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sturnsbae · 22 days

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DIFFERENT - CHRIS STURNIOLO

summary: chris hasn’t been acting like his usual self and has been shutting everyone out, including his girlfriend.

warnings: cursing and the use of pet names so if you don’t like it then just read past them lol 😭

—

chris is usually hyperactive, overly energetic, and talkative. it’s practically what he’s known for, but lately he’s been quiet and less motivated to do nearly anything. he’s been shutting everyone out including you. this is odd behavior from him because you’re his prized possession. if your name gets brought up he’s the first to join into the conversation, always eager to boast on your behalf. you’re his girl.

you’ve been trying to ignore it, assuming that it’s just some weird mood he’s in due to the gloomy winter weather. but it’s been a constant thing for almost a week now, and it’s starting to strike you with concern.

you’re sat on his couch with both him and his brothers. everyone is silently glaring between their phone screens and the random movie playing on the tv. chris stands up which catches your attention as his arm falls off of your shoulder. “where are you going?” you ask softly.

“im gonna use the bathroom,” he says blatantly as he walks off into the small hallway next to matt’s room. you furrow your brows and turn your head to nick and matt, who are sat on the other end of the couch.

“has he seemed off lately to you guys?” you ask in a quiet tone. as you say this, nick looks at matt and they both turn their heads back to you, nodding in agreement.

“we’ve noticed it too, but we didn’t wanna say anything to you about it in case we were wrong,” matt says softly, making sure chris doesn’t hear him.

“should i ask him about it?” you ask.

“nah, knowing him he’s just gonna get pissy about it. but whenever we film videos with you he always tends to be happier, so maybe we should all make a video this week. are you free thursday?”

“yeah i should be!” you say as chris exits the bathroom, staring straight down at his phone screen. you sigh as he sits right back down on the couch still looking down at his phone, basically ignoring your presence.

“hey chris, i think i’m gonna head home okay?”

“oh alright, bye love you,” he says as he gives you a little halfassed smile and a very loose hug, all very abnormal behavior from him. usually he’d be bolting off of the couch and holding you in his arms begging you not to leave, or at least he’d be walking you to your car.

you walk out of the house alone, getting in your car with a sigh. you can’t help but wonder if you did something wrong. when you get home, you don’t even bother texting him that you got home safely. usually when you don’t text him that you got home safe, he spam texts you to make sure you’re okay. but this time he didn’t.

—

thursday rolls around, and you use your spare key to get into their house. chris turns around as he hears the door open, looking down the stairs to see what the noise is. when his eyes meet yours, a shocked expression appears on his face. “y/n?”

“hi baby! your brothers invited me to join your guys’ video!” you smile at him, and he just gives a small smile back.

“oh, i didn’t know,” he says monotonously. he waits for you at the top of the stairs, but doesn’t hug you when you reach him. he just half smiles and walks back to the kitchen. you furrow your brows and let out a sigh, but you put on a big smile for his brothers.

“hi guys! what are we filming?” you ask as you set your things down on the couch.

“we’re gonna be playing with kids toys that matt and i bought,” nick says, greeting you with a big hug as you enter the kitchen.

“oh my god that sounds so fun!” you say as you sit down next to chris at the island counter. you lean your head on chris’ shoulder as matt adjusts the camera, but he just keeps looking down at his phone. you sigh loudly, and that’s what eventually gets his attention. “you good?” he asks you.

“yep,” you say coldly. he nods and puts his phone down seeing as matt finally got the camera at a good angle. nick and matt come sit down next to you guys and start filming the introduction to the video.

—

you guys have been filming for about twenty minutes now, and chris has barely been acknowledging you. so you try and make a flirty joke to see if it sparks any reaction out of him. you guys are currently playing with a little robotic lamb that you need to take care of with things such as food, water, rubs, etc.

“aww chris, this is like if we had a baby!” you say jokingly as you feed the little toy lamb.

“ew! i don’t even want to think about that,” matt jokes. both you and nick burst out laughing, but chris just lets out a little chuckle.

“yeah, but i agree i don’t even wanna think about that,” chris says with a cold chuckle to try and smooth over his comment. but no matter the “joking” tone in his voice, it still felt like a stab in the heart. you and chris have always talked about a future together. due to his comment you give a fake eye roll to the camera, but deep down you mean it. at this point chris’ moody behavior is just pissing you off.

eventually the video comes to an end and you take your chance to talk to chris. nick and matt are cleaning everything up off of the counter, and you take chris by his hand and drag him into the living room. “chris, can we talk?” you ask.

“hm? yeah, sure. wanna go to my room?”

“yes please,” you say softly, trying to blink back tears. you’re worried because this conversation could have so many outcomes, and all of the bad possibilities are the ones overtaking your mind. you follow chris down the stairs to his room, and you shut the door behind him. he sits down on his bed and pats the spot next to him. you sit down but don’t make eye contact with him.

“chris… god i don’t even know how to start this,” you chuckle nervously. “are you okay? did i do something? is something going on? you’ve been shutting me out, and apparently you’ve been shutting your brothers out too.”

chris’ eyes turn to look at you, “what are you even talking about? i’m fine.”

you turn your head from the ground to face him,“are you sure chris? even nick and matt said you’ve been acting weird with them. if somethings wrong please just tell me. you know i love you and i’m always here for you.”

“well if you love me then why the fuck did you go to my brothers about this before me? i just told you i’m fine!” he says, raising his voice. you furrow your brows and stand up off the bed. you begin to pace the room as chris just looks down at the ground again.

him raising his voice at you over this pisses you off, so you raise your voice back. “what?! you’re fucking unbelievable chris! all i did was ask if you’re okay because i’m concerned about you, and you just give me attitude and raise your voice at me? what the fuck has gotten into you lately!”

he just scoffs and that does it for you. “chris i think we need to take a break. you aren’t communicating your feelings with me, and as soon as i ask if you’re okay you get mad at me for that? i’m sooo sorry for being fucking concerned about my boyfriend!” you yell back, tears now welling in your eyes. but chris doesn’t say anything, instead his eyes are glued to the floor and his elbows are resting on his thighs.

“you seriously have nothing to say?! you’re not even gonna act like you wanna fight for us?” you say as hot, salty tears stream down your cheeks.

“i mean you want a break and i respect you so…” chris mumbles but loud enough that you can understand him.

you just laugh at how unbelievable he’s being. “seriously chris, i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you lately but somethings changed. you’re different, and not in a good way,” you say as you wipe the tears on your cheeks and storm up the stairs.

nick and matt try their best to pretend they didn’t hear you guys arguing, but you know that they did. your eyes are bloodshot and your mascara is smudged, but they don’t pay any attention to it. nick wraps you in a hug and whispers, “i’m so sorry babe. we’re gonna sort this out, i’m not letting him give up on you guys this easily.”

you pull back from the hug and smile at nick, watching as matt comes over to pull you into a hug as well. “we’re not officially broken up, it’s just a break. but no matter what happens i still love you guys and i hope we can all be friends. i’ll see you guys,” you smile faintly.

“are you sure you’re good too drive?” matt asks, and you nod as you grab your things and head out. you manage to keep yourself composed on the drive home, but as soon as your key unlocks the door to your apartment the tears start flowing again. your chest feels so unbearably heavy and your breathing starts to quicken rapidly. you sit yourself down on the floor and rest your back against the door. your knees are against your chest, and you’re sure that the entire complex can hear your sobs. you’re just glad you live alone.

it’s now been hours since you left the sturniolos, and chris has just been laying in his bed staring at the ceiling. he hasn’t even changed out of the jeans and t shirt he was wearing, his mind is just consumed with you and the words you spat out at him.

—

it’s been nearly a week, and you and chris haven’t texted at all. the only form of contact you’ve had is liking each other’s instagram stories, nothing more than that.

you’ve left the house maybe a total of three times in the last week, and so has chris. he’s barely even been able to leave bed to film, but he knows that youtube is his life so he puts on a fake for the camera. as soon as the video ends, he goes straight back to his bedroom and locks himself in there for hours at a time. his brothers are overly concerned, but they know he needs his space so they don’t bug him about it.

he’s been miserable without you, and the fact that he knows it’s his fault makes it eat at him even more. he lost the love of his life because of his own cowardly mind, and it’s killing him. he’s typed out nearly a million texts, but he hasn’t sent any of them.

you decide that it’s been long enough with out chris, and you realize he isn’t gonna text you first, so you face your fears and text him.

you: hey, can we meet up? i feel like we need to talk about things

chris: yeah of course. meet at our spot in 30?

you: yeah that’s perfect

you and chris had found a hidden gem in griffith park about a year ago and you guys claimed it as “your spot.” you’ve never taken anyone there besides him, and neither has he. there’s even a little wooden fence at the spot with your guys’ initials engraved in a heart.

you throw on a sweatshirt and drive yourself to the park. to your surprise, chris is already there sitting and looking off into the city view. “hey,” you say softly as you sit on the grass next to him.

he immediately turns to look at you, and that’s when you see the dark circles under his eyes. you gasp and immediately reach out and touch his face. “chris oh my god, you look sick! have you slept at all?” you say with a sudden pit in your stomach.

“a little, yeah. not much but don’t worry, i’m fine. how have you been?” he asks, even his voice sounds sickly.

“i’ve been alright. i’ve missed you.”

“i’ve missed you so much more, y/n. i’m so sorry for how i acted,” he pleads.

“can i ask why? why did you shut me out?”

“it’s so stupid, y/n.”

“you know i could never think you’re stupid, especially when it comes to your feelings. your feelings are never stupid, chris. so tell me, please?”

“i started getting in my head about things. you’re so unbelievably sweet, and caring, and perfect. i don’t deserve you y/n, that’s why i shut you out. i felt like it was easier to just make you hate me then to actually tell you how i was feeling. i can only see myself with you, but i got so worried that you’d realize you’re too good for me, so i thought that maybe if you broke up with me now then i wouldn’t get as hurt later on. i get more and more attached to you every fucking day, y/n. so i was just in my head and felt like you’d one day realize you can do so much better than me, so i just wanted to get the pain over with,” chris says as he bites the insides of his cheeks.

“chris, oh my god? you think i’m too good for you? that’s the furthest thing from the truth! if anything, you’re too good for me! i’d never ever leave you chris, you don’t ever have to worry about that. i can only see myself with you, and i mean it,” you say as tears begin streaming down your cheeks.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i never meant any of it, and im sorry i didn’t fight for us. i wanted to, i really did, but i couldn’t. if you love someone you have to let them go, so that’s what i did. i watched you walk out of my room knowing it was my fault, and it killed me,” chris says softly as tears start falling from his eyes as well.

you pout and wipe his tears with your thumb. “come here baby,” you say pulling him into your chest and running your fingers though his hair. the brunette boy pushes his body against you as close as he can, and you just squeeze him tighter.

“i love you,” you say.

“i love you even more, you have no fucking idea,” he says as he pulls his body away from yours and wipes your tears.

“but really chris, have you slept at all? you look so ill,” you say with a concerned tone.

“not much, i got maybe 1 to 2 hours a night. you never left my mind once, the feeling was eating me alive. i couldn’t sleep knowing you were mad at me.”

“oh chris, let’s go home and take a nap. you deserve it, sweet boy.”

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you

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cheolhub · 1 year

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ALL MINE — XU MINGHAO ࿐

summary. minghao is yours and you are his... his only.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. jealous!hao <3 f!nger!ng, oral (f. receiving), a lottt of possessiveness, kinda mean dom!hao, sub!reader lots of teasing, unprotected s2x, creamp!e, pet names, other members having a crush on u— MINORS DNI 18+

note. happy me weekend ^^ enjoy this fic of my beloved (or don’t, ur choice) reblogs and feedback r so greatly appreciated <3 also @toruro ily

minghao doesn’t like sharing. he hates it. especially when it comes to you. you’re his, for his eyes only. it’s the only reason why he refuses to bring you to hang out with his other friends. seokmin can’t keep his eyes off you, mingyu latches onto you like a puppy in love, jeonghan teases you and makes you giggle– a sound that wouldn’t be as infuriating if it wasn’t caused by another man.

“i wanna see them, too, hao,” you pout after he tells you he’s going out with some of the members.

for some reason, minghao feels his stomach churn. why do you want to see them so badly?

he doesn’t want to be controlling, not in the slightest, but he feels his blood boil every time his loser friends try to make advances on you. it’s not your fault you’re a doll, of course, but that’s all the more reason to keep you to himself.

he sighs, “it’s just dinner, baby, chan and vernon wanted to try this new restaurant and mingyu invited me–”

“still not hearing an excuse as to why i can’t go?” you interrupt, furrowing your eyebrows. “c’mon hao, i haven’t seen them in weeks ‘cause you’ve been gatekeeping them.” you whine from the bed, watching him mess with his hair in front of the mirror.

if only you knew how ironic this was.

eventually, he gives up and allows you to tag along and it’s very apparent how unhappy he is about it. you can tell with his stoic expression and how quiet he is on the drive there. you’re partially worried as to why he was so insistent on getting to stay home, but those worries fade once you see chan, vernon, and mingyu sitting at a table waiting for the two of you.

minghao’s arm wraps around your waist as soon as the small group notices you making your way over. you look up at him confused at his sudden switch in behavior, but ultimately decide against saying anything.

“Y/N!” mingyu cheers, standing from his chair quickly to greet you with a bear hug.

you beam, giggling as he pulls you from minghao’s death grip just to put you in another, “hi, gyu!” you attempt to say, but it’s muffled into his large chest.

when he finally lets go to greet your boyfriend, you look over to vernon and chan and greet them as well, “hi channie, hi vernon,” you smile at them sweetly and they can’t help but smile back while greeting you, both of their cheeks heating up.

you soon feel minghao’s touch on your skin again, and all of a sudden you’re closer to him than you were before. you look up at him for the second time, a look of concern painting your features, “hao?” you murmur.

he ignores your call, “sit at the end next to chan, love,” he tells you instead. he can’t have mingyu slobbering all over his girl.

mingyu protests sitting back in his seat, but minghao isn’t having it. he gently pushes you to the empty seat at the end of the table while he takes the empty one next to mingyu.

dinner goes well. for you at least, and it’s hell for minghao. he’s usually so patient– it takes so much to get him worked up, but with every giggle that leaves your mouth and every single look the boys send your way, he feels the temperature of his blood rise.

the last straw was chan offering to take you to see a new movie– as if minghao would let that slide.

before you could respond to the question, minghao scoffs loudly, “yeah, no.”

he doesn’t want to be that boyfriend. he doesn’t want to forbid you from hanging out with anyone. especially not his best friends. in fact, he should be happy that all of his friends love you, but that’s not what really pisses him off. it’s the fact that most of his friends want you that has him fuming.

he abruptly stands from his chair, pulling out his wallet to throw a few bills on the table, “baby, i don’t feel that great, do you mind if we leave early?” his voice pleading as he looks down at you with a frown.

you take in his expression and you instantly feel bad. “yeah, ‘s okay, we can go.” you murmur, standing to your feet. “bye everyone,” your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, yet you do so anyway at their confused faces before taking minghao’s hand.

he says his goodbyes and pulls you out of the restaurant, hurrying to the car.

you’re not sure what to say as you notice his tight grip on the steering wheel. you don’t want to ask if he’s angry because he very obviously is. you say the only other thing you think will help, “hao… ‘m sorry,”

he immediately softens at your voice, knuckles returning to their original color as he eases up. “what? why are you sorry, love?”

you frown, “well, i know you didn’t want me to come and i get it… some people don’t wanna mix their love life with their friends ‘cause it gets messy.” you ramble in one breath. “i don’t wanna cause any problems–”

“baby, stop, i could never be mad at you, are you kidding?” he turns his head from the road and glances at you for a slight second. you catch a glimpse of his face and you can tell he’s being dead serious. “Y/N… i know you don’t see it, but my friends are attracted to you.”

“what?” you sputter incredulously. “no they aren’t!”

he rolls his eyes, “they most certainly are. i can’t blame them, though, you’re beautiful, but…” he mumbles as you beam at him.

“but?” you question, a tiny, hopeful lilt in your voice.

“but… you’re mine.” he states roughly, feeling his anger bubble up again. “you’re mine and it pisses me off that they think they can have you,” he nearly growls. “they don’t deserve you.”

he was jealous? it made a bit of sense, you think to yourself, but the possessive way he spoke of you… that was new.

you’re not sure what turns you on the most about the profound concept, but it does. you feel your face burn and your stomach swirl in anticipation. you feel your ego boost and the words come out of your mouth before you can comprehend. “and you do?” you say teasingly. “deserve me, i mean?”

