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choke-me-joey · 1 year

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Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff #eddie munson

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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Movie Stars - Eddie Munson x Reader

WC: 5K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Distracting Jason Carver means a lot of flirting, and Eddie isn't too happy about seeing his best friend hanging off of the star basketball player. Jealousy ensues, but will it ruin your friendship?

Contents/Warnings: Jealous!Eddie, arguments, silent treatment, Eddie is angry for a bit, fluff, angst, angst to fluff, fluffy ending, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

"Fuck," Eddie hisses, telltale sound of Jason Carver's booming voice bidding goodbye to his friends already starting down the hallway, "He's coming!"

Eddie hasn't finished the note he's scribbling yet, the prank being your idea after Jason dumped a carton of milk over Eddie's van just the day prior. Sitting out in the hot sun, his van reeked.

The note says something along the lines of 'Meet me under the bleachers tonight at midnight ;)', and Eddie takes care to use his fanciest calligraphy handwriting to make it seem adoring. You know Jason will fall hook, line, and sinker for the secret admirer gag, because his ego is through the roof and he's desperate for a girlfriend.

Your plan will land Jason shivering under the bleachers tonight, sprawled out over the dewy grass before he finally realizes no one's coming. You're hoping he ends up too tired for the game tomorrow night, and without their star player, the Hawkins High basketball team won't stand a chance.

You can hear the squeak of Jason's sneakers on the linoleum, thinking quick and dashing down the hallway.

"Hurry!" You hiss to Eddie, patting him on the shoulder hastily and nearly rocketing into the basketball star as you round the corner.

"Woah!" He steadies you, but looks rather unimpressed when he recognizes you, "What do you want, Y/L/N?"

"I- I was wondering if I could talk to you," You dip your head down slightly, making your eyes appear shinier as your lashes flutter prettily.

"About?"

"About," You drag the word out, sidestepping so that he can't duck around you, "Your game tomorrow! I'm really excited to see you play."

Jason's brow furrows, "You're coming?"

"Of course!" You keep your voice light and airy, a lovesick lilt to it that hurts to enforce, "I love watching you play."

"I thought you were Munson's girl," Jason narrows his eyes accusatorily at you, "Why aren't'cha hangin' with the freak?"

"We're just friends," Saying that is more painful than anything you've had to spew at Jason so far, but you try not to dwell on your underlying feelings for your best friend, "I.. I think you're really cool, Jason."

You almost puke. Inflating Jason's ego is easier than it looks, but it's sickening to watch him puff up with pride, a sick smirk sliding over his slimy face.

"Finally comin' around," He drawls, reaching a bold arm around your waist to drag you close to him. You stumble backwards slightly, your form now visible from the hallway, but not his. All that's visible from Eddie's position is you, Jason's arm around your waist and your hands pressing against what he's sure is Jason's chest to steady you.

"Oh!' You let out a surprised squeak, seeing Eddie's mane of brown hair bob down the hallway as he sprints for the exit, "Um, I'm sorry Jason, but I've gotta go!"

"But I thought-"

"See you tomorrow for the big game," You smile placatingly at him from against his chest, patting it softly as you untangle yourself, "I'm sure you'll play great!"

You're off and running before he could chase you, and you ignore his confused calls of your name. You follow where Eddie had gone, slipping out of the hallway doors and squinting when the sun hurt your eyes.

You spot Eddie no problem, your best friend stalking towards his van in the parking lot. A bright grin spreads over your face as you sprint towards him, knocking into his shoulder lightly as you join him.

"It worked!" You let out a celebratory cheer, an incredulous laugh lacing your words, "I didn't think-"

"Stop." Eddie snaps, pushing you gently away from where you'd been butting against his side.

"I.." You flounder for something to say, "I'm sorry, Eddie, did I hurt you, or-"

"I'm fine." Eddie refuses to meet your eye, his voice still cold and stretched thin, "I gotta go."

"So do I," You giggle carefully, "You wanna watch a movie or something?" You finally get a good look at his face and his eyes are raging, something that makes your chest tight. His jaw is tight and you long to brush a finger over it, easing its tension. But you don't.

You reach his van and tug expectantly at the handle but he brushes your hand away, ducking into the driver's seat, "No, Y/N, I have to go. Not you. I can't give you a ride today."

"Oh." You feel your stomach shift uncomfortably, a strange sinking feeling in its pit, "I thought.. but- but everyday, you-"

"Not today." He simply states, checking his mirrors to avoid your eye, "Bye."

