I can't take any credit for the decision-making process, although I definitely would have picked you," the last part was said with a wink and a grin as he looked her up and down, making Y/N's cheeks heat up, but she couldn't help but frown at what had come before.

"But I thought that you were the one that picked me to marry you?" she asked, confusion lacing her voice. "When I asked Zoya why I was the one that had to marry you, she just said that I'd 'been chosen'."

"I thought she'd told you? I let the Triumvirate pick, I trust their judgement and I was rather busy trying to convince everyone that the last thing we needed was a civil war and to let me be king."

Y/N was quiet for a minute, thinking.

"I think... I think she didn't tell me that you didn't have any part in it so that she could reduce my stress about the whole thing. It's fair, really; if I thought that you didn't want anything to do with me I probably would have run away or something."

"Good job she didn't, then. I quite like having you around. And as far as whether or not I would have picked you, I think I would. The people clearly love you, and you're going to be an excellent Queen to Ravka because of how much you clearly love them. Sure, court will be difficult, trying to get the nobles properly on side, but I know that you can do it, because you love Ravka and her people and you'll do what you need to to protect them."

"I... thank you, Nikolai. That... that means a lot to me," she swallowed down the lump in her throat at his sincerity.

"I think I've come up with a way to launch the garden project you were talking about, too. We can start making plans tomorrow, if you like?"

"That would be perfect, Kolya."

He smiled back at her, hand still holding hers.

Hope had bloomed in her chest, and she let it grow. There wasn't much that could make this day much better than being here with him, and nothing could bring her mood down now.

Until the window shattered as an arrow shot through it, narrowly missing Nikolai's head.

Chapter 8

#i'm evil for this ending i'm sorry #i'll make it up to you in the next one #i promise <3 #nikolai lanstov x reader #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

[writemekpop]

Get Naked | Ning Yi Zhuo (Ningning)

5K Follower Series Ep. 23

Summary: You and Ningning are stranded alone in the cold. The only way to warm up is to take off all your clothes... 

Genre: Friends to lovers, suggestive, high school AU 

Word Count: 1.4k 

Prompt: “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Gif: @pinkmatters

You and Ninging sat as far apart from each other as you could in the tiny tent. It was barely clinging to the craggy face of the mountain. 

You can’t believe you’d been forced to do your mandatory high school ‘survival training’ today. Not only was there a snowstorm roaring outside, but you had to do it with Ningning: the noisiest, most arrogant girl in your class. 

The snow had melted on your body now, and your clothes were soaked wet. 

“The chattering of your teeth is driving me insane!” Ningning snapped. “You are such a wuss.” 

You scowled, shivering. “I’m f-f-f-fine.” 

“I’m getting the space heater from the bag outside,” Ningning said, pushing rudely past you to the tent entrance. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”

A few seconds later, her face popped back in through the tent zip, uncharacteristically nervous. “Um… the space heater’s broken.” 

Your head collapsed into your hands. “I’m gonna die of hypothermia, and when they find our bodies, the papers are going to say I’m friends with Ning Yi Zhuo.” 

Ningning scoffed. “Don’t be such a drama queen.” You heard a zipping noise, and looked up. To your surprise, Ningning was stripping off her wet hoodie, t-shirt and joggers. 

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you squeaked. 

“Survival 101. We’ll warm up faster naked.” She pursed her lips at you. “Go on, get your kit off.” 

Ningning stripped till she was just in her bra and underwear – and then she removed those, too. For a second, your eyes were glued to the dip in her waist and the little piercing that winked in her navel. A sweet little shiver ran down your spine. You quickly looked away. 

Ningning dived into the sleeping bag, combing her wet blonde hair with her fingers. “Hurry up!” 

“D-don’t look,” you said quietly. 

Ningning threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, so now the little princess is shy?” 

Still, she closed her eyes, and you quickly removed your clothes. Covering your chest with your arms, you exclaimed, “Hey! Where’s my sleeping bag?” 

Ningning bit her plump pink lip. “Oh… this is your sleeping bag. I forgot to bring one.” She beckoned you with two fingers. “Jump in!” 

You groaned, a string of curses leaving your lips. “I’m not getting in there. You’re- you’re naked!”   