“oh, sweetheart,” he croons, a small smirk playing on his lips. “of course i do.”

minghao knows he’s the best for you. he knows it in the way you never want to leave his side. he knows it in the way he’s made you smile every single day the two of you have been together. he knows it in the way he makes you scream and cry and shake while you cum for him every night.

he has no problem proving it to you when you get home, pushing you against the cold door and instantaneously pressing his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. the way you let out a gaspy moan of surprise has his cock twitching as if it’s begging to be inside of you already. you relish in the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to invite him in deeper. his arms move to pull you into him, letting your tits press against his chest.

you don’t really remember how he got you to your room- you can recall the slight stumbling and the way he tightly gripped your body- but you could honestly care less. the only thing you care about is him and the burning desire in your body to just be one with him. the clothing he impatiently shreds off your body don’t matter as long as he fucks you soon.

you whimper softly as he shoves you onto the bed before removing his own clothes. you watch him strip and, god, you feel so fucking lucky. the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing while your arousal soaks through your panties– the only piece of clothing he left on your body.

you feel like you might be able to keep your composure for a bit longer before he slips his cock from his boxers. this time, you moan, “minghao!” your pussy drools and drools and it just won’t stop. his length is so pretty– it’s long and flushed a pretty pink color at the tip. you understand now that you don’t want him. you need him.

“what is it, love?” he sends you a faux pout, hand languidly stroking himself up and down.

“please,” you whine.

his head cocks to the side as he feigns innocence. “please what, baby? you have to tell me what you want.”

“just…show me ‘m yours… show me, please.” you exhale, biting your lip as soon as the words exit your mouth.

he doesn’t react for a second, but then you see his hand halt and the mocking pout is replaced with a smile. not the endearing kind of smile that he usually sends your way, no, this was different. this smile was sinful… unholy even.

he coos gingerly. “oh? you want me to fuck you?” the condescending tone is masked with that syrupy sweet voice that has your stomach doing backflips. you feel so small under his sadistic gaze and you would hate it if it didn’t turn you on so much. “want me to fuck you till all you can think about is your hao making you feel good?”

you let out a tiny gasp before sending him a pretty pout. your bottom lip juts out while you eagerly nod your head at him.

“say it.” he demands while dipping into the mattress, his hand ghosting up your leg causing goosebumps to arise on your heated skin.

“yes…” you whisper as his hand gets closer and closer to your ruined panties.

clearly unsatisfied with your answer, he reels back. “no.” he says gruffly, shaking his head. “say it. all of it.”

you whine again, growing desperate, “yes! yes, hao, want you to fuck me stupid– please? please fuck me, wanna be yours, only yours,” you buck your hips slightly in hopes that he’ll finally give you what you’ve been craving.

it feels like you’ve been waiting a century for him to respond, your mind going to your wildest thoughts. thoughts of him pumping you full of his cum, marking your skin so bad that (even with all the makeup in the world) you couldn’t hide them, fucking you till you see stars– but as soon as you feel his hands tug at your panties, you come back to earth.

“god– fuck, baby,” he groans as he sees your slick cunt. a string of your arousal clings to your panties as he tries to pull the soiled material off. “who’s got you this wet, hm?”

as if he didn’t fucking know.

“you, baby, only you.” you gasp, body heating at the fact that he’s about to touch you. “hao, please, can’t take the teasing ju– shit!”

minghao’s two fingers plunge into your sopping heat, instantly curling inside of your gummy walls. his fingers are soaked immediately and you know because you can feel your wetness beginning to seep from your hole every time he pulls them out.

his fingers, his hands– they’re so much bigger than yours. it’s incomparable. the way he can fill you with just his two fingers while three of yours don’t do the same has your head spinning.

when he curls his fingers in that spot, you mewl and he knows to keep going. he hits your g-spot over and over and over till you’re clamping around his fingers, ready to explode.

“gonna cum for me, pretty?” he pants, extremely turned on by the sight of you twitching and jerking just because of two of his fingers. “gonna let go and soak my fingers, right? ‘cause you’re mine?”

“mhm!” you whimper, nodding your head, unable to give him the verbal response.

his thumb finds your clit and rubs harsh circles into the bud while relentlessly finger fucking you into oblivion. you gasp, moaning out his name over and over till it dies on the tip of your tongue.

your thighs tremble and before you know it, you’re cumming all over his fingers on a high pitched squeal. your pussy tightens, halting his movements and you shake while grinding on his hands to ride out your orgasm.

“fuck, you’re gorgeous, look so pretty like this,” he nearly moans, pulling his fingers out of you. “can you give me more?”

“y-yes!” you exclaim, stuttering since you’re still recovering from your euphoric high. “please, more. i wan’ more.”

he hums, hooking his arms under your knees, eyes lust-ridden as he looks at you, “what do you want now, love? my mouth or my cock?”

you ponder for a minute, debating on the options. you want to say both because god only knows how his cock fills you so nicely. how it always hits all the right places that turn you into a whimpering mess for him. his mouth, though, is heaven-sent. the way he’ll tongue at your hole and his nose bumps your clit gets you so messy, something you both love.

meekly, you ask, “can i have both?”

he tsks, but he can’t hide the smile on his face, “greedy girl…”

he doesn’t wait for your reply, immediately positioning himself in between your legs to eat you out. he presses a tiny kiss to the inside of your thigh and your heart warms at the domestic gesture. even though he’s done it a million times before, you’ll never get over the fuzzy feeling it gives you.

when his mouth wraps around your sensitive clit, you inhale sharply, holding it in your lungs. he moans at the taste of your arousal and cum mixing on his tongue.

his delicate noises send shockwaves through your entire body and your hands can’t help but fly to his head, fingers threading through the silky hair. when his mouth moves to shove his tongue into your leaky hole, you fully choke on a gasp.

“hngg, baby,” you cry softly, arching your back and subtly grinding into his face. the grip he has on your legs tightens as he tirelessly sucks and slurps on your arousal. with your eyes screwed shut, you throw your head back and moan, “fuck, l-like that!”

he hums again, “pussy’s s’good,” he mumbles into your cunt. “tell me how you feel.”

the vibrations of his words prove to be too much as they make you whine again. “so so so good, mouth feels so good, hao, love it so much!” you babble, words slightly rushed and slurred. “fuh-fuck, and you, hao– i love you so much. only you.”

he chuckles against your heat, digging his fingernails into the plush skin of your thighs. your stomach churns as your eyes shut close. you’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm and you fear your brain may turn to mush.

when you open your eyes again you notice he’s looking up at you, stars in his own like he’s completely enamored of you. his tongue drags up your slit slowly before he reaches your puffy, swollen clit. he groans against you when your grip in his hair tightens, tugging harshly at his scalp.

he flicks his tongue against the bud, loving the way your thighs tremble in his hands. you whine and try to buck your hips against his mouth for more. your attempts at grinding against his face prove to be futile when he pins you down and detaches his mouth from your needy bud.

“no no, baby, keep going!” you whine, trying to push his head back, but he shakes your hands off his head. you pout, “gonna make me cry, hao, please keep going,”

he smirks, “then cry, baby, don’t stop on my account.” he says, untangling from your legs. “you were the one who said you wanted both, did you not?”

you whine again, “i did, but i wanted to cum!”

“i think i spoil you too much, love– you just came, no? don’t tell me you forgot already,”

“you don’t spoil me enough, hao,” you huff with a frown. “i didn’t forget, i just wanted to cum again….”

“and you will if you’re a good girl,” he says, hands grabbing at the backs of your knees to push your legs toward your chest. “now are you gonna stop being a brat and let me fuck you, or do you still have more you wanna complain about?”

you shake your head, “i’ll be good…”

“that’s my girl.” he coos, aligning his cock with your hole with a big smile on his face. you gasp feeling the tip press against your aching cunt, but before he continues, he whispers, “now tell me one more time just how bad you want my cock.”

you curse under your breath, obliging with rushed words. “hao, i want it so bad– you know i want it, please don’t tease. i wanna feel you.” you plead.

minghao smiles brightly at you, head spinning at your words. he loves the conformation, loves knowing that he has you wrapped around his fingers. he loves knowing you’re all his to fuck and tease forever.

and so he pushes into your tight cunt, letting the tip stretch you open before cautiously filling you up with his cock. you sob, velvety walls wrapping him up into a tense hug as you clench around him.

“fuck,” he moans, dragging out the word as he bottoms out. the head of his cock reaches deep, scraping against your spongy sweet spot. “baby, fuck, you’re so tight.”

you moan, clenching him tighter. “just fuck me.”

he grunts at the demand, pulling out and slamming into you roughly, “d’ya forget your manners, sweetheart? my cock has you so stupid you forgot how to say please?” he nearly spits as he begins to set his pace.

you choke on your words, throwing your head on to the pillow and arching your back. “s-sorry.” you mewl out and it seems as if the apology makes his speed pick up. with every passing second, you feel him fuck into you faster and faster. the room quickly fills with your joint moans and the sound of his balls slapping against your sloppy pussy.

he’s quiet for a while, just moaning and grunting, but all of a sudden you hear him growl and feel his thrusts get sharper– deeper. “look at me, baby.” he says breathily.

your eyes crack open and you're met with minghao hovering over you, face close to yours. his breath fans across your face and he stares at you intimately. his gaze is so hard and lust-ridden that you almost feel yourself melt into a puddle under him.

his lips ghost against yours, “think anyone could ever fuck you like this?”

“n-no, god, never,” you whine, feeling your brain empty with the way his hips slam against yours vigorously.

he groans, cock twitching at your response. “that’s right. you know why?”

you probably would know the answer if you didn’t feel like you were ascending into another dimension, so you dumbly ask, “w-why?”

he punctuates his words with hard thrusts, the tip of his cock now fully hitting your spot with rigor and precision. “because you’re mine. all fucking mine.”

you cry, body jolting with every thrust into that spot. “fuck, hao! i’m gonna cum again, please don’t stop.”

he moans out your name, giving you more and more, “yeah? gonna cum for me? am i making you feel good?”

you sob loudly, nodding your head and letting your eyes close, “y-yes! uh-huh, gonna cum just for you– makin’ me feel so good, hao, fuck,”

you can nearly taste your orgasm, feeling your stomach tighten and your pussy clench tightly around your lover's length. it quickly bubbles up in the pit of your tummy and when you hear him breathily demand, “cum for me, pretty baby,” there’s nothing you can do to stop your release.

you cum, coating his cock in honeyed arousal as you shake and tremble under him. the moans that leave your mouth are so pretty and minghao feels himself going crazy. you’re all his. only his. he’s beyond lucky that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this.

it has his cock twitching, and without warning, he’s pressing his cock all the way inside of you, spraying your walls with his warm release. he lets out a soft whimper when you clamp around him even tighter, keeping him trapped between your worn, messy walls.

“hao,” you whine mindlessly, body still twitching under his.

“baby,” he replies back, panting out the pet name.

you swallow a whimper, mumbling out, “thank you… for showing me ‘m all yours.”

his heart squeezes in his chest and he chuckles at your words, “anytime, my love.”

taglist🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol

#minghao smut #minghao x reader #the 8 smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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poeghoul · 6 months

Text

hard times iii.

in which they're far too drawn to each other.

word count: 7,852 warnings: mentions of drug usage and abuse, unwanted advances, angst, possessiveness authors note: not proofread. only a few parts left to this series </3 im far too attached to them.

masterlist

part one part two

Y/n made her way out of the diner, the new waiter, Ross, following close behind her. “It’s not too bad, I promise. You’ll get the hang of it soon,” she turned to face him, smiling to try and relieve his anxiety. The poor boy had spilled orange juice all over his black sweater, the thick fabric sticking to his chest, and still slightly damp. “Plus you’ll be taking the night shift and barely anyone comes in.”

He exhaled through his mouth, raising his eyebrows at her, “so that means shit tips, huh?” he joked at her. She pulled her lips into her mouth, hesitant to answer, and when she went to challenge his assumption, he cut her off. “Fuck, really? Shit, I’m fucked,” running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. She pursed her lips at him.

“It’s not awful, I swear. And you’re new, so,” she trailed off, not entirely knowing what to say to the blue eyed boy. “They always start the newbies off at night,” the end of her sentence sounded more like a question, and he just smirked at her and tilted his head to the side.

“You’re shit at making people feel better, you know that?” he grinned at her, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth, shaking his head at her. She grinned at him, exhaling a laugh through her nose. “Ya need a ride or anything?”

“Mm, no I have a ride already, thank you though,” she gestured to the man standing next to the black SUV behind her. A ‘shit’ coming from the boy in front of her. “Yeah,” she pursed her lips. Ever since the first night Jax had picked her up, everyone who worked at the diner bombarded her with a million questions anytime the ‘mystery’ man stood in front of the building; how’d you score that, who is he, how do you know him, etc.

“No offense, but how the fuck are you able to drive that? Or have someone drive you in that,” he stared at her, a befuddled look graced his face.

She tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth for a second, his gaze switching from her eyes to her lips and back once the flesh was released, “um, a friend of mine kinda owes me a favor and this is how he’s paying me back,” she shrugged, her right arm coming up to rub her left, an anxious habit.

A humorless laugh escaped him, “I will never ask for a favor if this is what you’re expecting in return,” he gestured to the car. “I’ll see you in the morning, y/n,” he patted her shoulder before running his hand down her arm, barely even touching the jacket covered skin, and grazed her hand for a moment longer than he should’ve. She blushed from the action, taking in a sharp breath before nodding and bidding him goodbye.

They parted ways; Ross walking to a beat up ‘99 Honda Civic hatchback, and y/n to her (Harry’s) personal chauffeur’s car. She sent a smile to Jax before wrapping her arms around his torso, squishing her face into his chest (he was significantly taller than her, but not as tall as Harry).

“Hey, sweetpea,” he greeted her, she felt the vibrations rumble through his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, a hand coming up to caress the back of her head and a gentle kiss was placed on the crown of her head. “Wanna tell me who that was?” he pulled back to wink at her, she just rolled her eyes unwrapping her arms and crossing them over her chest and he opened the door for her,

“That was Ross, he’s the new waiter I told you about. Not very good though,” she stepped up into the backseat and sat her bag down on the seat next to her. A few weeks ago, she’d be getting in the backseat hoping Harry would greet her with an apology or an explanation. Now, she’d be surprised to even smell Harry’s lingering cologne. He’s been avoiding her since the last time he came to her apartment. No calls, no texts, no interactions whatsoever.

Jax laughed, closing the door before running around the back of the car and hopping in the front seat. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, “that bad, huh?” Her eyes widened and she nodded, her mouth agape.

“I’ve never met anyone that uncoordinated, I swear. He’s great with the customers, he really is, he just can’t balance a tray to save his life,” she sighed, “Dan put a lot of faith in me, too, which makes it worse. Like, I can’t just magically make someone a great waiter, especially if this is their first waiting job.”

“That’s rough, sweetpea, I’m sorry.”

“Is it bad I don’t think he’ll last long?” sympathy laced her tone.

“Not at all, and from the sounds of it, that seems likely,” he shrugged one shoulder and started the car. Pushing the parking brake down, he shifted into reverse before pulling out of the parking lot and on to the main street leading to her studio.

“Yeah,” she pulled her lips into her mouth, looking out the window. She had switched to the morning shift, paranoia suffocating her every night making her shifts much harder to get through without choking on her anxiety. And because no one else was willing to take the night shift, they had to hire another waiter. And apparently, for god knows why, they just had to hire one with no experience. And just had to make y/n train him. A form of punishment, she’s sure. “How was your day?” she looked back to him, eyes trained on his side profile.

“Mm, fine. Uneventful as normal. Just waited around for,” he met her eyes in the rearview, “Mr. Styles,” she looked down at her hands, picking at her over bitten cuticles, dried blood staining her nail beds. “He had another meeting with Mr. Horan,” she nodded slowly. Niall hadn’t even come into the diner. They both had disappeared.

The drive was short, it always was. Soon enough, she was thanking him, like usual, and running up the stairs to her apartment. Unlocking the door, she could hear the bells she had attached to the door handle on the inside sing loudly. It was annoying, but with where her mind had been the past month, she deemed it necessary. Kicking her shoes off, she plopped on her chair, rolling her neck from side to side trying to alleviate the tension.

After her third morning shift, she had started to regret asking to be taken off nights, she had no clue what to do in the middle of the afternoon. When she’d get off around ten, she would come home and get ready for bed and watch a show or scroll through tiktok until she’d be half asleep with the phone slipping from her grasp. It was a routine she’d been used to for about eight months, but developing new routines and sticking to them was not her strong suit.

Getting off this early highlighted how alone she felt. It got dark around 4:30 and winter was creeping in. Her seasonal depression started to settle in, making a home in the cavity of her chest.

+++

Harry sat across from Niall in his home office, sitting back in his expensive Italian leather chair with his leg crossed over his knee. He rarely ever hosted meetings in his home, never trusting anyone enough to invite them in, but Niall was entirely different. He managed to snake his way into Harry’s life; calling and texting him at all hours of the day, inviting him to attend church with his wife and two daughters or out to play a game of golf. Harry was suspicious about the amount of communication and invitations, but learned that Niall was one of the friendliest men he’d ever come across, and eventually accepted an invitation to a game of golf. That was entirely a bad idea, however, since Niall was practically glued to Harry’s side ever since.

He had even told him about what happened with y/n, to which Niall prompted him to just come clean to her about how he felt. But of course, it wasn’t that simple. If it was, Harry would’ve done that the moment he saw his sweet girl shed a tear. They never spoke about it after Harry yelled at Niall to stop meddling.

“Who do you think did it?” Harry asked the blue eyed brunette, referring to a shootout that happened at a Motel 6 twentyseven miles from where they were meeting. Motel 6’s were notorious for drug dealings, though Harry never dared to step foot near one.