"Bye," You hardly manage to answer, stepping back as his van roars to life. You watch him peel out of the parking lot with tears stinging at your eyes, then you hear the door open behind you.

"Y/N?" It's Jason's voice, and it grates irritatingly at your ears, "Who you waiting for?"

"No one." You mumble quietly, the realization saddening you, "I.. I've gotta go."

"Lemme give you a ride." He offers, and you expect a sleazy smirk on his face when you turn. Instead it's a soft furrow of his brow, concern etched into his annoying features.

"It's okay," You shake your head, "I.. I should just walk."

"You live, like, ten minutes from here, by car." Jason scoffs, "Come on, Y/N."

"No," You insist, "Really, it's fine. Thank you for the offer, Jason." You step back when he starts for you, frustration taking over his face, "I'll enjoy walking."

"Whatever." Jason rolls his eyes, "Y'know, I was trying to be nice to you. 'Thought you were all over me a few minutes ago."

"Just go," You grit your teeth, already starting down the street for home, "'See you tomorrow, I guess."

You hear him mumble something under his breath, and it sounds suspiciously like, 'not sure if I want to.' But you don't care, because you don't want to see him either, and he takes off in his car only a minute later, leaving you in the dust to walk alone.

For convenience's sake, you probably should have let him drive you. But you'd rather eat mud than let Jason Carver drive you home, giving him your address and ten minutes alone with you in an enclosed space.

When you finally make it home almost an hour later, your feet are killing you. You'd never realized how far you actually lived from the school, ten minutes in Eddie's van while he talked your ear off and blasted music seeming like mere seconds, over too soon.

Worry spikes in your chest at the reminder of Eddie's foul mood earlier. Did someone say something to him outside? Did he get caught by a teacher? Did he have detention?

Then you remember his eagerness to leave. Was he in trouble? Did he get hurt? Was there an emergency?

Against your body's desperate pleas for rest, you reluctantly keep your shoes on, tossing your backpack onto the couch. You'll get an earful from your parents later about the dirty bag on their clean furniture, but Eddie is more important than a lecture, and you set out again.

The sun is beating down on you as you trek to the trailer park, and it takes you even longer to get there than it had to get home. You're sluggish and sweaty when you finally traipse up the stairs to Eddie's trailer, knocking sharply on the door.

"Eddie?" You call, peering in a window to see the lights in his room on, "Eddie, open up!"

No reply. You shift on your feet, the soles of them aching, "Eddie, it's hotter than balls out here! Please just let me in!"

You hear light shuffling from behind the door, then a lock clicks, and Eddie stands unimpressed in front of you, the door swung open.

"What do you need?" He glares at you, his rotten behavior a complete 180 from his usual bubbly disposition. He gets a good look at your flushed, sweaty face, "Jesus, did you come from hell?"

"Almost," You grimace at the reminder of nearly being in Jason Carver's car, "Let me in."

You move to brush past Eddie but he sidesteps you, keeping you on the porch. Your lips part indignantly, "Eddie!"

"You can't come in." He grumbles, his brows low over his eyes, "Just go home, Y/N."

"I just walked here for an hour," You seethe, "And I did it because I was worried about you. Let me in, dickhead."

He scoffs unimpressed at you, and your heart stings. It's not the first time he's been cross with you, but it's the first time you don't know what you've done, and it hurts to know that he's being this cold.

He finally steps out of the way, and you head instantly for the kitchen. You rummage through a few plastic cups, pulling out your favorite one and filling it with water. While you're chugging it Eddie sits atop the counter, watching you warily.

"So fuckin' messy," He chides, his voice still sharp, "Get over here."

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, smearing away a droplet of water that you'd managed to spill. His touch feels amazing, which is scary because you've only been deprived of it for a few hours, but he pulls away far too soon and crosses his arms over his chest.

"So?" He raises a brow at you, "What do you need?"

"I need to know what's wrong with you," You soften your voice, staring up at him imploringly where he's perched on the counter, "I.. I don't know what happened, but I know something's wrong. And I hate it when you're angry at me, but now I don't even know what I did, and-" Your voice teeters on the edge of cracking, and you rein yourself in with a deep, steady inhale, "I don't know what to do. I don't like this."

You feel hot tears brim in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to try and dissolve them. You're embarrassed, and you're not sure if it's for doing whatever you did, for not knowing what you did, or for crying. You feel pathetic, and you look away from Eddie miserably.