However, as soon as you said that, you started to shiver, the icy air hitting your body. Ningning raised one eyebrow. “Is dying of frostbite really better than lying with me?”

“A million times better,” you snapped, but squeezed in, anyway.  

The sleeping bag was beautifully toasty from Ningning’s body heat. An involuntary sigh of comfort left your lips.  

You couldn’t believe that every inch of her smooth, bare skin was pressed against you. She wrapped her arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” you said. 

The weirdest thing was… it felt good. Like you wished you could pull her closer, not move away. You fought the urge to rest your head on top of hers. 

“Oh my god, I don’t want to fuck you,” Ningning said exasperatedly. “It’s just that, the more contact we have, the quicker we’ll warm up.” Her voice turned playful. “I mean, you’re not awful to look at, in a kind of tortured nerd way… but you’re not my type.”

Your heart thumped faster at the compliment. “What is this incredible type then?”

“Hmm… athletic, blonde, at least 5”7 – which you are not.” 

You laughed, despite feeling a weird stab of jealousy. Why did you care if Ningning liked you or not? “Clearly, your type comes from Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures. Try opening your mind a little bit.”

Ningning whispered in your ear, making you tremble. Her hot breath felt so delicious against your skin. “Oh yeah? So, who should I like?” 

You were breathing a little harder than you wanted to. “Maybe try… the human equivalent of a hot cup of cocoa.”  

Were you flirting? If so, why? None of this made sense. It was just impossible not to play along with her. Ningning had a way like that – when she was going down a certain path, you just had to follow her. 

“So… small, dark, and deliciously sweet?” she teased. 

Your throat was dry as you nodded. 

“The first two, I get…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “but I haven’t tasted you yet.” 

Shocked, you turned to look at her, and suddenly, her full pink lips were almost touching yours. You could feel her breath on your face. Your heart felt like it might break out of your ribcage. 

For a long, tense second, neither one of you spoke.  

Then, Ningning yawned, rolled over, and said, “Just kidding, you wimp! I’m going to sleep. Night night.” 

For the next few hours, as she snored happily, you stayed awake. Your heart was thrumming in your chest, making it impossible to relax. After all, her naked body was wrapped around yours. All you could feel was the soft touch of her skin. 

What the hell happened there? If Ningning hadn’t stopped you… something could have happened. 

You put it down to the cold making your head funny. Otherwise, why was it genuinely exciting to talk to her? You hated her! 

At least, you thought you hated her. Everyone in the class did. She was the weird girl who got naked in the locker room and called everyone ‘darling’. You were… meant to hate her. 

Then why did it feel like your heart was betraying you? 

“Stop whispering to yourself like a crazy person. It’s seriously creepy.” Ningning’s hushed voice was slurred from sleep.

Your face burned, and you shut your mouth. You had no idea you’d been speaking. 

“Why the hell are you not asleep? You’ll die tomorrow, idiot.” 

“I- I can’t get to sleep. It’s the wind,” you lied. 

“I know just what to do,” Ningning said. 

“Surprise, surprise, you know it all-” you started complaining, but you stopped speaking when you realized what she was doing.  

In a rich, melodious voice like swirling honey, Ningning was singing you a lullaby. The song was beautiful, and full of tender love. Slowly, your shoulders relaxed, and you eased into Ningning’s body. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you gushed, forgetting to sound mean. 

You could just make out Ningning’s smile. “It’s the song my mother used to sing me, before she passed.”  

You frowned. “I’m sorry-“

She shut you up, placing one finger on your lips. “Don’t be. It’s okay. I don’t feel lonely anymore. I have some special people in my life.” 

Your heart was racing, partly from her words, and partly because her finger was still touching your lips. She smoothed it over, cupping your cheek. Then, she moved closer. 

“Can I kiss you?” Ningning asked. 

You nodded feverishly, needing to feel her lips on yours.  

Her lips were even softer than you expected. The kiss sent butterflies soaring in your stomach. You’d never kissed anyone before, and Ningning was honestly the last person you ever expected to be your first kiss. But still, it was incredible.  

When she pulled back, your throat was dry. “That was… good,” you blurted out. 

Ningning grinned widely. “I thought I was the ‘weird girl who everyone hated’! That is what you were whispering before, no?”  