Niall shrugged, “could’ve been anyone, really. But I’m sure it had something to do with Justus. He’s always down there, creepin’ around,” a scowl graced his gentle face.

Harry brought his fingers to rest on his mouth, tapping a finger on the skin above his lip and raising an eyebrow at the man's theory, “Hm, Justus, aye?” Niall nodded. “ ‘S a possibility, he loves his motels. Who else could’ve been down there, though? Couldn’t have just been a deal gone wrong, he had to have stepped on someone’s toes.”

“Well, it-” Niall cut himself off, perking up as he put the pieces together in his head, “Payne. It was fucking Payne, god that prickhead.”

“Niall, that name holds no significance with me, who is that?”

“Liam Payne,” Niall answered, leaning forward, “terrible prices, terrible stock, always lacing whatever he’s able to get his hands on to sell for less,” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Laced a batch of coke with fent and killed twelve people but of course, being who he is, no one ever ratted him out. Hells gonna swallow him whole rightfully so.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed out, “let’s hope he makes his way up here,” a grin took over his features. Niall stared at him in confusion.

“Why’s that? Don’t want him anywhere near me, if ‘m bein honest.”

“Well, you won’t have to deal with him. I’ll happily take care of him.”

Niall gulped, “I don’t know Harry, he’s shitty but,” he paused, trying to think of the right phrasing, “powerful. Very powerful.”

Harry’s grin widened, the skin around his eyes wrinkling, “and I’m not?” he retorted. Niall shook his head, chuckling, knowing where Harry was headed. “Like I said, I’ll happily take care of him.”

“Devious bastard.”

Niall and Harry said their goodbyes, one of Harry’s men walking him out. Harry sat in his office, alone again. He sat back in his chair, messing with the H and S rings on his left hand, his mind wandering to his little lamb, whom he hadn’t seen in far too long. He wondered if she thought of him, wondered if her thumb ever hovered over the call button under his name in her contacts like he had done with her. She consumed his thoughts daily. He’d ask Jax about how her day went and why she switched to the morning shift, to which Jax couldn’t answer truthfully as he didn’t even know.

Papers scattered the desk in front of him, numbers, dollar signs and crossed out names on nearly every page. The amount of clutter on the desk made him restless, unable to think straight, but he couldn’t bring himself to organize it in any way. He’d begin to put things away but would quickly get overwhelmed with the amount of shit he had to file away. So, he just stared at the piles, his mind occupied by the girl he didn’t get a chance to know, by his own fault.

He reached into his jacket pocket, reading the time, 4:37 pm, and his notifications, looking for one in particular.

Jax D.

She’s home safe, area secured.

A small smile graced his lips, happy she was home safe and unharmed. He wished she would’ve told him instead, however. Wishing to hear the words fall from her pretty pink lips. He tapped at the screen to respond.

Harry:

Good. Thank you.

He set his phone down, his heart aching in his chest, missing his sweet little lamb.

+++

“What are you doing tonight?” Ross asked y/n as she unlocked the front doors for the pair, she looked at him over her shoulder as she pulled the door open.

“Mm, probably nothing, I work tomorrow morning so I don’t really wanna do much,” she let him walk in before her, following him inside before locking the door behind them. “Why, what’s up?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Just curious, damn,” he held his hands up in surrender, she rolled her eyes and laughed at him.

“Well, why are you curious?” The two made their way into the back room, setting their stuff in their designated lockers. She sat down on the bench, retying the shoelace that had come undone. He sat in front of her, legs on either side of the bench.

“Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to do something cause I’m off tomorrow and I assumed you were too so,” he shrugged, staring at her as she sat across from him.

She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. “Oh,” she nodded slowly. “What were you thinking?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “what did you wanna do?”

“Oh, I’m dumb, I thought you meant, like, what are you thinking,” he said in a scolding tone, she laughed. “But whatever you wanna do, we can see a movie or something.”

She nodded her head slowly, contemplating the idea. It wouldn’t be bad, she could get a blue and red icee, but she didn’t want to give up her daily alone time (with working in the service industry, she looked forward to that very much needed time). But with how melancholy she’d been feeling lately, the alone time became very depressing after an hour.

“I’m down,” she smiled at him, a dimple cutting into her cheek. “What do you wanna see? The new Priscilla movie is out, I really wanna see that but we don’t have to watch that if you don’t want to,” she rambled.

“That’s Elvis’ wife right?” She nodded, “I love Elvis,” she cringed. She had a deep hatred for him and his stupid voice and stupid hair. She vowed to never step foot in Vegas because of him. “Let’s do it. Check the times, do you wanna go after work so you’re not staying out too late?”

“Oh yeah that’s actually perfect.”

He grinned back at her, “perfect. It’s a date.”

He got up before she had the chance to correct him; it was absolutely not a date.

+++

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, buttoning up a crisp white shirt. He had returned home from his morning jog and worked out for a little over two hours before getting in the shower and readying himself for the day. No meetings planned, which he was thankful for. He just had to foresee a shipment coming in from Arizona, some of the finest coke he had ever seen was set to come in today and he didn’t trust anyone enough to not tamper with the sweet white powder. Jax, Daniel and Lee met him in the hallway, ready to take him to the warehouse, while the rest of his men were already on their way.

“Morning, Mr. Styles,” one of the burly men greeted him, Harry didn’t bother to respond to the greeting, instead looking to Jax to inquire about his angel.

“She was dropped off at 5:45 this morning, I watched her go inside with the new waiter. She texted me she doesn’t need a ride home but I’ll still check the area out when she’s set to be off,” Harry’s neck almost snapped with the way he turned so quickly.

“What? Did she say why she doesn’t need a ride home?”

Jax shook his head, “She didn’t, sir.”

“Show me the texts,” he stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching out, waiting for the phone to be placed in his palm. Jax hesitated. Harry narrowed his eyes at him becoming impatient. “Show me the texts, now.” Jax reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone and tapped on the screen before handing it over to Harry.

Y/n 🐇☁️

Ross said he can give me a ride today:) love u see u in the morning

Harry reread the message four times over, his heart caught in his throat. He turned the screen off and gave the phone back to Jax, turning on his heel to walk out to the car. He settled in the backseat, Lee next to him, while Jax and Daniel sat in the front.

He sat staring out the window, the car not even moving yet. His breathing rapid, his heartbeat similar to one of a rabbit getting caught in the grip of a hawk.

He broke the uncomfortable silence, “Is Ross the new waiter?” Jax nodded, nonverbal. “He seems interested in her?” Again, the man nodded, not daring to say anything more thinking it would just piss him off further. But Harry wasn’t angry, he was more hurt than anything. He knew he had no right to be upset in any way, afterall he walked out on her, but it still didn’t sit well with him. “What time is she set to be off today?” He turned, looking at the man in the passenger seat.

“Scheduled off at 2:30, but depends on if she’s finished with her tables. She's still training the new waiter so it could be longer than that. She said he’s not very good,” Jax threw the last bit in there to appease Harry. It worked.

“You’ll switch cars for the day, you can take the beemer, I want to see her make it home safe.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

+++

Y/n and Ross made their way out of the diner, headed to his beat up little car (he swore it was the coolest “ride” and that the ladies “loved” it). He would take y/n home so she could change and lend him one of her oversized shirts, offering him that after they made the plan to go right after work thinking he’d be uncomfortable in a food stained sweater. He declined the offer at first but after he spilled a copious amount of coffee and syrup on him, he asked if it was still on the table.

Harry and Jax sat in the heavily tinted Beemer watching the pair as they walked out of the double doors and into the piece of shit, as Harry put it. He was fuming, his foot tapping against the carpeted mats of the car as he clenched his jaw, Jax thought he was closing to breaking a few teeth or the mandible all together. The two men followed them as they made their way to y/n’s.

Harry hadn’t been in this area in a week's time; he had been following Jax in that very car, watching to make sure she was actually making it safe to her little home.

He watched as he parked his car on the street, and watched as they walked up the stairs and stood at the door for him to unlock it. That made him even more angry, how was she so comfortable with a man she barely knew to allow him in her apartment?

The chiming of bells rang through her apartment as she pushed open the door.

“Bells?”

She nodded, “I’m a girl living alone, kinda a necessity,” she shrugged, setting her keys down. “Thirsty?” He shook his head.

“Ya know something’s really gotta be done about that.” She looked at him, a confounded look on her face.

“What?”

“Like women are scared to live alone, that’s, like, really shitty. And pads and tampons should be free.” She stared at him, her head cocked to the side before shaking her head and approaching her dresser.

“I have a few sweaters you can borrow too if you’re cold,” she reached into her pajama drawer and pulled out an old Jimi Hendrix shirt she had purchased at a record store from her hometown years ago. The neckline was fraying and the graphic design was barely dark enough to where it was easy to make out.

“Yeah, I’ll take one if that's alright,” he smiled at her, holding the t-shirt up in front of him. “Do you actually like Hendrix or is this just like a hand-me-down?”

She rolled her eyes, going through the bin of sweaters she had, trying to find one that would actually fit his lanky, but tall, frame. “Yes, I actually like him, asshat. I have Are You Experienced on vinyl,” she nodded her head to the turntable that sat in the corner, near her bathroom door. A collection of vinyl growing dust sat on the bottom shelf of the stand it sat on.

“Damn my bad, cupcake.” She hated that. She hated how he called her ‘cupcake’ or ‘sweetie’. She hated how it sounded, hated how it made her feel, hated how degrading it was. She handed him a plain gray sweater, saying nothing, not making eye contact. “Thanks,” he took it from her, his hand grazing hers in an unnecessary manner. Without warning, he pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with the t-shirt she had handed him. He was just standing in her room basically half naked.

“Oh,” she said, turning around and facing the opposite of him. He laughed from behind her. She wished she had chosen her alone time. Or at least asked to see the movie later in the day as she was going on nine hours of being with the boy.

“I’m decent now.” She turned to face her dresser again, filing through her shirt drawer looking for a long sleeve to wear under her sweater. Even with the chilly fall weather, movie theaters cranked their ac all the way up. “I’m gonna change in the bathroom,” she shut the door after getting the last word of her sentence out, thankful to have a moment to herself.

While she was undressing her upper half, she heard a pounding on the door, the bells clanking against the wood. “Hey are you okay?” she shouted.

“Yeah,” he yelled back to her, “there’s some guy at your door, should I open it?”

Some guy? She couldn’t think of anyone who would drop by randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, other than Jax but he knew she didn’t need a ride so it couldn’t have been him, right?

“Gimme a sec,” she tugged her long sleeve over her head and opened the bathroom door, pulling her hair out of the neckline.

She covered the eyehole for a moment before briefly looking into it, but someone was covering the other side of it. She glanced back at Ross, shrugging her shoulders, silently asking what she should do.

“Here, I got it,” he approached her and she stepped back to give him some space. He cracked the door open slightly, just enough space for his head to be visible from the other side. “Hey can I help you?”

The door was pushed open, Ross groaning at the force from the man on the other side. Harry stomped his way in the apartment, looking around the space before his eyes landed on her. His gaze softened. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

“Dude, you can just fucking come into someones house man,” Ross said from behind him. Harry rolled his eyes, turning to face the significantly smaller boy.

“Don’t fucking call me dude, who the fuck are you?” Harry yelled as he approached him, towering over him and backing him into the wall.

Ross swallowed, his back hitting the brick wall. “I-uh, who are you?” he retorted, Harry chuckled.

“What are you doing here?” y/n spoke up, taking a step closer to him. Harry turned, locking eyes with her again.

He didn’t have an explanation that didn’t make him sound insanely jealous and possessive of someone who wasn’t even his. “I, y/n, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I’m sorry.”

“Can we go outside for a second?” Harry nodded, his hand on the doorknob waiting for her to come with him. He closed the door behind him. She didn’t say anything, a sad look on her face.

Harry’s hand twitched beside him, wanting so desperately to pull her into him to hold her or even to touch her cheek again. She poked at the chipped nail polish on her nails.

“I still haven’t made any banana bread,” she broke the silence. A smile made a home on Harry's lips.

“Hmm, that’s exactly why I came, how’d you know?” she smiled up at him, a gleam in her eyes. Harry’s smile wavered. His hands twitched again, his subconscious begging him to run, begging him to stay far away from the sweet angel that stood in front of him.

“ ‘S just a guess,” her head dipped down again, her arms coming to wrap around her torso as the autumn air nipped away at her.

They stood in silence for a moment, none of the two knowing what to say after weeks of no contact. Harry felt he couldn’t ask her about the morning shift or about the things Jax has told him about her life recently; he wasn’t invited into that part. Rather, he uninvited himself to that part of her life when he sent he Jaxs information then proceeded to go back and forth with blocking and unblocking her number.

“We’re going to see Priscilla, it starts pretty soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t know you were an Elvis fan.”

“I’m not,” she was quick to disprove the claim, “it’s not about him, it’s about his child bride.” Harry chuckled.

“Hm, I’m not too fond of the ‘Viva Las Vegas’ bastard either,” she smiled, wryly. “I’ll head out then, I hope you enjoy your night,” he turned on his heel, she followed behind him, meeting him at the stairs.

“Harry,” he turned, surprised with how close she was. “If you’d like, um, you can come over after I get home.”

“I’d love to,” he grinned at her.

“Harry?” They were so close to each other.

“Yes?”

“You promise you’ll come back?” His heart broke, practically shattered at that. He shook his head fervently.

“Yes. Yes, y/n, I’ll come back once you tell me to.”

“I’ll see you soon, Harry.”

“I’ll see you soon, y/n.”

Harry descended down the stairs, she stayed in her spot, peering over the railing to watch him walk away. She hoped he’d keep his promise. The front door to her apartment creaked, Ross peeking his head out, warily.

“He gone?” she nodded, heading back into her space. “Who was that? He’s scary as shit, cupcake. How do you know him?” he asked, bewildered by the mysterious man who practically burst into her home.

“Ya know that friend who owes me a favor?” He nodded. “That’s him. He’s kinda temperamental, I’m sorry,” a pursed smile was sent to him as an apologetic gesture.

“Kinda is an understatement, sweetheart.” There it was again. A nickname coated in degradation. One she hated coming from him, but if Harry or Jax had said it, it would absolutely be and feel different.

“Are you ready to go, I’m sure we’re gonna miss all the trailers and you know what’ll happen if I don’t get my blue and red Icee.” she joked.

“First, I truly doubt something bad is going to happen to the county of Placerville and second its blue raspberry and cherry. Not blue, not red.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah whatever, let’s go dipshit.” His laugh boomed through the room as she picked her keys off the counter.

+++

Y/n was sobbing. Her heart caught in her throat as Elvis was forcing Priscilla to pack a bag to take to her parents after she confronted him about finding a love note in his jacket pocket. He was terrifying and the movie just reinforced how poorly she thought of the beloved singer.

A hand grazed her knee, finding a place on her thigh. She was stunned, not daring to move her leg in any way. The thumb moving from side to side, a reassuring gesture, sure, but coming from someone she didn’t think of in any way other than a coworker; it was unwanted, unjustified. She swallowed back the acid building in her throat and reached for her watered down Icee, sipping on the cool liquid. She still hadn’t moved the hand and she wouldn’t for the remainder of the film, far too scared of potential consequences.

A flood of relief washed over her when the movie ended and the lights returned. A halo of light above their heads woke the sleeping boy next to her.

He stretched out, “ ‘s over?” she nodded.

“I take it you weren’t a fan?”

He shook his head, “I don’t think I was the target audience,” he shrugged, “you liked it?”

She nodded, “I loved it.”

They stood from their seats and headed for the exit, she tossed her melted Icee remnants and popcorn before they exited the building entirely. It was completely dark out and pouring. They ran to his car, trying to outrun the downpour embracing them.

Silence covered them as they sat in the car, the heater spat out cold air before finally heating the space to a more comfortable temperature. He put the car into reverse and sped out of the parking lot. Soft indie music played through the speakers, no artists y/n had particularly liked but she wouldn’t complain as she wasn’t the one driving.

His hand found a home on her thigh again, higher than the previous unwanted gesture was. She glared down at it for a moment before grabbing his hand in between her thumb and pointer finger, moving it so it sat on the gear shift instead. He chuckled.

“Sorry, thought it was fine since,” he turned to glance at her before looking back out the windshield, “you didn’t move it earlier.”

She stared at her hands in her lap, swallowing the saliva building up in her mouth. “I, um,” she pulled her lips into her mouth for a moment, “I’m not really interested in you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” he took a sharp breath, before laughing. “I’m really bad at reading people. I’m sorry, I got the wrong idea.” Relief washed over her.

“No don’t worry, I’m also extremely passive and I can’t really express myself like I should, I don't know.”

“Well, it's both our faults then,” he smiled at her and she sent one right back.

Harry watched as he put his car into park, having made it back to her apartment complex before them as his car went much faster than his beat up civic. He watched as y/n reached over the middle console to hug the boy and watched as she got out to ascend the stairs. Now he would simply wait to get a text to invite him up.

Y/n opened the door, greeted by her bells, and flicked on the lights. She ran around her studio, trying to tidy up quickly, and lit a pumpkin spice candle before running into the bathroom to take a quick shower, desperate to wash the rain scent off her (and Ross’ lingering touch).