You can't see it, but his teeth dig gently into his bottom lip. He's never made you cry before. Tears sting at his own eyes, a warning of what's to come if he keeps brushing you off, and his hand shakes as he reaches it towards you.

"Y/N.." He breathes carefully, ghosting a hand over your shoulder. You flinch away from the contact and he can pinpoint that as the exact second his heart breaks, biting his tongue to keep himself from crying.

"You.. you don't get to touch me," You whisper, a broken sound as your arms wrap around yourself in a semi-comforting hug, "Not yet. Not until this is over. What did I do, Eddie, why are you treating me like this?"

This time it's Eddie feeling the absence of your comforting touch, itching to yank you into a bear hug and suffocate you until you're not angry with him anymore. Having something taken away is much different than being the taker, Eddie finds out, and he curls his fingers around the counter to prevent himself from crossing your boundaries and smothering you with apologies.

"I was upset.." The past tense refers to only seconds before, still mad when you'd shown up. But your tears had simply eradicated his jealousy, the shining trails down your cheeks stabbing at his chest.

It's a shitty explanation and he knows it. He watches your face screw up, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as your lips purse to withhold a sob.

"I.." He continues, desperate to comfort you but unable to, knowing the words that were about to escape him were meaningless against your tears, "I got jealous, sweetheart."

"Jealous?" You query brokenly, your voice thick with sadness, "Of who?"

"Of Jason," He admits bravely, putting himself out of his comfort zone to pull you back into your own, "You were.. you were really layin' it on thick, baby."

The pet names don't instill the same comfort they normally do in you, but they do assure you that Eddie can't be too mad at you. You sniffle miserably, glancing up at him through tears, "So? 'Was just for some stupid prank." You rub at your nose with your sleeve, "Why did that make you jealous?"

"Cause it sounded right." Eddie sighs, rubbing a hand over his tired expression, "It.. it looked right, too. I mean, it looked wrong, you and him. But his arm looked.. natural around your waist. And your hands were all over his chest," He groans, "It just seemed real."

You're skeptical now, squinting up at him suspiciously, still through a layer of unshed tears, "So? What are you trying to say, Eddie?"

Eddie lets out a strangled, frustrated groan, hopping down from the counter, "I'm saying I want my arm around your waist!"

You've got the same unwavering, confused look on your face, and Eddie's not bothered to admit to himself that he wants to kiss it off of you. But he doesn't want to scare you, so he backs against the counter instead, "I like you, Y/N."

"I should fucking hope so." You mumble, "'Been best friends for years."

"No, I- hnggh," He nearly laughs, your obliviousness comically intense, "Y/N, I'm in love with you."

Now that, you understand.

His confession hits you like a ton of bricks, and you stand frozen, dumbfounded in his cramped kitchen. He had never confessed to you in the first place out of a fear of rejection, and now every second that you stay silent he feels the crack in his heart slowly tear apart.

Finally, finally you speak, mumbling an abrupt, "Oh."

"Oh?" He repeats fearfully, "What does 'oh' mean?"

"Oh."

"Come on baby," He jests weakly, "'Gotta give me a little more than that."

"You.." Your brows dip adorably into a furrow, "You like me?"

"I do." He nods once, "Is that... is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Your shoulders relax from where they'd been stiff by your ears, and Eddie swears he can feel every ounce of tension leaking from his body, "I like you too, Eddie."

You say it so casually, and it's the answer Eddie had been hoping for, but the relief that rushes through him at your admission is heavenly. He wonders if you really know just how much it meant to him, the five simple words that you're changing his life with.

"You.. you do?" He asks, hesitant to get ahead of himself in case this was a bizarre, torturous dream that would shatter him when he woke up, "'Cause you don't have to lie to me, baby. If you don't, it's okay, I won't-"

"Shh," You step forwards, placing a finger over his lips and gazing into his eyes. He swears he's dreaming when you drag the finger from his lips over his chin, up his jaw, and settle it into his hairline as your other hand comes up to join the first one on his free cheek.

You're cupping his cheeks. You're cupping his cheeks, Eddie can feel his heart racing as you stare at him, your gaze dreamy.

"I'm not lying." You insist, "Of course I like you. How could I not? You've got these pretty brown eyes," You muse softly, your thumbs ghosting over the soft skin beneath them, "And your nose is so nice," You run a finger down it affectionately, then lean in to pop a kiss to its tip, “‘S good for kissin’.” He feels his heart explode, then your finger immediately goes back to his cheek, "And.. and you've got really nice lips."