Your cheeks burned. “You heard?”

Ningning laughed. “I don’t give a damn what those girls think of me.” She bit her lip. “The only person I really care about is you.”

You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips. “Go to sleep, before you propose to me or something.” 

Ningning giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, will you marry me?”

Your heart fluttered. “Shut up, idiot! Sleep!” 

That night, you had the best sleep of your entire life. It may have had something to do with the gorgeous, not to mention naked, girl beside you… 

​—

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[taegularities]

rid my dear if you’re not too busy, and still open for some drabbles, I have a request. All these amc on ry has me feeling soft and gushy, so my request is ry!tae and a!oc on their wedding night 🥹❤️🥰💍💐👀

fic: ruin you and ruined pairing: taehyung x reader (a!oc) genre: established relationship; pure fluff and smut warnings: confessions and a lot of love :(, they're simps for each other, bit of teasing, wedding talk; explicit sexual content: fingering, oral (f.), doggy and missionary <3, spit stuff, brief masturbation, biting (surprise), dom and big dick!tae (surprise pt2.), one pussy slap, he likes her ass, praising, so many petnames, he's actually SOOO fkn sweet :(, unprotected sex (condoms are cool), manhandling, multiple orgasms, lmk if i forgot smth <3 wc: 3k (u don't understand how much i miss them ok) a/n: i've not been feeling so well lately, so i was gonna say no to this request – but this ask stirred something in me, and now i miss them even more :') it's far from perfect, but i hope u still like it hehe i even made a banner !! :D lmk what u think <3 a/n2: the drabble belongs to my ruin you series (linked above), but if u'd like to read it as a standalone, that's totally possible, too! those are just newlyweds very very much in love 🥺

–

ask my character! (no drabble requests anymore, please!) <3

–

The sly smirk he shoots down to your awaiting body will never not feel new to you.

He towers above you, veined hands under his neck. His fingers slowly work at the buttons that yet keep his skin hidden, and your blood boils. Your heart vibrates. Your eyes dart back and forth between his gaze and his ring finger, now decorated with eternity.

With his shirt down and the melanin popping, he hastily removes his slacks; danger fills his words when his knees hit the mattress and he says, “You looked so gorgeous today.” You hold your breath, shifting back on the bed. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Liar. You were too busy admiring the castle grounds and the fairy lights.”

Your back hits the headboard of the bed, but you don’t remain in the position for long. His strong grip settles around your already bare thighs, pulling you down the bed until you’re flat underneath him.

Drawing closer, he breathes against your skin, hands crawling up from your legs to your tummy and then to your breasts. He’s an enchantment, every single time… and despite the years you spent together, tangled up in your room, you don’t know how your heart will handle his unending affection.

You’re officially his now, aren’t you? Officially officially.

“You loved the lights and the flowers just as much, though, didn’t you?” he asks whenever his lips aren’t kissing down your neck and shoulders.

“I did…” you mumble, focusing on breathing, “didn’t expect anything else from us.”

“It was your idea.”

“No regrets.”

“No,” he places a hand on your cheek, brushing back your hair, “fuck no. Never any regrets.”

Taehyung is impatient today – and that says a lot, considering how he’s still moving slowly, carefully. The hour-long pleasure that usually keeps you awake at night falls away this time; his mouth journeys down your body and to your panties right away.

Wet kisses call goosebumps to the surface of your skin; he moans when you do. His fingers tug at the straps of your bra, pulling it down and freeing your perked nipples. The gust of wind through the open window makes you shiver.

“Today was really fucking long,” you murmur, whimpering when he bites your sides. “Fuck, I—”

“Yes. Yeah, what is it?”

“Can you hurry up?”

“You’re flattering me,” he laughs, hands on your hips as his face settles between your spread legs. “On our first day as a married couple, too.”

“Me telling you to hurry up is flattery to you?”

“Is it not?” He plays around the hem of your panties, and when his fingertips graze the spot near your clit, you almost shut your legs close. “You think hearing you beg for dick isn’t flattery?”

“Not begging…” you insist, though the both of you know just how fast he affects your mind. “Just—”

He slaps your pussy with a layer still inbetween; you yelp, looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows as he says, “I missed this.”