Harry sat in his car, his fingers dancing along the dashboard impatiently as he wondered what was taking her so long. Naturally, his mind went to the worst case scenario; someone broke in and is holding her hostage or she fell and twisted her ankle and is screaming on the floor from the debilitating pain or-.

His phone chimed, her message casting a glow onto his face.

Y/n:

i’m home now you can head over whenever:)

His anxiety was alleviated from her text message, a confirmation of her safety and wellbeing. He immediately got out of his car, the warmth from the heated seats almost disappeared instantly with how cold and wet it was. And like her, he ascended the stairs to knock on the door.

On the inside, y/n was confused by the knocking, not realizing it was Harry with how quickly the knocking happened after she sent the text. She peered through the peephole and immediately opened the door, not wanting him to stay in the cold much longer. The bells on the handle sang.

“Bells?” She nodded. “Hm.”

“It’s a safety thing, I guess.”

“You don’t feel safe?” He stepped closed to her as she shut the door behind him.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t feel safe, I just wanted extra precaution,” she shrugged.

“If you don’t feel safe I’ll have Jax stay in the area and have hourly check ins or we can relocate you or-”

“Relocate? Harry, no it’s not that big of a deal I just wanted to be able to hear the door from the shower.” Harry glared at her.

“Not that big of a deal? Y/n, your safety is a huge deal.”

“Can we drop it? Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” she approached her bed and sat down, picking up a decorative pillow to mess with the trim.

Harry sighed and sat next to her on the bed, moving her hair from her face. She looked at him, the glimmer in her eyes returning. The little voice in Harry’s head returned, even louder, shouting at him to leave her alone; to get out of there and never look back.

“We can drop it, but you need to tell me if you ever feel unsafe, little lamb, understood?” She nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a warning tone, “tell me you understand, please.

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Yes, Harry, I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“How’d you get here so fast?” Harry froze, trying to come up with an excuse but blanking, just staring at her for a minute while his mind went a million miles an hour. “Harry?”

“I, I kinda just stayed in the parking lot while you were gone.”

She laughed. “No way, you waited more than two hours? Just sitting in your car?” he hesitantly nodded, a blatant lie.

He absolutely did not wait in his car outside of her apartment. He followed them to the theater, bought himself a ticket to the same movie, and sat at the very top with his head low, and watched them the entire time. He watched as her shoulders shook from crying, watched as she ate her candy and drank her Icee, watched when the boy she was with, whose name he never bothered learning, placed his hand on her lap. He watched them leave the theater with anger coursing through him.

“You didn’t have to do that, Harry.” He shrugged, not caring to continue this conversation.

“Why are you on mornings now?”

She sighed, “I got scared,” her tongue was thick in her mouth, scared to cry again if it resulted in him leaving once more and ending contact for another month. His hand met her back, lightly rubbing the tender flesh beneath his rough hand. Her hands fumbled with the zipper on the pillow. “The night we met really freaked me out. Like when you left, I swore someone was still here watching me. It was freaky. And the next morning I was so drained, I think that's why I forgot Jax was coming to get me. And then the time changed and I got even more scared cause I would just basically be working in the dark the entire shift and I don’t know I just psych myself out sometimes,” she ended her tangent, partially forgetting to breathe throughout it.

Harry’s hand moved to tangle in her hair, slightly gripping the strands between his fingers, before removing his touch from her all together.

“And you forgot your phone,” he joked, a soft smile on his lips.

She pulled her lips in her mouth, exhaling a laugh through her nose, “and I forgot my phone.”

Silence dawned on them once more. A comfortable one, neither needing to speak as they basked in each other's presence.

She scooted closer to Harry, her head making contact with his shoulder. Harry gulped at the contact, unsure of what to do with himself. His hand raised, touching her cheek gently. They sat there, in silence, for what felt like an eternity. A comfortable, blissful eternity.

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder, her breathing became evenly paced and softer. Harry laid her down under her sheets, and saw himself out after kissing her forehead and blowing out her candle.

+++

Y/n was having an okay day, nothing bad had happened at work, so far. No rude customers, no shitty tips and best of all, no training needed to be done. So, yes her day was going well. Until she received a message from Harry saying they needed to have a talk and that he’ll be picking her up. He was consistent with punctuation, but the period at the end of his sentence horrified her. She was a sweaty, anxious mess her entire shift.

She reread the message every ten minutes. Time was moving so slow. Her anxiety was eating away at her, like it had been starving for months and had finally found a body to ravage to satiate the hunger. She had four cigarettes during her shift.

Harry leaned against the passenger door of his car, waiting for y/n’s shift to end. She could feel his eyes on her every time she passed by the window at the front to attend to her last table, she knew he was watching her; he was so attentive. It made her sick.

When her shift finally ended, after what felt like an eternity and a half, y/n pushed the doors open and made her way to Harry. He looked down at her with a smirk. She hoped he couldn’t see her throat bobbing while she swallowed down the excess saliva building in her mouth.

“Ya kept me waiting, little lamb.” he opened the car door for her and she could feel her coworkers staring out the window at the pair.

“‘M sorry.” She sat on the heated seat, placing her bag on the floor between her feet. Harry leaned over her to connect her seatbelt. “Thank you,” she muttered before Harry closed the door.

“How was your shift?” he asked as he buckled himself in.

“S’fine.” she mumbled.

“Angel,” her heart pounded against her sternum, you could practically hear her heartbeat in the silence. “What have I told you about mumbling?”

She bit her lip, gnawing on it before answering. “You don’t understand it.” she practically whispered.

“That’s right, little lamb. Now, why do you keep doing it?”

She could cry, sob and dry heave even. Fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness as if she had angered a god. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.” she fiddled with her fingers. Harry’s hand grabbed her own and pinched the inside of her palm, a squeal escaping her lips. He laughed.

“Don’t apologize, ‘m just messing with you,” he smiled at her as he parked his car, already at her complex. He was quick to undo his seatbelt and get out, running to her side to open the door for her. “After you.” he gestured to the stairs, allowing her to go in front of him.

She opened the door, her bells greeting the two. She stood by the door as Harry took a seat in her chair (it finally was free of clean clothing).

“Can you tell me what you want to talk to me about? Please?”

“Eager?” she nodded.

“More scared than anything.” her breathing was heavy.

“Oh, my sweet lamb.” remorse covered his face, so sorry and upset he had made a literal angel wait in apprehension. He stood from his spot on the chair and moved to stand before her. Without hesitation, he held her face in the palm of his hand, her nuzzling into the warmth of his touch. “I’m sorry I scared you, didn’t mean to, angel.”

“S’okay, Harry, I know.”

“Sit with me,” he removed his hand from her face, instead reaching for her hand to sit with him on the chair. He sat and patted his lap, an invitation for her.

“There’s not enough space for the both of us.”

He tugged on her arm, “s’fine, just sit.”

“Harry, that chair is 100 years old, I’m not breaking my favorite antique piece.”

“Y/n,” his tone laced with warning.

“Harry,” she whined back. “Just sit on the bed with me please.” she pouted.

And, of course, Harry would give in, standing up with her hand still in his and sitting on the bed to please her. Their thighs were touching with the proximity of their bodies, y/n hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat or feel the sweat coating her palm.

“Can you tell me now, please.” she rested her head on his shoulder, Harry could hear her pouting as she spoke.

He sighed, squeezing her hand in his. “I feel very,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts so as to not scare her with how he truly felt. “I feel very protective of you, y/n.”

“Wow that’s a shocker,” she interrupted, sarcastically.

“Y/n” he warned, again.

“Sorry. Go ‘head.”

“No interruptions, please.” she nodded, “Good girl.” she grinned, “I feel very protective of you and I thought leaving you alone would make it not as intense but it definitely only made it worse, angel. I just, I need to know you’re safe and okay and I have no idea why but I just need to know. Your safety means so much to me, your wellbeing.” he swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. “I need to tell you, or warn you, about what I do.”

She lifted her head, making eye contact with him, a puzzled look replacing her previously smitten expression.

“I kinda sell drugs.” Still, she maintained eye contact. He looked at her, waiting for a response.

“Is that it?”

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

“You sell drugs?” he nodded. “Oh okay.”

Still, Harry stared at her, bewildered by her nonchalant response. “You’re okay with that?”

“Harry, there’s like ten people in this town with nothing to do, literally everyone deals or buys. Not a big deal.” she shrugged a shoulder, her fingers messing with his rings.

Still, he stared at her, his expression growing concerned. “It’s not just weed, y/n.” She laughed, his eyes were bulging, his jaw slack and a furrow in his brow.

“I can assume it’s not just weed, you won’t be making much with just weed here.”

“Your casualness with what I’m telling you is concerning.”

Her smile faded, “I'm sorry, what do you want me to say?”

He ran his hand through his hair, dropping his gaze to their hands entwined. “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to be so calm.”

“I used to do coke,” she shrugged. Harry’s eyes snap to hers, squeezing her hand a little more. “I had really bad issues maybe, like, last September. It was really bad, the withdrawals were insane but one of my friends' brothers had, um,” she swallowed down the acid building in her throat. "He got some laced with fent and he passed. My friend only got worse because of it and the guy who sold him it didn’t even care, he was just like ‘well that happens sometimes’, such a fucking asshole like he had just killed someone and that didnt even spark anything in him! I stopped after that cause I was so scared,” she admitted. “My friend never got better, he had to move in with his parents and they forced him to go to rehab but that didn’t even help.”

“I’m sorry.” was all Harry could offer.

She looked up at him through her lashes, “I trust you, Harry. I do. But if you’re selling anything laced,” she shook her head, her breathing picking up.

“I’m not, angel I promise I’m not, I’d never.” he let go of her hand, placing both hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him.

“If you ever work with Liam Payne I’ll kill you.” He laughed at her threat, the name going over his head at the idea of a girl her size trying to cause harm to a man of his stature. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m being serious, Harry. If you ever work with him I’ll never wanna see you again. Liam is a terrible person. I don’t want you to get involved in that too.”

He deadpanned, “Liam Payne?” she nodded. “How do you know him?”

“Who do you think sold the laced batch?” Harry was furious. He removed his hands from her face, standing up and letting out a frustrated groan. “What’s wrong? Do you know him?”

“No,” he responded immediately. “Never met him, Niall was telling me about him. There was a shootout the other day and we think it was him, probably was that stupid fuck. He could be the reason we fucking get caught! Fuck!” he shouted, the girl flinched, her gaze returning to her hands.

“I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't mean to make you mad at me.”

He stared at her, his breathing heavy. She couldn’t look at him, wouldn’t dare to make eye contact with him out of fear of him taking it out on her. She knew deep down, however, he would never lay a finger on her; never cause any harm to her whatsoever. But the thought was still prevalent.

“ M'not mad at you, never at you, little one. Look at me,” she looked up at him, her eyes meeting the green ones she adored. He sat back on the bed, taking her face in his hands one more. “not at you at all. Promise.” she nodded, grabbed his hands from her face and nuzzled her face into his neck, her hands gripping his jacket. “I’m sorry for scaring you, won't do it again.” he apologized as he rubbed her back.

“Thank you.” she kissed the side of his neck, momentarily feeling his pulse with her lips. Harry’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Harry wished he could stay like that forever, with her warmth against his, her face nestled in his neck. Peace was finally in his grasp, holding onto it so delicately like a fine piece of china, far too scared to drop it and destroy the delicate art, but it was never in his nature to be deft. He’d take what he could get, and if this was all he would be offered, he would accept it with open arms and a half empty heart. He longed to be full again.

and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07

if your @ is in red the tag doesn’t work. thanks for reading and supporting ₊˚⊹♡

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spidrstar · 10 months

Text

A LITTLE BIT MORE

★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader

★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?

★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.

★ w/c: 2k

★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏

“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”

You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.

For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.

You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)

“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.

“Can we please just take a small break?”

“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”

“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”

He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..

“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”

“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.

Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.

He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.

“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.

You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”

Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.

“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”

You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.

“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.

He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.

“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.

You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..

You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.

“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.

“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”

You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.

“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.

“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.

You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”

Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.

“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”

“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“

You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.

“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.

“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.

“Yes you will! I know you!”

“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.

You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.

“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.

“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.

“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.

All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.

“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”

Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.

“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”

“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”

You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.

“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.

“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.

Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.

“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.

“Yes?”

“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.

“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.

“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.

A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;

‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’

‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’

‘What if he thought I was weird?’

‘What if he hates me now?’

Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.

He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.

“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”

You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.

“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.

With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.

Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.

The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.

He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.

“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.

★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||

TAGS:

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #spider man #spiderman #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles x you #miles morales x you #miles x y/n #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman atsv #spider man into the spider verse #into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #STAR★WRITES

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rv3rblog · 8 months

Text

continuing my alpha!gaz rambling but this is when he calls you that one night that made the whole domino effect.

imagine 141 in the background, trying to get his phone away from him because he confided in them that he isn't courting you yet.

all you hear is some men screaming muffled and gaz giggling as he gets away from them.

you hear him shoot over his shoulder that he's going to talk to his pretty omega.

you see him close the door and his face is in clear view now. he's smiling a little silly, giggling as he lays on his bed.

the first couple of sentences he tells you are muffled, you don't know what he's telling you. you ask him to speak up and he does.

"miss you.. my pretty omega."

it honestly catches you off guard.

"really like when you send me things with your scents, lets other omegas know i'm taken."

you try to laugh it off but the way he's looking at you let's you know he's dead serious and it makes you shiver.

"like your scent, so sweet. 's why i call you my sweet omega sometimes you know?"

"kyle."

"mm? i miss you love, miss my omega."

it never truly escaped you how kyle would add my to anything he called you. it was a claim, possessive.

(and alphas were known for being possessive.)

you let yourself relish in the possessiveness, not daring to let go of the little bubble of what could be.

"miss you too kyle."

he grumbles under his breath and you see him shifting around to get comfortable on his bed. he looks back at you with such softness, so much adoration.

"miss your scent," he tells you. "your pillow case doesn't smell like you anymore."

he's whining, a pout on his face as if someone took away his favorite cap.

"i can send you another one."

"mhm, please. miss your scent pretty, wanna scent you. need all the other alphas to know you belong to me. wanna smell like you too."

“you’re drunk kyle,” you whisper softly.

“not that drunk darlin’ trust me, ‘m know what i’m saying.”

you shake your head softly, not fully believing him but deciding against telling him again.

“my sweet omega, my omega.”

“mm?”

“we get a leave soon darlin’ after this,” he tells you softly. “get to see you real soon.”

“that’s good kyle,” you reply. “i missed you a lot.”

“mhm? i missed you too darlin’ god, i missed you too much,” he rambles. “miss scenting you, did you know that? like it when you smell like me.”

you smiled softly at him.

“my sweet darlin’ yeah?”

alpha’s and their possessiveness.

“always yours kyle.”

“good.”

the two of you fell asleep on the phone, soft breathing getting picked up through the mics. the next morning you wake up to a text message.

i’ll see you by the end of the week love

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marksbear · 1 year

Text

YANDERE STEVEN GRANT X MALE READER

Pt2 of this! And yes I took like two hours trying to figure out how to make a link like that 😭.

As Steven tries to catch up with Y/n speed walking with all his might Y/n makes it hard. Y/n does a bunch of turns like left and right cutting sharp corners and so on.

Sadly Steven finally corners Y/n once he reaches a dead end. "Y/n. Why were you trying to avoid me?" Steven asks walking closer to Y/n with a confused and innocent look.

"I wasn't avoiding you silly. I was looking for our cart! Cmon Steven I would never." Y/n says with sarcasm laced in his voice. Steven doesn't catch the sarcasm as has a warm smile on his face.

"I-I knew that you wouldn't do that, what was I thinking." Steven says before hooking his arm into Y/n's own dragging him around the store as he rambles on and on.

After getting the cart and a few more items the couple go to check out. As they stand in line Steven notices a bunch of girls all staring at Y/n as if he was famous or something.

Steven's hold grew tighter as he held onto Y/n possessively. Obviously Y/n noticed the group of girls and flashed them a quick friendly smile before scooting up in the line. Steven gives the group a small glare before thinking about a plan. "Y/n. Can you kiss me?" Steven asks sweetly and innocently causing Y/n to momentarily forget about how strange his boyfriend is.

Y/n leans down until he close to Steven and presses a light kiss on his lips before pulling away shortly. Steven could feel the eyes of those girls burning into his back, but he couldn't help but smirk in victory.

Finally the couple were next at checkout. As the employee scans their items they engage in a light wholesome conversation.

Steven couldn't help but get jealous. He himself didn't know why he was feeling betrayed and a bit hurt every time Y/n talked to someone that wasn't him.

But Steven being so delusional he thought that Y/n must feel the same when he talks to someone that isn't him, so when the worker tried to talk to him he just looked away giving them the cold shoulder.

"Don't mind that. He isn't really a social person." Y/n says trying to help with the confusion the worker has.

After Y/n pays for everything he and Steven pick up the bags and goes to their car making way to there journey to home.

During the car ride Steven had his eyes glued onto Y/n most definitely making him uncomfortable. The car ride was silent and tense making the car stuffy. Y/n would glance around the car hoping that there's something to get Steven's attention off of him. Y/n lets out a deep sigh before pulling over at a friends house.