To prove your final point your fingers dance over them, the soft pillowy pads dipping slightly under the pressure you apply. Eddie feels like he's dreaming, caught up in some heavenly universe that he could get sucked out of any second, and he tries desperately to commit the feeling of you admiring him to memory before it slips away.

"I want to kiss you," You confess, your fingers pressing softly against his lips, "Can I?"

'Course you can," He breathes incredulously, his lips puckering to press gently into the pads of your fingertips. It's intimate, love bleeding through the gesture.

You only remove your hands to fulfil your promise, pressing your lips to his own in a careful, delicate kiss. It's soft, sweet, and dizzying, only lasting for a few seconds before you both pull away. Your head is fuzzy, and it leaks into your heart. He's looking at you like you hung the moon, his big doe eyes shining with adoration as they flit over your face.

He can't believe this is real. He can't fathom that he's just kissed you, that you've just kissed him, that you two have kissed.

He’s not sure how many nights he’s fallen asleep thinking about you. He tends to fantasize, though it’s a word he’ll never use for fear of embarrassment, about you. It's easier to fall asleep when someone else is there, and it's the easiest thing in the world when it's you. Most nights feature different fantasies, scenes in time from the preview of a movie he hopes is starting now.

Some nights he imagines what it would be like to teach you to play the guitar. You’ve strummed his mindlessly a few times, but he drifts off thinking about how adorable you’d be with his guitar in your lap, your fingers running cautiously over the strings as he compliments how metal you’re becoming.

Other nights you’re going grocery shopping with him in his daydreams. You lead him down the aisle, your fingers eagerly stretched towards a package of Oreos, and he gives in only if you promise to let him kiss the cream off of you after you’ve had a few.

The there’s the less common, but still precious, vacation fantasy. He supposes he doesn’t think about this one as often because he’s content where he is, as long as you’re there too. Still, sometimes it’s nice to imagine a ski lodge with you, snowflakes dotting your eyelashes and frosty air nipping at your nose. He’d make you hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and marshmallows, then he’d let you fall asleep on his shoulder before a roaring fire.

But this, you gently pressing your silky soft lips to his own slightly chapped ones in the dinky little kitchen of his trailer after confessing your love to him? He’s going to rewatch this scene every night for the rest of his life.

He doesn't think he looks much like a movie star. Maybe the star of an action movie, a rugged adventurer. But never a romance. Romances aren't made with guys like him, guys who have messy hair down their back and tattoos littering their chest. Romances are made for proper couples, couples that live in a three bedroom home, two kids inside and another on its way, dog and a picket fence. Couples that host backyard barbecues, that go to the lake on sundays, that buy their kids barbie dolls and monster trucks.

Not him.

You, though? You were made to be a star. Your pretty face, your sweet eyes and your soft lips. You're the pinnacle of romance, and it feels foreign to Eddie that he isn't an audience member anymore, instead the lead actor.

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to land the starring role in your romance, but he swears right then and there that he'll never botch the job.

"You taste good." You absentmindedly ghost your tongue over your lips, saliva now glistening on them as you contemplate, "You're sweet."

Eddie is absolutely certain you're wrong. He probably tastes like smoke, sweat, and the trail mix he'd had for lunch, which he assumes isn't a very appealing combination. But you lean in again with no hesitation, pressing your slightly dampened lips to his own.

This time, he lets himself react. Before he'd been frozen in terror, sure that any sudden movement would spook you and you'd flee. But now? Now he dives in.

He brings his hands to cup your cheeks, tilting your face slightly so that his nose doesn't run into your own. He'll admit, rubbing noses with you is one of his favorite things, or, used to be, before he kissed you for the first time, because it was just about the closest he could get without actually kissing you. He was always able to pass it off as a friendly gesture of affection, scrunching his face up into a smile and brushing his nose against your own. But now the gently brush of skin on skin is nothing compared to your lips on his.

His tongue longs to roll into your mouth, but he doesn't want to take things too far, not yet. He wants to savor this, he wants to feel every step of the process, cherish it before it gets too hot and heavy. Right now, he wants to kiss you, nothing more.

He brushes his tongue softly over your bottom lip to satiate his urges. It draws a soft whimper out of your mouth, a sound that, in any other circumstances would go straight south. But it warms his heart this time, hearing how much you're enjoying finally kissing him.