“It’s just been two days.”

“So? I miss you all the damn time.”

“Simp.”

“‘Kay,” he only voices before he buries his nose and mouth in your panties.

He inhales, lips toying with the fabric. Then, his tongue darts out, and you feel it subtly, slowly; your body reacts, and that’s all he wants.

Looking up at you, he finds your eyes closed in delight and lust. He dives in again – and this time, he flattens his tongue over your pussy, the material of your panties harsh against the wet muscle. You squirm, groaning, and your hands rush to his dark hair.

It’s still somewhat hard from the gel his tresses got styled with, but when you look at him, the damn loose strands send you into an endless spiral of craze.

“Taehyung—”

“Mmmh.”

His movements become more urgent; soon, he’s making out with your clothed cunt, nails digging into your legs and hips, and you squirm in his grip. Your reaction sends blood straight from his head to his cock, and when impatience wins once and for all, his face shoots up.

Your limbs are shivering already, your nipples impossibly hard. And with the look you wear, he can’t help but feel his underwear tighten. Nearly ripping your panties off of you, he throws them on the ground before finding his way back home between your thighs.

He doesn’t take a moment or two to prepare you for what’s to come; instead, he pushes your legs back immediately, starting to eat you out like a man starved. His tongue and lips feel soft against your pussy, and he keeps changing the pace.

From fast flicks to slow kisses, he doesn’t leave a spot of you untouched. His mouth glistens from your slick – you can see it even from here – and his hair tickles your pelvis. Nether lips spread, he brings a finger to your entrance, and when he teases it with circling motions, you shut your legs around his ears again.

“Fuck,” he says when he emerges anew for a breath of air. “One more time and I’ll leave you high and dry on your wedding night.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t, you’re right,” the shake and tilt of his head remind you of the devil; he will eat you alive, you know it, “but don’t you wanna come as many times as possible, baby?”

“Now th–that you say it…” you breathe out when he soothes the crescent moons his nails dug into your skin. “But hurry. Please.”

“‘Yeah, babe.” Taehyung’s finger pushes in between your walls, and your eyes roll back at the pleasant intrusion. “No need to worry at all.”

And then, he’s tongueing at your clit. Drawing patterns, watching you leak, his fingers drenched in arousal to their knuckles. He fucks into you slowly at first before he increases his pace, and with the tension already present in your tummy since dinner, you let go with a snap.

“Ohhhh, you— you fucking demon, I—” is all you manage.

He licks you through your high; you feel the smile against your skin. You might’ve remarked something snarky if he wasn’t robbing every little piece of your sanity.

Cautiously, he watches your expression, a deep crease between your eyebrows that relaxes bit by bit. You look drowsy, kind of hazy – the way you always do when an orgasm shakes your body.

“Baby,” he whispers innocently, and you almost scoff; though your reaction dies immediately when he adds, “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

Taehyung laughs, kissing your cheek, your nose, your forehead before he teases, “You really can’t think anymore, can you?” You let out a small snicker, shaking your head no. “Turn around for me.”

You attempt your best to do a 180, and his hands aid you, flipping you over before he lifts your hips. Balancing your body on your underarms, you throw the hair out of your face, and when you glance back a few seconds later, he’s… fully naked.

Pumping his cock.

Hissing, biting his lip. His jaw is clenched and sharp – you want it to cut you open.

You push your body back, wiggling your ass, but Taehyung’s free hand stops you in your tracks when he grabs a handful of your bum and squeezes hard. You let out a quiet vocal, and he says, “You wanna play with my sanity like that?”

“It’s what I’ll be doing the rest of my life, babe.”

“Good one,” he says, albeit not without a tsk and a roll of his eyes. You don’t see his pupils anymore – but you’re sure he did just that.

You feel the mattress shift when he moves closer; his cock rests between your ass cheeks, moving slowly. Leaking precum sticks hot against your skin, and he leans forwards until his chest almost touches your back.

“Here,” he voices, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Need a good image of what you can do.”

You want to tell him that he knows exactly what you can do – pictures of his eyes rolled back, his cock throbbing in your mouth, your own eyes watering flash across your mind. The way he grunts and groans when he comes in your throat, his voice as deep as the ocean.