"Steven. I gotta go inside there. My friend has something of mine that I need alright. I'll be right back." Y/n says gesturing to the house in front of them. "I'll come with you!" Steven blurts out leaving no time to argue as he leaves the car. Y/n lets out a quiet groan before leaving the car waking into the house.

Y/n gives the door a few knocks as Steven leans his body onto Y/n's wrapping his arms around him. Y/n lay his chin on top of Steven's head relaxing and humming a song softly. For a minute the couple looked so peaceful and beautiful. In each other's arms it looks like their relationship is fully healthy. But that couldn't be father from the truth.

Finally the door peaks open slowly. "Y/n? I didn't think you were coming until next week?" A male voice says before opening the door fully. "Well I wasn't, but since I was near I just figured I would just come today." Y/n says unwrapping his arms from Steven. but Steven doesn't let go.

"You two wanna come inside?" "No thanks, we got groceries in the car y'know. so it will just be best if you bring it to me." Y/n says shooting down the offer with an excuse. The friend nods his head yes in understatement and shuts the door.

"He's pretty..."Steven mumbles out looking up at Y/n. "Yeah I guess he is." Y/n says not really caring. Steven could feel his blood run cold. "Y-you think he's prettier than me don't you!?" Steven blurts out feeling his eyes begin to water from sadness and angrier.

Y/n was taken a bit back and looked down at Steven's eyes wide. "W-what?! No Steven god no! Where did you get that from?" Y/n says moving his hands down to Steven's face cupping his cheeks holding his head up. Tears begin to pour down from Steven's face making Y/n's heart begin to ache.

"Cmon Stevey don't cry. Steven- baby don't cry please." Y/n says trying to comfort him.

"Hey lets go home alright. And once we get there you're gonna tell me all about Egypt, then we're gonna read together and after that we're gonna spend some time together." Y/n plans out wiping Steven's tears with his thumb.

"Te-tell me that you *sniff* love me" Steven shakily tears still running down his face. "I-I love you Steven. Alright I love you okay. Now let's go." Y/n says before kissing the tears away off Steven. Y/n takes Steven's hands and guides him back to the car.

Steven smirks to himself. Steven didn't want to be fake towards Y/n, but he couldn't stand it anymore. Steven just wanted to keep Y/n to himself until death does them apart. So to get away from future competition Steven had to play and act like a weak sheep.

Steven felt bad for acting and faking but he had to! That guy was gonna steal Y/n from him and he couldn't just stand back and watch. That "friend" could be anything bad and Steven was just protecting his "Husband" from danger.

The only thing on his mind was about protecting Y/n from any threats to their relationship and the only solution is keeping Y/n close and away from others. Forever and ever. Steven made a plan to keep Y/n safe and he was going to do it tonight. A place somewhere safe for only two to stay away from others. Steven created the perfect place for Y/n and their future family.

"Y/n...What would you do without me." Steven says to himself looking at Y/n as they walk to the car.

The friend stands at their door watching with confusion as Y/n and his boyfriend go back into their car without a word or reason. The friend could see the crazy look in Steven's eyes and he knew it wasn't good.

"Y/n...Dear god what did you get yourself into." The friend mumbles out.

THE END

#steven grant x male reader #steven grant x reader #yandere steven grant #steven grant #yandere marvel x male reader #yandere marvel #yandere x male reader #x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #the bear club

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dovkss · 3 months

Text

hawks confronting reader for trying to hide their stockholm syndrome

word count: 957

warning: 18+; stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, kidnapping, manhandling, suggestive, bratty! reader, possessiveness language, threatening, yandere themes

a/n: a lil sum to make up for lost timeee! ;(

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. As he had planned, your feelings for him had began to shift.

No longer were you fighting him, spitting at him, yelling at him. No longer were you being disobedient, pushing his face away when he tried to kiss you.

No longer were you being an ungrateful whore.

You couldn't help but feel attached to him. It was hard not to. You haven't had any contact with an actual human besides him for the past few months. And, boy, were they long.

You got used to seeing his face. His gorgeous face. You were now comfortable enough to caress the fluffy red feathers he would leave in your space on purpose.

After being locked up in the basement during the day, you began to actually look forward to when he came back to you from patrolling or whatever hero work he had to do for the day.

When that door opened and he stepped through it, you found yourself smiling or letting out a sigh of relief.

You were aware of what was happening to you. You had read about it online some years ago. Stockholm Syndrome was what it was called... you think. People who are victims of abuse will start to empathize with their abusers to cope with the trauma they faced.

Well, he never hit you. Nor did he force you to do anything you didn't want to.

That's not abuse, is it? Surely not, you were perfectly fine and able to take care of yourself.

He kidnapped you, yeah. But... he was nice to you. He fed you, washed you, kept you warm, and bought you your favorite things!

That's not abuse.

Takami also took note of your change of heart. You never knew when your gaze on him lingered a little longer than normal. Your smile now wasn't sarcastic or half-assed.

At first he thought you were up to something. Maybe you were creating a ploy to blindside him in an attempt to escape.

Like he’d let that happen. Of course not.

But knew he had you wrapped around his finger when you let his lips come in context with your neck without putting up a fight. You were doing so well for him.

Only problem was you not admitting it. That annoyed the hell out of him.

You couldn’t let him know that you were coming around, then he would be getting his way. But if he was keeping you safe, what would be the harm in that?

No harm at all. Just a hurt ego. If he knew he was getting his way, you’d never be able to live it down. That cocky bastard.

"You cozy?" He asked you, his tone light. You nodded as you sat on the opposite end of the warm couch. It was movie night tonight, it was his turn to pick the movie.

You both sat in silence for the first half hour of the movie. You could see in the corner of your eye him looking at you. You bit your lip nervously, only trying to focus on the movie.

"Ya wanna sit next to me?" His next question was simple enough. You looked over at him. You knew you'd never forgive yourself for this. You scooted over a bit, your shoulder almost touching his.

He reached over and pulled your head into his neck and grabbed your legs to dangle over his. You huffed but said nothing.

"You startin' to like me yet?" He rested his head on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, not saying anything in response.

"Not even a little?" He chuckled. "This 'playing hard to get' act is getting old, Babe."

"It's not an act. You're just playing 'hard to get rid of'."

In a flash, you felt his demeanor change. Suddenly, he's on you before you even know it. He slams you back into the cushion, bringing his face to your cheeks, squishing them together. “I hope you know that you're never, ever getting rid of me. Nobody is fucking coming for you either, so I suggest you come to terms with that now."

You wriggle under his firm grip, trying to pry him off of you. You found it to be useless as he brought your face closer to his, forcing you to make eye contact with his yellow ones.

You couldn't lie to yourself. Being this close to him made you feel some things. You panicked.

"M' sorry, please, let me go..." you begged, closing your eyes. You hoped he listened, as your face was growing hot and beginning to cramp. You braced yourself for the nail marks that you would feel embedded in your skin.

He grinned. "Give me a kiss."

You leaned forward slightly, pecking his lips. He scoffed and shook you a bit, making you wince. "A real one, c'mon now."

You obeyed and attached your lips to his. He wasted no time slipping his tongue into your mouth. He wasn't just kissing you, he was letting you know that he was in charge.

For as long as you're here.

He pulled away with a chuckle before pushing your head down away from him further into the couch, then letting go. He returned to his spot while you lay there, trying to catch your breath.

You hadn't even noticed your thighs being clenched together. Your eyes watered slightly at the idea.

You were losing it. You were losing yourself, slowing turning into his. Your life now in his hands. Your freedom being stripped away from you.

“When I get outta here, m’ gonna kill you.” Your words were timid and empty.

The only thing left he had to change about you was that bratty mouth.

#dark content #yandere boku no hero academia #tw yandere #bnha hawks #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere keigo x reader #bnha x reader #yandere #mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #yandere blog #dark writing #yandere x reader #yandere x you

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

(青春) —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

There is before-Getou and after-Getou. In both spaces, Gojo exists.

wc — 3.1k

tags — the gradual but inexorable realization that your youth is lost to you, possessive Gojo, so hard to write Gojo and Getou together without making it a little ménage a trois, eldest daughter coded reader trying to pick up the pieces Getou left behind, missing your childhood innocence that can never return, blurry lines, unreliable adults, mild Getou x reader, title from The Belladonna of Sadness by Sally Wen Mao

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The road to Jujutsu High is littered with the fallen cherry blossoms. Gojo kicks at the large snow banks of pink flowers, letting them land in drifts marking your progression across campus. He complains incessantly of the pollen, the bees, and whatever else he finds it in his heart to complain about. Petals rain from the sky over your head.

Spring arrives with the new students on campus. You’re the first, because Gojo insisted on arriving early. He wants to assert his superiority over his classmates by knowing the layout of the land before they can, though you’re sure possessing the Six Eyes would’ve worked just as well in that capacity. Lady Gojo, as always, does not challenge her son. He leaves the day he says he will.

Before you go, she takes you aside. There is an almost saintly quality to her beauty, as if something about her is not of this world. Her white hair sweeps over her shoulder, tracing the delicate curve of her neck.

Her son is undeniably of her blood. They share the same pale coloring, as if a photograph had been bleached to a true negative. Only a woman like her could have given birth to a son like him.

When she places her hands over yours, it’s hard not to pull back, feeling unworthy. Even having known Lady Gojo for most of your life, it’s often difficult to shake the overwhelming feeling of respect you have for her. She asks you to look after him in her stead.

There’s only one answer you can give.

“Good girl,” she says, pressing her lips to your brow like a blessing. This close, you can smell the camellia oil in her silky hair. Loose strands brush against your face, and then she pulls back.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Another student is there when you arrive.

“What the fuck,” Gojo says. “It’s a week before the semester starts. Why is he here?”

“You’re here,” you pointedly remind him.

He blows you off. “That’s different.”

Getou Suguru got special permission from Principal Yaga to join Jujutsu High two weeks early. As the only student from a non-sorcerer family, Yaga wanted to help him get acclimated before class started. Gojo seethes in rage, especially when Getou tries to help you move your things into your new dorm in the other building.

“Hands off,” he slaps Getou’s hands away from your suitcase. “She’s mine.”

“You can’t own a person,” Getou says, mildly annoyed.

He’s trying to play nice, feeling out the intricacies of completely new faces in a new setting. You wish you could tell him he doesn’t need to bother. Gojo will always be Gojo, no matter where he is.

He’s only mildly more bearable the next day, as the final student arrives just on the cusp of being late.

“A reverse cursed technique user?” Gojo’s practically shivering with excitement. “Cool! I wanna do that!”

Yaga smacks his desk with his ruler for attention. “And you will, if you can manage to pay attention during class.”

You’re surprised you’re even using the classrooms at all. They might be useful for theory, but in truth, everyone knew Jujutsu was best learned through experience. It really wasn’t learned at all, but earned through being on the field.

Yaga doesn’t seem to think so.

“Boring,” Gojo interrupts halfway through his lecture. “I learned all of this already with my tutors when I was eight! When do we get to the good stuff?”

Getou scoffs. “Not all of us have tutors, asshole.”

“Yeah?” Gojo says. He pushes his sunglasses up so they rest on his head.

Yaga takes a quick survey of the classroom. You already know what he’s going to do before he does it.

“Getou, move to the seat next to you. And you,” he points at you. “Sit in his seat, please.”

“We don’t need-“ Getou starts.

“I don’t care,” he says. “Do it. Now.”

You’re almost impressed as you take your new seat. Part of dealing with Gojo is knowing when to pick your battles. It seems Yaga has already picked up on that.

“Hey,” Gojo says, grinning at you. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Shoko, who has been quiet up until now, makes a soft gagging noise from the other side of Getou. On the very first day of class, the relationships between the four of you have already been solidified.

Despite their rocky start, Getou and Gojo seek each other out like they’ve been magnetized to each other. They play terribly off each other, goading the other on.

“Bet you I can take out more cursed users-“

“Bet you I can take down the curse faster-“

Gojo has never had a challenge like him in all of his fifteen years of life. For all their bickering, they take to each other quickly. A little too quickly. They’re attached at the hip before long, which means Getou’s also attached to you.

“Psst,” Gojo hisses. His breath is fogging up the window you just cleaned. “Open up! Hurry!”

You check the clock. It’s past curfew, and the sun has long since set. His hair glows radiantly against the backdrop of the dark sky. Weak to him as always, you push the window open.

“What are you doing?”

He’s already clambering in without an invitation, knowing you won’t refuse him. The consequences of growing up together means you can speak a language that doesn’t need words, a poetic way of saying Gojo is used to being spoiled by you.

“What are you waiting for?” He throws over his shoulder, his leg straddling the windowsill and his torso halfway inside your room. For a second, you’re worried he’ll be stuck. He hit a growth spurt last year and hasn’t stopped since. “Are you coming or not?”

“You didn’t say we were going to her room,” Getou attempts to and fails at hiding the blush on his face. “We can’t be in a girl’s room!”

“Don’t be a prude,” Gojo shoots back.

Getou hesitates, looking at you. You extend your hand to pull him through. He takes it.

Gojo makes himself comfortable as always, ransacking the little box of snacks you keep above the mini fridge. Getou smacks his hands away, trying to discipline him. It’s no use. Gojo’s manners are something his mother despairs at.

Finally satisfied with his pick, Gojo sprawls out on the floor, every single inch taking up as much space as possible. With no room left for Getou, you pat the bed to offer him a seat next to you.

“Where’s Shoko?” You frown. “You invited her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojo waves you off. “I knew you’d be pissed if I didn’t. She said she doesn’t want to hang out. Probably asleep by now.”

He looks up at the two of you through his eyelashes, his eyes half shut. There’s something charmingly open about his expression right now, sweet and boyish. The lamplight casts dancing shadows across his face, making the moment feel ephemeral, though it’s just another night that Gojo has snuck into your room.

He has a way of making all time spent with him feel significant, seared into your memory like it’ll be taken out of its treasure chest and lovingly pored over later. Perhaps it will. He’s an important man - these moments may be like family heirlooms in the future, the good old days when grandma was best friends with the Legendary Gojo Satoru. Maybe your grandchildren will beg you for stories of him. You’ll tell them about how he was talented, brave, and above all, reckless.

He’s beholden to no authority, and beyond willing to prove it. It’s a thorn in the elders’ sides.

“The elders are pressuring Yaga to ask me to take a special grade mission,” he says.

Getou jolts. “That’s confidential.”

Gojo rolls his eyes at him. “Come on, everyone knew I was going to tell her. Do you want me to?”

The last part is directed at you. Carefully, you turn the question over in your head. Gojo is offering you the choice, letting you balance and discard lives. Right now, the elders only have one special grade, Tsukumo Yuki, and she’s fond of going rogue after missions. Maybe it’s just a special grade thing, to be a loose cannon. It would be helpful to have another special grade willing to step up, but-

“Tell him no. You’re just a first-year,” you say.

“I want to go. I’m good enough.”

“Please don’t.”

“Will you give me a reward if I don’t?”

Getou interrupts the beginning of your answer. “It’s fine, I’ll go with him. It’ll be okay if it’s the both of us.”

“You’re a first-year, too. Don’t go, Gojo. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll talk to Yaga for you.”

As if his name summons him, there’s a loud thump on the door.

“Hey!” Yaga has a bad habit of knocking so hard it startles you. “Are those men’s voices I hear? No boys in the girls’ dorms!”

You freeze. You hate lying because you’re horrible at it. Gojo mouths at you furiously, ‘Just lie! Make something up!’

“No,” you say, too shakily. It’s so obvious. “Just watching TV!”

“Hmph,” Yaga grumbles, but his footsteps fade away.

Years later, you’ll realize that Yaga could’ve checked the boys’ rooms if he was really suspicious and wanted to separate you three. Your heart squeezes, as it always does in the future, thinking of these quieter times. It was nice to be so young and untouchable.

Yaga’s visit kills all future conversation, and Gojo is yawning, anyway. You know you can convince him to listen to you, so you let it go. Getou wakes both of you up the next morning. It’s a particularly brutal day to practice - Tsukumo’s back, which means she wants to have a personal hand in training the “baby special grades,” as she calls them.

You’re waiting for Gojo to finish his private training session on the porch when Getou joins you. He’s drinking green tea out of a reusable bottle. In his other hand, he has a can of soda for you. It’s so cold it sweats condensation even in the barely there warmth of spring.

“Thanks,” you take it gratefully.

“Done already?”

“Waiting for Gojo.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him anyways?” He regrets his words immediately after he says it. “Is that rude? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be.”

You take another gulp of the drink so you can think about his question. It’s so cold your teeth hurt. “I promised his mother I would take care of him.”

“But you’re the same age as him. And not as- You’re-“

“Not as strong as he is,” you supply, without anger.

“I didn’t want to say it.”

“There are different types of strength,” you say, brushing off your clothes as you stand up. Both Gojo and Getou are growing like bean sprouts. The shoulder of his jacket stretches dangerously taut, one of the threads fraying. You reach out and snap it off for him.

“Besides, this is just how it’s always been. Gojo needs a little extra spoiling, and I’ve always been happy to provide it.”

“And if I need spoiling too?” He says, half-joking.

You reach up to pat his head, causing him to freeze. “Sure. I can spare you some.”

“What are you two doing?” Gojo’s voice is like a whip as he strides towards you.