Though this kiss lasts longer than the last, it's still short. He really does want to take things slow, and he breaks away to rest his forehead against yours.

He can't help the grin that grows over his lips. He feels a similar one stretch your cheeks, his hands still cupping the slight pudge there. He's squealing inside, reduced to a giggling schoolgirl stomping his feet and doodling your names together inside of an arrow-struck heart. But he keeps himself relatively cool on the outside, feeling you press yourself tighter against him.

"Did I.. was that good? For you?" You question hesitantly, and his eyes drift open to meet your own only centimeters away. He realizes that you're insecure, that your eyes are wide with anxiety and that you're stiff in his grip.

Something is flattering about that. You'd just kissed him dizzy, reduced him to a blushing mess, and still you were worried about his enjoyment.

"That was.. perfect." He breathes, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, the familiar gesture skyrocketing in intensity, "I've been dreaming about that, baby."

"Dreaming? About me?" Your eyes shine, and Eddie promises to himself that the next time you close them, he'll kiss the lids. He wants to kiss every pretty part of you, from head to toe.

"About you," He confirms, "You're the star of all my dreams, sweetheart."

You giggle at that. He sees the tension drain from your frame, anxiety about not being good enough, and he watches you embrace your new role as lead actress.

"I've dreamt about you before too." You admit, raising one hand to press against one of his on your cheek, "We took your van to space, it turned into a rocket."

He lets out an amused laugh at your nonsensical dreams, not sure how to correct you that his were more on the domestic side.

"A rocket? That's cool." He murmurs, refraining from speaking too loud lest he shatters the silent intimacy you've created in the kitchen of his trailer.

"Eddie?" You hum softly, twisting one of his rings mindlessly around his fingers with your eyes downcast, "What are we now?"

He feels himself sucked out of his role. He swallows dryly, realizing that there was still a chance you might not want to be his costar.

"Well," He starts, his voice much more confident than he is, "Would you like to date me, sweetheart? I could be your boyfriend, if you want."

Then a blinding smile breaks over your face, and he's not worried anymore.

"I want you to be my boyfriend," You nod eagerly, now bouncing on the balls of your feet on the tile, "You mean it, Eddie?"

"'Course I mean it," He urges, "I'll give you my jacket when you're cold, and I'll catch you when you jump into my arms to say hello, and I'll lend you my shirts to wear for bedtime."

"You already do all of that stuff," Your nose wrinkles slightly in confusion, "I'm wearing your shirt right now."

He glances down at your torso, and hooks a finger under the hem of your jacket to reveal an old Iron Maiden shirt he'd let you borrow. He feels sheepish as he realizes he's already been pseudo-dating you for years, and picks out the one thing he's missed.

"Well then I'll kiss you," He promises, "All the time."

"All the time?"

"All the time." He threatens, his eyes growing wide as his hands clamp onto your hips, "You won't ever escape."

"Eddie!" You shriek as you make a run for it, giggling relentlessly as you sprint through his trailer and into his bedroom. He races after you, catching you before you can beeline for the closet and catapulting you onto his mattress. You land with a hearty bounce, and Eddie hovers over you before your back hits the bed again.

"Come here," He growls teasingly, his curls spread over your face as he digs his nose into your neck. His lips form rapidfire kisses on your skin, drawing hearty laughter from your chest that he hopes is part of the soundtrack for your movie, because he wants to listen to it on repeat. He presses his lips tight to your jaw, blowing a sloppy raspberry there and tightening his hold on your hips when you try squirming away.

"Eddie!" You finally manage to catch his face in your hands, tugging it away from where he's smothering it into your cheek, "Eddie, that tickles!"

You're breathless, your chest heaving with laughter, and Eddie takes pride in being able to do that to you. He makes you laugh. He makes you smile. He makes you happy.

You're staring up at him with a lovesick grin on your face that he's sure is displayed over his mouth too. So he connects them, bending his elbows to kiss you for real.

Despite your somewhat suggestive position, he keeps his hands to himself. They're holding your hips, content in their positioning as he lays another sweet kiss to your lips. This time when he breaks away he collapses beside you, keeping one leg thrown over yours. His hair fans out over the pillow and tickles your face, and your nose scrunches as you splutter.

“Sorry,” He’s really not, because getting to see your face all bunched up as his hair tickled your nose was priceless, but he lies.

“‘S okay,” You grab one of the strands you’d just spit out of your mouth, twisting the end of it around your finger, “And your hair! I like your hair too.”