Fuck.

Words die on your tongue when he pushes the digits he fucked you with between your lips. It’s the same as always for you, neutral; your arousal awakens nothing in you. But you know he likes your fragrance, your taste, that it drives him crazy to feel you around him anyhow.

Like now.

You swirl your tongue around his fingers, bobbing your head back and forth, eyelids shut as he moans. You imagine that he’s thrown his head back; feel how rockhard he is for you.

His cock shifts down and prods your entrance – you think he’ll push in when you expect it the least. But instead, he removes his fingers from your mouth and says, “Spit on it.”

Offering his palm, he breathes in deeply again, and you land a blob of spit on his hand before it vanishes from your sight. Craning your neck again, you watch as he spreads it around his dick; veins pulsate along his curved length, and you drool at the size, at the sheer delicacy that’ll ruin you all night.

And then, he moves on the bed again, and you avert your gaze, preparing your body for what’s to come.

Wet and filthy, his cock slides in. A loud mewl of his name falls out of you, and your upper body threatens to drop. He fills you up slowly, knowing you need a moment to adjust to him; and once he’s sheathed himself entirely inside you, he asks, “All good, my love?”

“I’m okay,” you assure, your head spinning, “go ahead. Please.”

And so he does.

Starts fucking into you gently, his hips moving in circles. He watches the way his cock keeps disappearing inside you; listens to the sounds that tumble out of you constantly; sees it when you grab the sheets above your head.

“Can I go—”

“Yeah,” you say, already aware of what he’s going to ask, “harder… faster.”

“Okay. Okay, shit.” He pauses, taking the moment to ram into you hard. “Are you even real? Gonna break the bed, I sw— swear.”

He would. It’s not like he has never torn up the pillows in your bedroom. But if he does it here, the hotel staff might complain, so he better practice control tonight.

Even if you don’t want him to.

Taehyung used to tell you how his biggest flex in bed was composure. How he always knew what he was doing, every move calculated – and how all of this broke once he met you. You’re a fog, he always says. You don’t allow a clear mind… don’t allow calculations.

And you notice it in the way his hips snap against yours; the way he forgets the world around him. You jolt forwards, your legs giving in. But the weakness of your limbs doesn’t discourage him; instead, he falls onto you, careful to not crush you under his weight.

Flat on your tummy, you’re caged between the bed and him, raising your arms higher. And before you know it, his hands have wandered from your waist to your wrists, pinning them down on each side of the pillow.

His cock, impossibly solid and wet, fucks you insane – your thoughts are scattered when the curve of it hits an especially sensitive patch inside you.

And he… not even he can believe that you’re real. His thrusts push your ass upwards, both your bodies sweaty; he loves how you feel wrapped around his thick cock. So he lunges in harder.

You nearly scream, “Taehyung—” Your heart thumps wildly, and his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, his breathing shallow and irregular against you. “Taehyung, fuck, I…”

“Talk to me. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I love you… so— so fucking much.”

You do.

You do, right?

And suddenly… something seems to change in the atmosphere.

Your words trigger something in his heart. Something deeply anchored, yet easy to grasp. The wild hammering of his hips calms down, and the firm grip around your wrists loosens.

“Baby,” he whispers, and you hum, feeble in his presence. “I’m sorry, but… can you— can you turn around again?” You hum again, and he adds, “Wanna see you.”

So you do.

Slowly, with sugar and honey in your eyes. No matter how lewd your actions, your eyes are always deep and dreamy. He thinks he sees your soul through them – shiny and bright, like no one else’s ever.

God, he’s in love with you.

There can’t be a day without you anymore. By the laws of fate and love, there can’t be.

With the tip of his member spreading your pussy again, one of his hands wanders to the nape of your neck. His fingers bury in your hair, his lips grazing yours. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time – sighs along with you when his dick has vanished inside you again.

And then, before he starts moving once more, he admits, “I love you, too. I love you so much, it hurts.”

It hurts.

Every moment without him. You hate being dependent on people – but Taehyung has a hold on your heart that will keep suffocating you in the most delightful way. If that’s the silent ache love and eternal fondness bring, you don’t ever want your heart to stop bleeding.