You pull your hand back instantly and hide it behind your back. For some reason, you feel like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“There was something in my hair,” Getou says smoothly.

Gojo pulls him towards him by the cuffs of his sleeves. He pats Getou’s hair down himself, as if for confirmation. “Huh. Guess she got all of it. You guys hungry? I’m starved! Let’s get dinner.”

“Wait for Shoko,” you reprimand him. “She’s still in training.”

“But I’m so hungry!”

“It’s just 5 minutes. Come sit by me,” you say.

He whines and moans about it, but he does come to you, laying his head on your lap. The weight of him is soothing and familiar, the heat of him felt through the thin fabric of your skirt. You press a teasing finger to his cheek and feel the whistle of air as he snaps his teeth at you playfully.

“You too, Getou,” you say. “We can all wait together.”

“She’s taking so long,” Gojo complains. You pat him absentmindedly on the head to shush him.

“You’ll be grateful when she’s healing your dumb ass,” Getou tells him.

“Me?” Gojo scoffs. “As if I’m ever going to need healing.”

Your first year passes uneventfully, as slow and syrupy as the jam Gojo eats by the spoonful for breakfast. Gojo still sneaks over occasionally for sleepovers, bringing Getou or Shoko or both. Sometimes you all sneak out together to town.

You continue learning theory and refining your technique. Shoko lies about her age and receives a deferred medical school offer. Gojo and Getou are strong enough to go on missions already, taking everything up to grade 1.

Even during these halcyon days, as if you know what’s coming, your heart is filled with longing. You miss the moment even as you’re living in it, wishing that your first year at Jujutsu Tech would never end. It’s nice to be so peaceful. Though you’re all training to become sorcerers, it doesn’t feel real yet. You cling to each day as summer starts to approach, robbing you of what little is left of your first year.

Spring comes and goes, leaving you with nothing but wistfulness. You can’t help feeling that these are the days you will miss when you graduate, these moments you can never experience again.

It’s bittersweet, the joy of having something for the first time. If you could, you would give yourself temporary amnesia so you could meet every moment anew.

Instead, the uncompromising march of time remains indifferent to your silent prayers. The second day of your second year, Getou asks you to meet him behind the main campus.

“Let’s take a walk through the woods,” he says.

“That’s how good girls get murdered,” you joke, though you follow him anyway.

“You think I would hurt you?”

You gasp, tripping over a root you didn’t expect. He turns around and lunges for you just as you trip backwards, trying to catch you before you can fall. He grabs your shoulders right when you grin and reveal that you were just fine the whole time.

“No,” you say, only cheered on by his exasperation. “I don’t think you would.”

He makes an annoyed sound, and you realize for the first time exactly how close he is to you. He notices simultaneously. Suddenly the awareness that the two of you are just inches apart dawns on both of you. His breath hitches. His kiss tastes like the green tea he drinks to get rid of the aftertaste of curses.

You touch your fingertips to your lips wonderingly as he pulls back. His face is dark with an emotion you can’t identify, something that you don’t think you can call love. He shivers when you press those same fingertips to his lips, your touch burning him through.

You draw back instantly, aware you’ve crossed a line.

“Oh, Getou.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” For this boy from the villages, the strongest but still not Gojo, pity is unbearable. He doles it out to others like a benevolent saint. To receive it feels wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I know. It’s Gojo, isn’t it?”

“Not like that,” you try, though you know you’ll never be able to explain the complicated relationship between you and Gojo. Some day he’ll get married. Perhaps he’ll leave you behind, or perhaps you’ll have to explain to some poor girl why there’s an automatic third in her relationship. You just come with the territory, a package deal. 2-for-1 is always just a way to sell a sucker something they don’t want.

“I know,” Getou says. “Do you ever think of doing anything for yourself?”

That’s an interesting question. You thought about it all the time when you were younger and resentful of babysitting, but you’ve long since grown used to your role, like a tree pruned into the right shape.

“Not really.”

Getou’s words are said thoughtlessly, just the musings of a boy who wants to understand why. They take root in your heart and become something else. The leash slackens, little by little.

Spring of second-year is much like first-year. For all you worried, little has changed.

There’s only one major difference.

Gojo and Getou take their first special-grade mission.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You’re annoyed, and surprised by exactly how annoyed you really are. For everyone else’s bad temper with Gojo, you have the patience of a saint when it comes to him. It helps that he gives you more than he gives anyone else, too, except times like these.

He looks askance. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Gojo goes. You can’t stop him. You don’t have the right to when he’s more than capable of it. He’s the strongest, after all. Technically, he should’ve been doing field work long before. He’s the most valuable asset the sorcerers have.

Once you’ve uncaged him, Gojo rampages. He comes back within a day, predictably victorious, brutally so. This only solidifies his understanding of himself as the god of this cursed world. He can’t help but push himself even more, trying to find the seemingly limitless boundary of his power.

When he’s given the Star Plasma Vessel mission, he doesn’t turn it down. Getou follows him.

Everyone seems to be walking their own paths. As Gojo and Getou keep exploring the limits of their own strength on missions, Shoko spends her days in the morgue. Eventually, you too find something to pass your time.

Yaga recruits you as an assistant. Most days, this means paperwork and making tea, though occasionally it gives you glimpses into the bureaucracy of the Jujutsu world. Shoko thinks it’s boring, banning you from talking about it on your lunch dates. You don’t mind - you’d hate being idle more.

Though it’s normally unexciting in Yaga’s office, you notice the mood immediately when you walk in. Yaga’s leaning back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, almost like he’s trying to stop a nosebleed. He looks like he’s about to cry. You’ve never seen your principal like this, and it alarms you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Gojo says. “I fixed it.”

Turning around, you see his hair first. Gojo’s bone white hair, so like his mother’s, is matted with dark red blood. It drips into his eye and leaves rust colored stains across his cheek, the collar of his shirt, and his jacket. His eyes are manic.

You should’ve gone with them.

(夏) —

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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lupiningwolves · 2 years

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summer school pt. II | sirius black x reader

summary: after he ignored you, you confront sirius at a party

warnings: smut, sir kink, daddy kink, rough sex, degrading, praise, finger sucking, possessive behaviour, not proofread

part 1

your heart broke every time you opened the snap he sent you back. you told sirius everything that happened in your day, the exciting and rather boring things. and most of the time you got a pictures back where you could only see half of his face.

it went on like that for days, even weeks, after summer school ended. you had even asked him if he wanted to come over to yours - even if it had just been as friends. all you wanted was to see him after what you two had done.

that was until you had actually seen him, at a party with everyone from summer school. there he stood, in his stupid jeans and his stupid t-shirt with his stupid leather jacket. god, how wet you already got thinking about him.

you turned away from him to try and process everything at first before talking to him. „y/n“ that’s all it took for your legs to get weak. he gently grabbed your arm and made you turn around again to look at him. „thought it was you“, he said with a smirk.

„hey“, you mumbled.

„everything okay?“

„i don’t know, you tell me.“ you didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from. „we didn’t talk properly after-“ -you fucked me

he grinned when you were too shy to end the sentence. „c‘mon, i live nearby, we should talk.“

five minutes later you were pressed against the door of his apartment. „you ignored me“, you whispered. „you confused me. it hurt.“

„fuck, baby, you had no idea what you were doing to me. sending pictures of you at school, when you were working in that stupid office or after you came out of the shower. i wanted nothing more than to take you in the bathroom of you school and fuck you in front of the mirror. or bend you over the desk you were working on so good. but - fuck - the way i dreamt about fucking you in the shower.“

you released a gasp at his words, especially when you felt his breath tickle your neck and his hand grasp you ass. „sirius-“

„wrong. c‘mon, baby, we discussed this already, haven’t we? i’m in charge here“

you moaned as he kissed and sucked on your neck. „sir“

„that’s right, angel, gonna make you feel so good. gonna make it up to you, okay?“

you only nodded, already too dumb to think. next thing you know was you laying on his bed, naked, beneath him. you tucked at his shirt and seconds later it was laying on the floor next to your clothes.

„sir“, you whispered. „need you, now.“

„i know, baby, so needy. haven’t felt good since i left, huh? couldn’t make you feel so good the way i did?“ you shook your head. „gonna prep you.“

„noo“, you whined and began taking his trousers off. „need you now. wanna feel you in me.“

„sweetheart-“

„no“ and without a warning you turned both of you around so that you were straddling him, sinking down on his cock. a whimper escaped your lips at the stretch.

„fuck, baby, you feel that?“ he put his hand on the bulge in your stomach. „that’s me, baby.“

„daddy in my tummy“, you whispered and started rocking back and forth, moaning loudly at the feeling.

sirius groaned at the new name, but also at the feeling of you around him. „up and down now, angel.“

„i can’t-“

sirius‘ chuckle made you whine. „such a cockdrunk little slut, aren’t you.“

you fell forward and gripped his shoulders. „so good“, you mumbled.

„yours, sir, just yours.“

„that’s right, mine. and mine only“, he said before lifting you up and pounding roughly into you from beneath.

„yeah, that’s my girl“, sirius said when he felt you clenching around him. „missed you, sweetheart. my hand didn’t feel nearly as good as you.“

„cum“, you blabbered.

„already? go on then, cum for me, baby.“ with that you clenched around him with a loud moan. but that didn’t mean he stopped. oh no…

he pushed two fingers inside your mouth after turning you two back around and pounding into you even harder than before. „cum in me, daddy. make me yours.“ your words were muffled by his digits, but he still understood you.

„always been mine. since you first were in my room.“ he let out a loud groan. „fuck, gonna cum. mark you as mine.“ and with the innocent look you gave him he couldn’t help but release inside of you. „gonna clean you up and then i’m gonna fuck you in the shower. never gonna let you go again“

—

taglist: @princess-jules47 @regulusblackswhorecrux @sunarinsonigiri @pinkcloxds @pottahishotasf

#sirius black #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader smut #marauders #marauders smut #marauders x reader #marauders x reader smut #harry potter #harry potter smut

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spliffymae · 1 year

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shoulda, coulda, woulda, j. kirstein

synopsis: jean loved his job, he loved being a teacher. there was just something about his eighth grade class that brought him so much joy, he loved everything about his job, even then annoying, tedious tasks. he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. especially when one of his students’ mom is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

⚠️ afab!reader, cheating, swearing, smut, cocky!jean, teacher!jean, jean gets possessive, reader is in a loveless relationship.

kio’s notes - if y’all only knew the struggle i been going through to get this fic back🤦🏽‍♀️ anyways— i have this hc of the aot characters in like a school setting, and this is what i came up with for jean’s. also please don’t take any of this seriously, i’m writing this for shits and giggles bc i really do believe jean would have the audacity. MINORS DNI !!! 18+

now playing

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

ok so how i picture jean as a teacher is the type of teacher that at first glance, is expected to be a strict and cold teacher. one that didn’t really goof around with his class and focused on the rules. he was stern at times, yeah, but if you sat in on a lesson with jean, you would see it’s actually the exact opposite.

for one, he was pretty chill. his students were comfortable to talk to him about anything that was bothering them. he even spoke to them about things that would happen to him, and even try to turn it into a life lesson.

“so this man cut me off today while driving here to see y’all. now i wanna know, do i let that little thing make me upset for the rest of the day, or do i take a breath, shake it off and make the best of a good mornin’?”

((( sidenote: i also imagine him having a bit of a southern accent? nothing crazy but like a like twang y’know? country boy turned teacher typa vibe.)))

another thing he would do is block out a time of the day—fifteen to twenty minutes (usually at the end of the day or during free period) to talk to his students about what’s currently going on, whether it be in their lives or in the world. he wasn’t on social media like that, so aside from world news, he was in the dark, especially about pop culture.

“mr. k! are you team selena or hailey?” one of his students asked, getting jean to furrow his brows.

“selena as in gomez? who’s hailey? and why are they beefing?” and for the next fifteen minutes, jean watches as a number of his students go up to the white board and draw him a diagram, explains the celebrity web of drama.

jean was also a fitness enthusiast. he loved to exercise and get his body moving. he also encouraged it in his class, even incorporating it into his history lessons. he would set up a circuit of educational exercises, where his students would not only learn new things, but even get a little bit of some cardio in. for example, at the end of each week for black history month, jean would have ahis class split into teams and take the photos of black icons from one side of the class, and run to the other side to stick them by a description.

jean even loved the annoying aspects of teaching elementary, like yard duty. he would normally be with the primary grades due to his ability to keep up with their energy, but when he would be with the juniors and intermediates he loved when they’d ask him to play a game.

“mr. k! we need one more for five on five!” one of his students would yell, and jean would jog over and join the team.

and if he was on duty with his friends? oh best believe they’re joining.

“serayah, honey,” jean waved over a sixth grader from his friend, mikasa’s class. “tell ms. ackerman that mr. k wants her to sub in for him.”

but what jean loved more than anything about his job was parent-teacher meetings. why? because he would get to see one of his favorite students, and his favorite parent. you and your son dante.

dante was one of jean’s most athletic students. he was on the school’s basketball and track team, as well as playing for a rep league outside of school. he took a liking to jean rather quickly, babbling on to you about how cool his teacher was.

when it came time to finally meet him at the school’s welcome back barbecue, you were shocked, for lack of better words. jean had to be the most handsome teacher you ever laid eyes on. he was muscular, lean, standing at six feet and two inches. he wore a dark denim jacket with a plain black tee shirt underneath, black cargo pants and a pair of black and yellow jordan retro 12s. he had a single silver chain and two small, silver hoop earrings. he smiled with a natural smirk, his eyes crinkling and creating a look you couldn’t help but fawn over. his freckled cheeks reddening with every compliment he got from parents passing by.

when his eyes landed on you, it seemed as though time stood still. you were mesmerizing to him. dressed in some jeans and a striped dress shirt, accessorized with dior slides and a black handbag. your hair was tied into a puff, small, coils accent pieces pulled out randomly for a ‘lazy effect’.

when you and dante walked up to him, he had a big, warm smile on his face. “mr. kirstein, correct?” ypu extended your hand, to which jean accepted. it was a soft, and now that you were closer to him he smelt the subtle hint of lilac waft off you. you gave him a bright smile, glossed lips pulled back to reveal bright whites that along with cheery eyes, had him swooning.

for the first five minutes of seeing you, jean was elated. but when his eyes glanced down to look at your interlocked hands, and he saw that silver wedding band glimmer in the light on your left ring finger, he felt a dark cloud over his head.

“it’s uh, pleasure to meet you mrs. smith.” jean cleared his throat and smiled, swallowing back the slight disappointment.

you shook your head, “please, call me (y/n), and the pleasure is mine. dante speaks so highly of you. i had to come see the magic for myself.” you laughed, the compliment getting him to look down as he felt his cheeks burn.

“well, dante is a good kid. love hearing his takes when we do history, and his heavy opinion on math.” jean looked over to dante with a teasing smirk, one that the young man rolled his eyes playfully at.

“there’s no reasons why paul needs 40 watermelons, mr. k! we’re going through inflation right now, he bein’ selfish!” your son exclaimed, his comment getting both you and jean to laugh.

before you could dive in further and ask questions regarding the class’ curriculum, a hand on your lower back interrupted you. “there ya are, was looking all over this dump for you.” your husband, erwin, kissed the side of your head as he stood next to you. he was dressed in a black suit, with a long brown coat over him. he must’ve come from work.

“oh you showed up, funny.” you said, trying to keep a playful tone as to not indicate to jean there was a problem. unbeknownst to you though, jean was more of a body language analyzer than tone, so although you sounded somewhat happy at your husbands appearance, he could tell by how you stiffened at his touch that you weren’t feeling it.

“don’t be like that.” erwin spoke to you in a quick, hushed tone before looking to his son, whose mood also seemed to drop at his dads presence. “dante, how’s it going?”

“good, dad. this is my teacher, mr.kirstein.” dante pointed to jean, who was still not over how your cheery mood seemed to evaporate the second your husband walked in.

the blond man turned to jean, eyes flicking up and down him before a smirk found its way on his lips, “this the one you don’t shut up about, huh? i’m erwin smith, attorney at maria rose law firm.” he extended his hand to jean and of course, he shook it with a smile, despite cursing the man internally.

it was at that barbecue jean learned the dynamic of your marriage, and got to see it play out over the course of the year. erwin, as best as he seemed to try, was very disconnected with dante. he had not a clue what the boy liked to do or how he was doing in school. jean gathered this from the way erwin would go on his phone when he would talk about dante’s in-class progress or how he would come with you to dante’s games and meets, but never really cheer for the boy. not like how jean would.

he would either be looking down at his phone for most of the game, or watch with the most uninterested look on his face. and when jean brought it to your attention, you would always shrug it off.

“he’s just not a big basketball fan, s’all.” you would reassure jean, but he could tell from the way you bit down on your bottom lip and eyebrows softened after speaking that you didn’t even buy into your own excuse.

but it was okay. erwin’s silent spectating made jean’s cheers all the more louder. you and him acting a fool on the bleachers whenever dante made a good play. so much so that dante stopped informing his dad and started telling jean about his upcoming games—even asking him to help him practice on a dunk at lunch recess. there was even one occasion you had to swing jean a text, asking him if he drive dante to practice because erwin got held up at work (even though he told you he’d take him).

but yeah. jean loved teaching. because through his job he met you and the two of you had grown incredibly close, bordering on good friends. it wasn’t the most ethical thing in the world, befriending a students mom, but jean knew coworkers who have done worse so he wasn’t phased.

you had noticed how much better dante’s energy had gotten since jean’s arrival. he looked forward to not only games but school now, and was even warming up more to his teammates and classmates. before he was very reserved, only speaking when spoken to. but jean brought something out of him. when he came, he would go stand by the players and help the teams coach. sometimes he’d even takeover. he would dub dante team leader, encouraging him to speak up more. after the first time jean coached the team, dante begged him to be his mentor.