Eddie’s heart explodes as he realizes you’re adding onto his list of likable qualities from before.

"Oh yeah? Well," He decides to return the favor, slipping his arm underneath yours that's still toying with his hair, "I like your nose."

He leans in to press his lips to it, "Yours is good for kissing too."

You giggle under him, a light, airy sound that sends his tummy turning.

"And your eyes," He runs a thumb through your lashes and they flutter beneath his touch, "'Can see aaaall that love you've got in there for me."

He realizes too late that it's a step you haven't taken yet as lovers. Sure, you've told him that you love him plenty of times, and he has too. But now it's different, now it's more.

But, he realizes, as your eyes shine with adoration, your lips moving to echo his sentiment, it's not more. It's the same as he's always felt about you, suffocating, intoxicating, all-consuming. He's loved you like this forever.

He grins as you tell him you love him without hesitation. He feels like the luckiest man in the world as he settles down beside you, your eyes following his as your lovesick grin becomes permanent. He's not sure if his own will ever fade, not as long as he's got you by his side. Just like you are now, tucked neatly into his chest, the collar of your jacket riding up to cover your jaw. He tugs it down and presses a kiss to the jut of your chin, then leaves his face there nestled into your own. He feels your own lips pucker to stain his skin with a soft peck, tightening his hold around your waist as he keeps you close to him in his bed.

"Y'sleepy?" You drag a single finger through his hair, letting your nail ghost over his scalp. He nearly purrs, reduced to a clingy kitten amidst the tsunami of love that had just washed over you both.

"Just happy." He hums. The droop of his eyelids is drawn from contentedness rather than exhaustion, the haze taking over his brain comes from the steady scent of you that he's breathing in while his face is nuzzled against your own.

"Me too," You admit, "Can we just stay here for a while?"

"Baby," He chuckles breathily against your face, seemingly unable to stop the onslaught of kisses that he's smothering you with, "We're never getting out of this bed again. I'm keeping you here forever."

tags: @spencestyles @lovinondylanobrien @th0rswh0res @hannyhoe @desireav @1800-fight-me

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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rusmii · 4 months

Note

hihi srry for bothering u erm, any racer!chuuya hcs or racer!dazai hcs?

thank u for ur time

MY PRIZE MY WOMAN - n. chuuya, d. osamu

fem!reader x racer!chuuya + racer!dazai hcs in scenario format

[✦🏁]. . . quack. decided to have a go at this format again.... [chuuya is a socal street racer, dazai is a norcal professional racer]

[cws]. . . dazais is a little longer than chuuyas bc i got carried away 💀, chuuya has this noticeable heavy accent, dazai is engaged to reader and proposes to reader on their anniversary, use of profanity, MENTIONED: betting money/humans (chuuyas), lying/manipulation/gaslighting/doxxing (this is all dazai), police getting involved in chuuyas part, illegal street racing in chuuyas part (street racing is illegal in cali that's why)

.001 — CHUUYA

"LOOK IT'S CHUUYA!!!"

as the crowd cheers as loud as it can; mainly women who show up at the crack of dusk just to watch street racer!chuuya zoom down the street, far ahead of everyone else. no one knows how he does it, how he modified his car to be the exact thing most other racers fear — what seems like a regular modified car, physically a carbon copy of how the others look, is a baby that can tap the gas at extreming speeds.

when street racer!chuuya lines his car up with his opponents, he gives them a smile. no, not a smirk, a smile; mockingly knowing the deep-rooted anxiety it gives them. "give it your best shot, yeah?" is what he always tells them — questioning their retaliated aggression whenever they spit back at him, anger seething through their grit.

"damn look at that speed!"

as soon as shots are fired, street racer!chuuya's car is already down the street within seconds - more than a few miles ahead than his opponents. his baby curving sharp turns perfectly — watching in his rear view mirror how some people almost crash into bridges and buildings as they fail to slow down in time for the next sharp turn — their rage turning into his high; windows open, laughs as loud as the quake when chuuya's car races back around to the line for another lap.

street racer!chuuya who smirks at everyone's dumbfounded reaction when he crosses the line first as soon as he completes his second lap, some behind him and others not even close to finishing their first lap — giving you a wink when his car pulls up in front of you as he whistles, beckoning for you to come in.

"who the hell is that?"