Your moans, your whimpers, the crying out of each other’s names continue. The yearning, despite the closeness, doesn’t end. But his ministrations are slower now, his eyes lost in you. He doesn’t stop looking at you.

Only fucks you deeper, his pelvis brushing against your clit, untying the second knot that forms in your stomach. And he says, “I can’t… I cannot believe this.”

“What, baby?” you whisper, pushing the stray hair behind his ears.

“That this is happening…” You know immediately what he means. Not sex. Not intimate moments. You’ve had so many of those. But. “My wife. Aren’t you? My—” A sharp breath falls out of his mouth. “My baby, right? My wife.”

You might tear up… here and now. Your eyes are already welling up, glassier than his – and when he buries his face in your neck, kissing your flesh, you throw your head back. Eyelids flutter shut. The one tear priorly attempting to escape rolls out of your eyes and down your temples.

And when the contact of your skins keeps toying with your clit, you let go again at one particularly effective thrust. His name is all you seem to know – the rest of human language doesn’t make any sense anymore. Your voice breaks, your arms around him so tight that your muscles hurt.

Your husband.

Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung – a man you’ll keep forever. His thoughts, his smile, his touch. A future with him and mini hims.

Yours.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…” he manages, but you barely understand. “I love you. Love you. You feel so good, f—”

You press your lips together, still keening – and when he muffles his sounds against your clavicles, you know he’s close, too. He moves inside you once. Twice. And half a minute later, he’s spilling inside you, his seed hot and plenty.

A palm of yours slides down his body, to the firm muscles of his ass. He raises his head, madness in his eyes; his hair is dishevelled, in urgent need of a wash. But you think he’s prettiest like that.

Drowning in you. Unaware of his surroundings.

Taehyung is in love with you, and you will keep repeating it to yourself until you understand this fact’s reality one day.

“You’re perfect,” he then says.

His cock softens, the sheets damp from your sweat and filth – but right now, you couldn’t care less. His eyes pull you in too much, hypnotising; who could care about anything other than him?

“You are,” you tell him, and he smiles. Pecks your nose, and then stares at you with a blush dusting his cheeks. “And today was perfect, too.”

“It was, yeah? I’m happy if you’re happy, then.”

“You know what I loved the most?”

“Mmh… Slow dancing.”

Your eyes blow wide along with your mouth, and you tilt your head in the pretty way he adores as you say, “How did you know?”

“I saw it the moment we started. I knew you loved it,” he pauses, licks his lips, and you look at his mole for a moment, “but also because it was my favourite part, too.”

You nod slowly, pulling him into you a bit more. “We should slow dance more often, I think.”

“We’ll do anything you like, okay? We have all the time in the world now.”

Once again, you nod, and your eyes shimmer with purity. You’re indescribable – a wonder of nature. One of Monet’s paintings, right out of his mind, personified.

Taehyung never questions where you were all his life. Never thinks you should’ve crossed paths before. Because recalling his past, he doesn’t reckon he would’ve gotten into your heart this deep with the personality he used to wear.

Love had its time – and when the first tries failed, you appeared with a halo over your head.

It’s perfect. Every moment, every kiss, every fight and every piece of you – perfect.

The corners of his lips drop, his eyes suddenly sober. Worry creeps up your heart, and for a second, you fear he might slip back into the anxious moods that used to plague him. So you ask, “What’s wrong?”

But in reality… he and his heart are calm. Pleasant waves of tenderness swim in his eyes. And then…

Then he says, “You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart stops for a moment.

You take a deep breath; your waterline dampens again.

And he continues, “Don’t you ever dare to leave, okay?”

As if anything was easier than that. A request so obvious that you don’t even need to think twice before you promise, “I’d be an idiot if I did.”

That’s what you vowed at your wedding today. That you’d keep the beats of your hearts synchronised. That you’d never let him feel the absence of your warmth. And that you’d keep your fingers tangled with his.

That you’ve fallen for him once – and that you’ll keep falling for him forever.

–

please lmk what u think and reblog if u liked it 🥺 !!

#it's not perfect since i wrote it in the last couple of hours but i still hope u enjoy! #*ryamc #fic: ruin you #notes for rid 🌹 #anon #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fluff