“pleaseee mr. k! you really the only solid guy i got to look up to. you like what i like and you can ball. c’mon do it as a form of reparations! ” dante begged him one day after school, ambushing jean while he was trying to pack up his things and head home.

jean wanted to agree instantly, but knew he needed to speak to you about it. he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, not with you or dante—especially you, seeing as how you were a married woman. he brought it up to you the next time he saw you, at dante’s next game, while you two sat on the bleachers as dante’s team warmed up.

“d said he wants me to be his mentor. wanted to ask you if it’s okay to accept. i wouldn’t wanna step on his father’s toes or anything of the sort.. he also told me to do it for reparations?”

on the outside, jean was expressing consideration and empathy. but on the inside, he was country steppin’ on erwin’s toes, letting an evil laugh out in his head at the thought of taking erwin’s place. not just in dante’s life, but yours too.

you let out a loud cackle at the last part, “no he didn’t! oh my gosh, i’m so sorry bout his blunt ass. but i doubt erwin would look up from his phone long enough to care, jean. it’s cool with me if you want to accept. d’s changed a lot since you’ve been around, it’s been nice to see.”

you were in awe at your son’s transformation, to say the least. it was the spring of the second term, and dante had improved so much in the last couple months. his writing, confidence, and athletic ability had improved, but so had his mindset. he never took school seriously, or even cared about his marks. erwin told you it was just his teenage phase and to let him be, but you couldn’t. and thankfully for you, jean couldn’t either. he was more hands on than erwin, who was too focused on clients to worry about you two.

but oh, erwin should’ve worried.

he should’ve started to worry when you started coming home later. you used to be home by seven to make dinner for him when he would come home, tired from judges and verdicts. but now you’d be home at nine or nine thirty, you and dante well-fed while erwin munches on dinner he bought or leftovers he threw together once he realized you weren’t coming home in time.

he should’ve been curious when you were getting calls from jean outside of the appropriate hours. erwin would catch you on the phone at ten at night or sometimes even midnight. he would question you, but you would say it was either an “urgent dante matter” or that you were on the phone with one of your girlfriends and urge him to leave you alone.

but what really should have raised your husband’s suspicions was when you would go out with jean without dante. if only he didn’t shrug off dante when he said you finished work and went with jean to meet up with other members of the team’s parents. if only he wondered why the parents would be getting together at nine o’clock on a wednesday night.

if he had, maybe you wouldn’t have been at a bar late at night, confiding in jean about your marriage as you throw your legs over his lap, pink crocs practically neon in the light.

if erwin had worried, you and jean wouldn’t be tipsy and dancing together, with him holding you close as you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music, grinding against his hardening dick with his thumb in the loop of your jeans as he tapped the beat of the music against your hip.

if erwin had called you like he thought to, he would’ve pulled your attention from jean, who was whispering sweet words into your ear, going on about how beautiful you are, and how he’s been dying to take care of you. his hand held your own, his warmth making your body melt.

maybe if erwin had worried about the amount of time you were spending with jean, he could’ve prevented that night. and stopped you from beginning what would be the end of your sanctified marriage.

maybe you wouldn’t be a where you were right now, how many days later, lying on your side with jean behind you, laying waste to your plump lips with kisses and nips. he held you close to him, chest pressed against your back and arms around you. he was grinding himself against you, his tip hitting your clit.

“jean,” you whined, a breathless sigh leaving your lips after. he had already fucked you to five orgasms throughout the day—since eight in the morning, the time you arrived at his house (you had lied and said you were going to work). but he was looking to make it six—his lucky number. honestly, your body really shouldn’t endure anymore of jean, but he was fucking you too good for you to focus on soreness and/or tell him to stop.

he tapped his dick against your clit, the puffy nub tingling from the sensation. “fuck, baby put it in.” you whined. your hand slid down to try and push his head down to go in between your folds. “please, m’so ready.” you sniffled, feeling the familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

“my baby so needy, hm? what’s wrong? that shitty husband of yours ain’t fuckin’ right?” jean spoke next to your ear, his breath fanning over your cheek. he continued to glide himself up and down your folds, collecting your slick as lube and ignoring your whining and begging.

“not like you, jean—shit!” you were struggling to pull yourself together. you were overstimulated, you were exhausted, but your body craved him. it had been so long since you were worshipped like this, since your heart had felt so full from jean’s endearing words. not to mention phat ma was loving the attention.

jean chuckled, “you damn right, sweetheart. this right here is mine, understand? don’t wanna see no other man touching you, speaking to you—looking at you, even! i’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.” he snarled.

he didn’t wait for a response from you. he just slowly pushed himself inside, listening to the breath that hitched in your throat. that really was all the response he needed. “jean…” you grabbed onto the sheets to release any form of tension. despite being full of jean all day, you were still not use to his motion. his size was one thing; he was tall with a curve at the head. he he was more on the thicker side, with light brown hairs trimmed neatly around his area. he was about the same size as erwin, but it was his strokes that hit you differently. they were far more powerful than your husbands. they were more determined, focused—not just on his own orgasm but yours as well.

jean smirked, “not like me, yeah. that asshole can’t begin to reach the places i can! m’gonna fuck some sense into you to leave that blond fuck.” he pressed his free hand against your stomach, squeezing on your waist. “gonna give my pretty girl the family she always wanted. me, you, d, and one of our own. how’s that’s sound, sweetheart?” jean kissed the back of your ear with his promise.

you were dying! here this man was, fucking you into an oblivion, loving your body in a way your husband hasn’t in so long. how were you supposed to say no? he was promising you what erwin no longer gave you, what he forgot he did on your wedding day.

it was wrong for you to be here with him. you were breaking every possible vow and eternal promise you made to erwin on the day of your wedding. but in the moment, you didn’t care. jean was fucking you too good to feel guilty for your infidelity. his dick was hitting a spot you had forgotten existed, wiping your memory of erwin and the past nights of passion you two shared.

“think of our baby, mama. how beautiful they’ll look with your eyes, your smile, your fuckin’ kindness—” jean was lolling at the thought. the idea of getting you swollen with his baby. pregnant you would be dependent on him for sure, needing him to ease your sore body or help you with your hormonal mood swings. he would be your go-to. he could see the future you two could have, it was right there. and by god was he going to attain it one way or another.

“please, make me a mommy, jean please. wanna be your kids’ mommy.” you begged him, and he could’ve cum alone at that. you looked back at him, lips poked out in a pout and eyes glossed over. there wasn’t a thought behind them, nothing in that pretty little head of yours except how he was making you feel.

yeahhhh, erwin should have been worried. when he saw you enter your shared bedroom at nearly midnight, walking straight to the bathroom with what appeared to be a faint limp, he shouldve gotten up to ask you what happened….but he couldn’t bring himself to.

he should’ve pushed jean for answers when he ran into him one day at home depot, and after threatening him over your guys’ overly friendly relationship, listened to jean respond with:

“you know what i tell my students about letters, mr. smith?…that sometimes they can be silent. like the word ‘rhythm’ for example—the first ‘h’ is silent. and i’m gonna tell you that the word ‘your’ has a silent y.”

erwin blinked, “what?”

jean nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face, “yup. at least in your case it does. so your wife, is our wife. that body you don’t value” jean rolled his neck in irritation, “is ultimately hers, but for the sake of this argument, is ours—well more so mine since i heard your ass isn’t hittin�� spots i can. so keep that in mind the next time you think about steppin’ to me, alright? you have a good night now, mr. smith.” he flashed erwin a wink before turning away, leaving the man stunned in the middle of the store.

perhaps it was now too late for erwin to worry.

#🌞🍃spliffymae #ﾟ aot╤╤｡ 𖠋 #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #attack on titan #angst #teacher!jean #x black reader #black y/n #Spotify #cheating #erwin x reader #erwin smith

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quodekash · 6 months

Text

FINAL PART OF THE EPISODE, LETS GOOOO

I LOVE HIM 😭

this entire situation is very not good

(I forgot to write down my thoughts lmao)

oh so he's gonna suffocate him? that makes sense actually, I thought he was gonna shoot him

anyway time for the perfectly timed rescue from kangsailom

HELL YEAH SAILOM

BRO JUST PUNCHED A GROWN MAN, IM PROUD OF HIM

no come on man

why

why can't we all just be happy

why the hell did kang throw himself between the gun and the guy

(did you just throw your hand BETWEEN the hammer and the phone?)

oh okay so its just an arm wound

he'll be fine, right?

just a lil graze wound?

also because of the light it looks like theres a guy in the blood lmao

Tony stark-ass man

gUYS

I get that you wanna be all noble and stuff but can we chill a little bit

maybe duck down instead? step to the left? run out the door and grab some authorities so that you're not facing against this deranged guy alone? just some food for thought

YES

HELL YES

oh wait no

oh no now he's gonna go to jail for gun possession

crap

OH WAIT BUT SAIFAH'S ALSO IN JAIL

THEY CAN BE JAIL BOYFRIENDS

we've got bathroom boyfriends (soundwin/guynawa), rooftop boyfriends (patpran and arguably guynawa too), pool boyfriends (tinngun) and now we can have jail boyfriends!

the four elements. bathroom, rooftop, jail, pool.

long ago the four nations lived together in harmony. then, everything changed when the jail nation attacked. only the avatar, master of all four boyfriends, could stop them. but when the world needed him most, he vanished.

a hundred years passed and my brother and I discovered the new avatar, a poolbender named palm. and although his poolbending skills are great, he has a lot to learn before he's ready to save anyone. but I believe palm can save the world!

(I can't quite remember but I'm pretty sure palmnueng managed all four of those at some point. they definitely got beat up in a bathroom at some point or something like that, there was that pool scene from the very start of the series, they're kind of technically on the run from the police and stuff like the entire time which is close enough to jail, and they end up on the roof of that one building quite a few times. so yeah, I guess palmnueng are the ultimate boyfriends)

OH CRAP THATS RIGHT I WAS WATCHING THE EPISODE

obviously like, empathy, this completely sucks and they're absolutely gonna convict name because it'll be in some record somewhere that he worked for whatshisface, so theyll decide that name was either trying to take down his boss so he could have the power, or that he was still working for his boss but mis-aimed and was actually trying to shoot kang and sailom

but also... jail boyfriends

thats it? that's freaking it?

okay then bro, jeez

that was truly something

OHMYOHMYOHMYOHMYOHMY

GUI34ERIHSGDJOIPE4JRPIOSJGHJO4B3EHIRSDGHIRBEVHDFGHVE4RD

GO48ERIDHGJIVOUERUODGOHVE0IROUHSD0UGHOUIVO0ERHOUD0UHOUG0UVHOGEWHR80DSUHGUOV0U9EHRU-SHDG9U-VHE9U-RHIDS0Y9G9Y-UVWEHPIS-9UDGHP-UV9PEWUS9DPH-GUVPH 9-UEHSD9JGIHPVJ9EIHR9SDIG90JVIE

IM NOT BEING DELUSIONAL IT ACTUALLY IS COMING

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND IT'S INITIATED BY GUY????

AAAAA THIS IS AMAZING

I so hope they kiss twice there, that would be awesome, then I could put the patpran rooftop kiss soundtrack behind it like I did with soundwin

GUIERJDKFBGNOVIERLNDGOVJD NEXT WEEK IS THE FINAL EPISODE WHICH WILL BE EMOTIONAL AND ITLL ALSO BE A GRADUATION EPISODE WHICH WILL BE EVEN MORE EMOTIONAL, B U T GUYNAWA ARE FINALLY GONNA KISS SO THE PAIN WILL BE WORTH IT HOLY FRICK

I HAVE TO WAIT A WEEK NOW???? A WHOLE-ASS WEEK???? GEORJDSKGB HOW

#quodekash disregards sleep because of dangerous romance #dangerous romance #dangerous romance series #dangerous romance the series #guynawa #nawaguy #kangsailom #kanghansailom #marcwin #marcpawin #marc pahun #win pawin #pawin kulkaranyawich #perthchimon #chimon wachirawit #perth tanapon #HEEEEEEEELP

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mrsnancywheeler · 2 months

Note

Also I’d love to see how you’d picture Eddie telling Billy he loves you in front of the whole band and their reactions. Cause I’ve got some ideas 😭

okay so I imagine it happening after this blurb took place, so like you've been gone for a while. and billy's at rehearsal a couple weeks later knowing damn well that you haven't picked up the phone, weren't at the house when he came by, and now he's back at rehearsal and everyone's confused on how you're not back yet. well I mean there's a sentiment of she finally had enough of his shit.

"what, she not agree to come back to you? finally done with you?" daisy's asking, knowing full well that you've been staying at her place.

billy is very annoyed, but smiles, "she's just out right now, I'll stop by later tonight, she'll be back"

and the next day, she's still not there, and billy is snappier because he's nervous. either something really bad happened to you or you meant what you said, you're actually done with him, and he's not ready to give you up.

eddie is seething because not only has billy chased you off, but you're missing, you haven't answered his calls either. so he's snapping

"maybe if you treated her well, she wouldn't be m.i.a."

"what the fuck do you know about how to treat a girl, roundtree."

"a lot more then you do."

"really? because she's always coming back to me, she may have fucked you, but she's always choosing me."

"that's because you fucking infest everything man, at least I love her."

there's a silence, warren mumbles a small, "well shit"

karen's offering a, "maybe we should take a break"

and then billy is laughing and everyone is on edge because, what the fuck, "I'm sorry, you wanna repeat that for the class? really pathetic eddie, you think you love her? you don't even exist to her, it's always been me and it'll always fucking be me"

"well evidently, it's now always you"

"shut the hell up, roundtree." the way he says it is chilling, puts everybody on edge, "I'm only gonna say this once. she's never gonna love you the way she loves me, I don't care if you think you're the end all be all, that you love her to death, I love her more. don't you dare even think otherwise. get your fucking nose out my business and stay the hell away from my girl."

"can't stay away from her when nobody knows where the hell she is because of you, billy. if you love her so much she wouldn't have run away, you're just possessive"

and graham's standing closer to billy, ready to pull him back if he even tries to go in, and billy does try and graham's instantly grabbing his arm. "you don't know anything about it." and now karen is insisting they split everyone up to cool off. so they are and eddie's fucking sick because basically everyone except daisy is telling him that it wasn't cool to pull. and he can't understand how nobody sees that he would in fact treat you better, but they do understand, but tensions are already high and this just makes it worse.

finally they rejoin, ready to tensely rehearse when billy, who won't tell anyone he was crying, informs them that, "if she's not back tonight then I'm going to the station." last he saw you, he'd literally had to force you to call a taxi, so now he's more worried. that you're done and in danger and he can't help you. "end of fucking story, let's just rehearse"

"oh my god, billy, you're so damn dramatic. I've heard from her, she's fine."

and well yeah this is kind of a cliffhanger because billy does in fact force it out of daisy eventually

#wanda 💋#billy dunne x reader angst #billy dunne angst #billy dunne #billy dunne x reader #djats x reader #eddie roundtree #nomorespaghetti

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alittlextrathatway · 5 months

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"And if I'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love."

Molly's

“Baby!”

Matt turns away from Severide, mid-conversation, to find Sylvie squeezing in next to him. Without another word or even a second look, he knows she’s drunk. They’re still attempting to keep their relationship under wraps in the hopes of avoiding the 51 fishbowl as long as possible. Sober Sylvie wouldn’t be so blatant.

“Baby?” Severide asks with a smirk.

Matt reins in a goofy grin. The term of endearment showed up about a week ago and he fucking loves it. After all the angst they went through to end up together, the implied intimacy still knocks him on his ass in the best way.

“Brett,” Matt says, ignoring Severide and pointedly lifting a brow at Sylvie.

“Oh! Right!” She exclaims. She rolls her lips and holds a finger over them, soundlessly shushing herself. “I meant baby like ‘yeah, baby!’ You know, Austin Powers style.”

Kelly’s smirk doesn’t budge. He chuckles and gives Matt a disbelieving glance. “Austin Powers. You serious?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “You know, the Mike Myers movie?”

“I’m familiar.”

“Oh, good. Ba—Casey,” she begins, correcting herself. Yeah, Severide definitely knows about them now. “I think I’m hammered.”

“Possibly, yeah,” he agrees with a mirthful grin.

“You wanna know how I know?”

“Is it the Austin Powers references?” Severide asks dryly.

“Hush you,” Sylvie says, playfully glaring at him.

“How do you know?” Matt asks, playing along with whatever game Sylvie thinks she’s playing.

She leans fully into him, resting her weight into his side and forcing him to support her with an arm around her waist. Her lips hover close to his ear and she attempts to whisper, but it comes out at her normal volume. Which is only a shade softer than her voice when she’s drunk. Regardless, her breath on his neck has a shameful effect on him. Has he ever wanted a person this badly in his life? He doesn’t think so.