"you don't know? that's his girl - [name]! they always drift together! it's an absolute must for chuuya!"

not even bothered by the stares of envy, you crouched down into his car - the door slamming behind you as your boyfriend walks to the driver's side. "buckle up, we're goin' in circles dolly," street racer!chuuya warns, opting to lean over and grab the belt himself, the metal clicking in place. shifting the gear selector, chuuya rolls his car back to make room for the other cars — everyone in their own circle, some cars already starting up 'n ready to go.

"yo, nakahara! wanna bet? you win, you get how much ever ya' want - we win, we get your girl. deal?"

"that's fine. just don't cry when you lose everythin' ."

now in drive move, engine revved, you sitting next to him - the perfect scenario; perfect motivator for him to put in everything's he's got into this competition. he couldn't lose, not with you on the line. "hold on tight doll, we're goin' fast tonight," street racer!chuuya squeezes your thigh one last time before focusing his attention back on the road — giving a subtle smirk to said man who was sticking his tongue out at you. "sweetheart yer' comin' home with me tonight!" he yells at you through the window, rolling it back up as soon as the gun goes up.

the guy cursed to hell and back, chuuya leaning against the door of his car as he waited for him to drive in from the line. "chu, you didn't have to do him dirty like that," you laugh, legs crossed on the hood of his car. "couldn't have my girl thinkin' i wouldn't put in my all — betting on the line doesn't matter — as long as it's you, i'd forever sacrifice my everything f'you," street racer!chuuya grins like a lovesick fool, his one and only being able to soften his rough exterior no matter where they're at.

when worst comes to prevail, street racer!chuuya is by no means weak. gladly fighting men, women, and kicking children out of the lots if they were messing with you. with no hesitation, he cranks his arm, getting ready to throw a punch towards the man's face. "who's sweetheart you takin' tonight? 'cause it's certainly not mine."

"shit it's the police!"

"make a fuckin' run for it everyone!!"

ah - if there was one thing that street racer!chuuya absolutely loved about the freedom of the streets, were its laws and how he breaks every single one of them. pressing on the gas, he grips the wheel, eyeing for a clearing entrance from the hundreds of scattered crazies — junkies, methies, regular people or not — they were in his way and if he needed to, he'd run them over just to get you outta there safe.

"buckled up? great - now let's get you outta here safe, darlin'," street racer!chuuya winks and taps his baby, the cars ignition getting ready to blast off as soon as he finds a clearing.

.002 — DAZAI

"and over here in the blue car, number #17 — WE HAVE, OSAMU DAZAI!!!"

as number #17 revs its engine, the black tint barely concealing his identity — professional racer!dazai tuts at the sound of light. announcing to the host to hurry its introducing and start the race already. with the signal ready, dazai grips his wheel - staring at you as a good luck omen before setting off once he heard the go.

in the relay, cars have no boundaries — beating the metal til the other explodes out of weakness. too bad explosions weren't as common as they were uncommon, professional racer!dazai did love a little chaos and fire that went off behind him as he crossed the line first in their final lap.

clashing and crashing weren't just his favorite pass times in the lobby, though. what really made professional racer!dazai's day were the checks he earned whenever he won the race; bitter and sour expression being thrown his way as he pretends to pay no mind, secretly eating up every single reaction and hatred that consumes the losers of the relay — a sadistic play, other racers like to say. well, whatever they say, goes out from one ear to another as he's paid extra to participate in special racing relays.

"we have contacted a very special guest to participate in today's race!! GUESS WHO??!"

when professional racer!dazai's car drives into the last lane, everyone is cheering and shouting; the racers banging their heads somewhere in their cars as they cursed whatever devil set them up to be racing against the osamu dazai — said devil himself grinning from ear to ear, eerily creepy as he gave them a thumbs up. "good luck! don't die before me!" he laughs one last time, sending shivers down their spines.

"no way! he cheated!! there's no way he could have won! this ain't the streets - this shit is the real deal! where us real racers race for the - !!"

"i'll take that as a compliment, thank you very much! but might i correct that i do not cheat, you are simply just too weak to be in this profession."

professional racer!dazai who's smile does not falter when he is being degraded and insulted, any indication on his face not being shown through his well trained composure. when people call bullshit, dazai calls doxxing them and everyone they love to make them retract their claims and accusations — all in the guise of an innocent facade as he plays dumb to the rumored 'dazai''s cheating curse'.

"ah! - this note from our extremely talented winner says, 'this win is dedicated to my beloved [name]!' ".

"[name]? isn't that the name of his fiance?"