“Because I wanna make out with you right now and let everyone see. Especially that girl checking you out at the end of the bar. If she keeps staring I’m going to have no choice but to ravage you right here, on this bar. It’s pissing me off.”

Shit. Well, that’s officially being added to his rotating catalogue of Sylvie Brett fantasies he’s had for the last few years. Also, where is this possessive streak coming from? It’s hot as hell.

“But I know we’re trying to keep us to ourselves so the only reason I wanna do that has to be the alcohol, right? I’m drunk in love — no, drunk and in love.”

“And that’s one mystery solved,” Severide quips, with a chuckle. “Now I know where you’ve been every night the last two weeks.”

“Hush, you,” he says, intentionally mimicking Sylvie with a grin he can’t hide and a shake of his head. He clears his throat and refocuses on Sylvie. “Maybe I should get you home, huh?”

“Good idea,” she concurs. “That way I can ravage you in private and we won’t blow our cover.”

Jesus, she’s drunk. There will be no ravaging. But he’s gonna have a hell of a time resisting her.

“Godspeed, Casey,” Severide says with a mock salute as Sylvie loops her arm through his and drags him away.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re an ass?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Only every day.”

His best friend is no help at all.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #chicago fire #dopemixtape #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

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I know you've been getting a lot of male reader requests and I'm so sorry to add on to it-

Could I request a fic where Jason is bullying reader about being "Eddie's boy" or something like that and Eddie gets protective and possessive?

Maybe some smut with rough but loving Eddie? Eddie's absolutely wrecking the reader but still being the sweetheart that he is

Hi! I'll be happy to do my best.

I'm building off a continuation of this blurb, "Teach Me How to Love You" and combining it with another request:

Can you do an Eddie x Male Reader smut where the reader teases Eddie all day in school which makes him really horny. Then as soon as school ends Eddie quickly drags the reader to his trailer and things just go from there. (Sub/bottom reader btw). thank you!

The goal is to try and keep myself from burnout and honor the requests that come in at the same time. Thanks for understanding. Reader is 18.

Eddie Munson x Male Reader.

CW: 18+ Content (Smut--Handjobs and blowjobs specifically)

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

____________________

Perhaps it was also naive to think that wearing your tightest jeans was just a coincidence on the day that you and Jason had to present your scene. The entire time, while glancing between your piece of paper and the classroom, you stole glances to Eddie. When you two caught gazes, you'd smile and Eddie would send you a wink. But then his eyes would drop down to the front of your jeans and when you turned to the side, he'd tilt his head just a little to catch a side view of your ass.

At the end, after the class finishes their clapping, you lean a bit of your chair to Eddie's seat, sliding a note onto the corner of his desk. Ms. Barlowe is much too distracted by her praise to notice the pass.

You are being so obvious. Perhaps I should get you a bucket.

Eddie scoffs when he reads it, flipping you bird. You laugh, turning back into your seat to face the front as the next pair goes up to the front to talk about the scene they translated and perform it. But the entire time you're staring at pairs, you can feel Eddie's stare boring in the side of your head.

"My place?" Eddie asks at the end of the day, fingers tracing over your palm.

"I have to get my mom from work. I've got the only working car right now."

Eddie nods, understanding the necessity of your part. "Just call when you get back home, yeah? Wanna make sure you're safe."

"Absolutely." You kiss his cheek, aware of the setting though the parking lot is full, most people are too focused on themselves to quite notice. You don't want to push it though.

Eddie opens your car door and closes it once you're situated inside. You roll down the window, through which Eddie leans in. "Still coming to the show tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't dream of missing it. Not with my man performing."

Eddie grins, head lolling gently to the side. "Oh, say that again."

"In your dreams, Munson. But seriously, I gotta go."

"Yeah, yeah, drive safe," he states, stepping away from the car and letting you back out of the spot. Eddie watches until your headlights are just ghosts of themselves before he climbs into the van and starts towards Gareth for band practice. He'd offered his plan as interim and for post practice originally, hoping to get more than just a kiss on the cheek. And if Eddie had anything to do with it, he would.

You seem to make it your life's mission to find every possible piece of distracting clothing and to wear it for Eddie the entire week. When it's not the jeans, it's the tight muscle tee that you wear, Corroded Coffin's logo etched into the front of it with fabric paint, or the button up shirt that most definitely should've been button up more to hide away your chest, but none of the teachers stopped you, or the cologne that isn't one Eddie's noticed you wearing before but smells absolutely fucking delicious. When it's none of that, it's the rings you unearth from where in your closet. Rings were Eddie's thing. And that he didn't want to sharing things, but he takes notes of the way you purposefully talk with your hands more with the rings, like you want to bring attention to them.

And the entire week, because your mom's car is still down, Eddie can't have you. He can't sit you on his lap, can't tug and pull you to a release in his fist like he wants and while it's literally had him rubbing one out nearly every night in the shower, Eddie can be a patient man when he wants to be.

Because Friday night you are all his. Your mother's car is fixed and returned Thursday evening and though Eddie has Dungeons and Dragons to head, there's nothing else that can get in the way.

That is until Jason's pestering comes to a head. He'd been on your ass since you two got assigned as partners and managed to get cordial enough to actually ace the project. However, the days post the presentation, he'd found every reason to corner you.

Today, a rather dry and crisp morning, Jason finds you leaning against the hood of your car, arms folded over your chest as you wait for Eddie. "Oh, are you missing your master? Sitting here like a lost fucking puppet." A slur follows it and you really and truly only want to turn away from him.

He'd gone from bumping you in the hallways, to openly mocking you when you weren't with Eddie. The less you gave in, the harder he tried to get a reaction. Today wouldn't be any different for you.

"You deaf? You hear me talking to you?" Jason hollers. Spit flies off the end of his lip.

You say nothing, staring at him and the crew that's assembled. It would be four against one and if you managed to get a good hit on two of them, the other two would be on your ass in a heartbeat. You're no fool, even if you can feel the tick of your own jaw.

"I'm talking to you," Jason huffs. "Ain't anybody ever tell you it's rude not to talk when someone's talking to you."

"You're yelling. You're not talking."

"You're a fucking freak who's fucking a freak and it's vile," he spits.

"Did Chrissy not put out? Or is it your time of the month?" you return. You hate to bring her into this--Chrissy's always been nice to you. But you know it's going to crawl under Jason's skin and eat him alive. The two of them had been on the rocks. Everyone could see it.

And like a match only needs gasoline Jason rushes you, hands tightening around the collar of your t-shirt. "The fuck did you say to me?"

"I don't think I need to repeat myself," you laugh.

"Hey!"

The call interrupts Jason's wild gaze and when he looks over, he spots Eddie rushing over. Eddie shoves past Patrick, who truly is the meeker of the group. How Sinclair could ever want to get in with the likes of them is beyond Eddie and though it pissed him off, Sinclair and yet to miss a campaign session so Eddie would let it slide until it became a problem. And Sinclair's not a problem, not someone Eddie thinks could be easily poison but Jason was a toxic cloud and strong enough to take almost anyone under.

Jason's grip loosen around your shirt and you swat at his hands. He steps away as Eddie steps between your body and his. "What kind of problem do we have here?" Eddie asks.

Jason grins. "Looks like we've got a freak problem right now. What do you say boys?"

You push up from the hood of the car. It's four against two, still terrible odds, but Eddie's scrappy, you've seen it. And so are you. These are odds you are willing to take and for a fleeting moment, you think the heavens you wore rings today.

You don't know who threw the first punch. It could've been Josh, maybe it was Chance. All you know is that when the gym teachers get involved to break up the fight, your lip may be busted but Josh's eye has seen better day. You're pretty sure Chance as a broken nose. Jason face seems mostly untouched as if he used the other three to shield himself from most of the damage and Patrick's eye and lip are swollen.

You let Mr. Jenkins haul you away, arms going up in defense before you look to find Eddie, who's not even looking at Mr. Polinsky but looking at you. The brawl lands you and Eddie a week of in-school suspension. Two brave witness came to attest that Jason, Chance, Patrick, and Josh instigated the fight but you know the precious Hawkin's basketball team will only get a slap on the wrist in the end.

As you and Eddie leave the principal's office, you notice how thick the silence is between the two of you. You hadn't spoken a word to each other when Eddie came up to intervene and you couldn't really say much as you took fist to your faces and the occasional foot to your rib.

"A beautiful way to start the day, huh?" you tease, nudging at his elbow with your own.

"How long has Jason been antagonizing you?" Eddie ask instead, pulling you of the direction of the nurses office where the two of you were sent with directions to go immediately to the ISS room.

You shrug. "I wouldn't call it antagonizing as much as I would call Jason pathetic."

"He is pathetic. I hate that Sinclair's going to the dark side, but you were severely outnumbered there. How long as he been on your case?"

"A couple of days."

Eddie stares at you, big eyes pleading as you can see the bruises blossoming his face.

"A week," you sigh, casting your gaze down to the ground. "Ever since we presented in English, he's been up my ass."

Your heart drops when you catch sight of the frown on Eddie's face. He speaks before you can ask about it. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't like he'd threaten to jump me until today," you defend.

"No, but, like, why didn't you tell me when it first started happening? I could've helped."

You laugh. "You helped today."

"I'm being serious." It leaves Eddie's throat in almost a growl and he's fingers wrap around your chin tip of his thumb gingerly grazing where your lip split.

You wince just a little at the touch. "There were so many other things I had to focus on. I just--I didn't think it was a big deal."

"And now you're handsome little face is bruised to all hell," Eddie sighs. He gets that other things were higher priority for you but damn it hurts worse to see you injured.

"I'm tough," you laugh.

"You are. You've always been, but goddamn, I don't want to have to be."

You watch his face, eyes flickering over the injuries you've noticeably sustained. "Don't look at me like that," you sigh. His eyes ooze with regret and a little bit of sadness. He doesn't look at you like you're fragile, but he he does look at you like the whole world might reside in the expanse of your being. "My heart won't be able to take it," you tease.

Eddie grins, it's short lived, his face no doubt sore too. "C'mon," he states gingerly, hands interlacing with yours and pulling you in the direction of the front doors.

"We have nurse passes and then ISS."

"The school can kiss my ass. No doubt she's not done patching up the airhead jocks."

You continue to trail behind Eddie, glancing every couple of seconds to see if the doors will open again. "They're going to go to the ISS room and we're not going to be there."

"I'll call up to the nurse's office. She'll get our work."

"Don't tell me you used the Munson boyish charm on Mrs. Yeates. Poor sweet Yeates subjected to your wilds is unfair. Her late husband's been dead longer than we've been alive."

Eddie snorts at your taunts. "She's one of the few people left at this school that gives a shit about me. She scratches my back, I scratch hers."

"That--but not like that that, you know?"

"Mrs. Yeates very occasionally buys, most of the time I help her out with stuff around the office or her house."

"The school nurse?" you whisper, finding your keys in your pocket. You're thankful now that they didn't fall out or get trashed in the fight. "Buys? From you?"

"She tips well too," Eddie laughs. "Meet me at my place. You can still see, right?"

You nod. "Yeah, but I should be asking you that?"

"If you see Hopper just floor it. The man loves a good speed chase."

You're not shocked that Eddie would know that. So you leave it be and settle yourself in the driver seat before following Eddie out of the parking school lot.

At his trailer, Eddie hoists you up onto the counter. And it's less he does it all himself, you help, but when he pats the side of the sink, hands running under the water, you slip up onto it and his hands hover to make sure you don't fall.

He's gentle as he dabs off the dried blood. His warning that the cleanser is going to sting comes from softly in his chest and you grip the edge of the counter to keep from jerking away too much at the sting. It's soothed by Eddie's hand along your thigh. "You did good," he praises, flipping through the content of the first aid kit.

He fishes out the ointment, finding q-tips to apply it. The cut on your cheek is cleansed and bandaged too before Eddie works on himself in his reflection. All the while you sit and watch. His eye doesn't look nearly as bad as Josh's but it still doesn't look great. You slip down as Eddie moves to get his cuts bandaged up to find the frozen peas you know are still probably haunting the freezer for these exact purposes. Your knuckles are in great shape, but they'll be okay.

You return to the bathroom to hand the bag over to Eddie. "For your eye," you tell him.

Eddie laughs. "I can't exactly suck you off and hold a bag of peas to my face at the same time."

The brashness catches you off guard, your mouth hanging open like a fish for a moment. "What-what are you talking about?"

Eddie hooks a finger into the collar of your shirt bringing your chest firmly against his. "You have been a goddamn tease this entire week. New cologne."

"It's actually old. I only wear it fancy occasions." That isn't a lie, but it's not fully true either.

"Tight jeans."

"I-I hadn't done laundry yet." Absolutely that one is a lie, but those jeans are usually reserved for the bottom of the barrel for that specific reason. It does help that you had a feeling the outline of your bulge would set Eddie off.

"A button up that wasn't even worthy of the title of shirt considering how many buttons you had undone."

"It gets hot in the school," you defend. And that is true. Once the heat is turned on in the school, it is on and it is boiling hot.

"Rings," Eddie continues to list off.

"Okay, that was on purpose." You'll concede that point but not the others as you enjoy the way Eddie walks you out of the bathroom, pausing to get the peas back into the freezer and then continuing back to his room.

"And that goddamn tight muscle t-shirt Tuesday night."

"The bar gets stuffy, Eds." Another piece of the truth tainted in a tiny bit of a lie. You wouldn't be oblivious to the fact that the muscle tee did show off your biceps and you would, and did, use that to your advantage.

Eddie brings you, not by dragging but by stalking so you walk backwards throughout the trailer to his bedroom, kicking the door close with his foot. "Over my dead body," Eddie laughs. He closes in, like he wants to kiss you but he knows it's going to cause too much pain.

"On the bed. Now."

You debate only for a moment what you're going to do but then turn and walk to the edge of his bed before you sit. The last thing you're going to do is deny him or yourself the pleasure of this experience. Though you weren't sure how far it would or could go given your injuries, you'd take the risk of pushing the envelope.

Eddie crouches down into your space, nose gently bumping over yours. "You had and go get punched, which means in order to spare your pain I can't kiss you properly."

"I didn't ask for it," you retort, intent on keeping the story line straight. Jason had started it but you'd finish it.

"I know. I just need to know though. What will you ask for?" The question is paired with Eddie's hands tugging your shirt up and out of your tucked in jeans.

"You." It's one word that falls from your chest in a whisper but it carries with it everything.

Eddie makes quick work of your t-shirt, discarding it haphazardly to the floor. His fingers skate down your chest, teasing your nipple and you hitch up, a groan knocking at your chest at the sensation. You can feel a throbbing--now the dull ache of your sore face and hard cock mingling together as Eddie disrobes you. His touch is gentle and sure, but his pace is quick. He is tender but he is not wasting time.

You reach out for his bicep as you pushes you back further up on the bed, dull fingernails digging into the flesh and muscle. Eddie laughs at the way you moan out his name. It sounds like music, but Eddie finds glee in the way you melt for him.

"I would apologize for how hasty this is, but I think you're too blissed out to even care," Eddie whispers into the skin of your neck.

"I-" you swallow down part of the moan that works up your throat at the suckle of Eddie's plumps lips. "Fuck, I really don't care."

"Figured as much," Eddie laughs. He kisses down your chest, working your jeans and boxers down too. The sight of you, hard and leaking onto your own stomach makes Eddie's mouth salivate and his own cock to twitch in his pants. "Fuck," he whispers before taking you into his mouth.

You throw your head back, and the throbbing that he'd pushed aside for the moment comes rushing back again so you angle your head down again and huff as the work of Eddie's tongue over you. His free hand keeps tight on your pelvis, pressing you down into the mattress as everything in you wants to rut up into the warmth of his mouth. his spongy tongue runs along the underside of your cock and it makes you see stars.

It's lewd--the sounds Eddie ms making but you don't care as you join in, your groans bursting from your chest. You're not going to last long, not with the way Eddie's tongue and hand are working over you.

You teeter right on the edge before Eddie pulls away firmly. "You fucker," you huff, the last tense edge of your impending orgasm floating away.

"I want to watch you when you cum," he states. It's even and measured no hesitation or uncertainty.

Eddie spits into his hand before grasping you again and he watches, every twitch of your face, every time your jaw goes slack--Eddie watches it all and the blinding edge comes back. You can feel it in your toes.

"Shit." It's all you can muster and his name falls broken just behind it.

"That's it," Eddie encourages. "That's what I want," he smiles, when the first hot spurt hits his hand. "Give me all you've got."

His hand keeps an steady stroke over you and you don't have any air to tell Eddie you can't come anymore, that you have given everything and then he lets go and you think you've plummeted back into the stratosphere all the way down back to Eddie's bed.

The frame creaks and then something warm and soft is against you. You realize now, probably a cloth to clean up the mess you've made. It's not until Eddie returns to the bed, how he brings your naked chest up into his chest--now stripped over the t-shirt he'd put on this morning--that you start to regather your thoughts again.

"Give me five and you're next," you mutter into his chest.

"I'll give you ten so I can ice my eye."

"Sounds perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munso x reader #h writes #stranger things

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