"as the announcer had just said, this win, as so all my other wins - belongs to my very beautiful love, [name] dazai!" a gasp escapes from the audience, what? the, fuuuck..? since when did you guys finally tie the knot? "oh! - you guys might be wondering when we got married, but it was actually a lie! we're just friends!!! - OWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" professional racer!dazai yells in pain when the sharp end of a shoe is thrown at his head.

"we're not married yet, but we're still engaged YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!" you scream angrily, sticking your ring finger up high and proud as the crowd gasps again. getting ready to leave, a hand grabs ahold of you, twisting you back around to face your fiance. when you were about to scream at them, they pointed to the ground, "please uh - hear your about to be husband out first..?"

"my beautiful [name], will you marry me?"

finally, professional racer!dazai who was the one behind this entire race competition. all the racers, the audience, the hosts — he orchestrated it all in order to plan for this very moment; pulling strings after strings to be able to pull it off. at the same time, the racers cars pull up, all curving on the dirt outside of the relay — in the form of letters as they drift to complete a full sentence, 'Marry Me [Name]!!!'.

mouth slacked open, you stare in disbelief, walking down the bleachers that the group around you have cleared. and there, you see - your fiance - about to be husband, holding keys as a very special car pulled around him. "happy anniversary [name]," professional racer!dazai smiles softly when he sees your excited expression. "Holy shit! holy shit! holy shit! holy shit!!!" you jump, running up to dazai and bear hugging him. "exact model and color huh?" dazai laughs, handing you the keys as you nod, "perfect!" — the perfect car you've been longing for since you first laid eyes on it.

belongs to @churuai DONT STEAL >:(((

taglist (free to join!): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani

other tags 🩷: @atlasnessie @xxcandlelightxx @bandshirts-andbooks

#[˚₊‧꒰ა🩰] — runi #professional racer!dazai #street racer!chuuya #idk how i feel abt this one #idk if i like it or not #erm.. i have another racer hcs for yall if you didnt like this one either😞#erm cali boys yasss #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #[☆] — anon

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heli-writes · 1 month

Text

Heartbreak and other nuisances

Pairing: Pro-hero!Deku x female!reader

Summary: Love is never easy, especially when you're the number one hero of Japan. After getting dumped by his childhood love, Deku just can't seem to get it right, much to his mother's disappointment. When he meets y/n, he is convinced it will just be a one-night stand. Or being fuck buddies. His broken heart stands in his way. And you've got your own demons to fight.

Disclaimer: nsfw, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, angst, heartbreak, bisexuality

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Minors do not interact.

Note: It's very long. This might become a series later but for now can be read as a one-shot.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Deku watches the skyline of Musutafu and tries to ignore the ringing of his phone. His patrolling shift ended a few hours ago But he can't bring himself to go home to his empty apartment.

His phone keeps disrupting the silent piece of the rooftop he is sitting on. He sighs and rubs his temple. It's probably his mother or one of his friends bugging him to go out with them.

Digging through the pockets of his hero suit, he eventually finds the ringing device. Two missed calls from his mom, three text messages from Kirishima and Denki and an email from his PR manager. He decides to check his voicemail first.

"Hey it's mum again, you haven't picked up the phone after my last few calls. So I tried again. I was just wondering if you'd like to come over on Saturday for a nice dinner with me and Toshinori. You don't have to of course but I'd be looking forward to seeing you again. Anyways, just give me a call when you have time to check your messages.", his mother's voice comes out of the phone.

He sighs and types in a quick reply.

> Hey, mom! Got your message. Sorry for not calling you back, work's a lot at the moment. Thanks for the invite, but I won't be able to make it.

His mother answers immediately.

>> Are you sure? You really should take a break from time to time. We're worried about you.

Izuku stares at the screen and pulls at his lip in thought. Just when he's about to give his mother a cheap excuse, another message pops up.

>> Yo, are you in on Saturday or not?

He opens the chat and reads that Kirishima and Denki invited him to a concert on Saturday. Then, he opens the chat with his mom again.

> Don't worry about me, mom. Actually, I can't come on Saturday because I am going to a concert with Kirishima and Denki.

>> A concert? Honey, that's nice. Have fun then!

Izuku sighs in relief. Another worried talk with his family was avoided. He's sure that he cannot stand another "A hero must have a balanced life"-talk by Yagi.

He quickly responds to Kirishima's message before putting the phone away and starting his way home.

~*~*~*~

The jeans feel uncomfortable, Izuku decides. All in all, his hero costume is a lot more comfortable than his normal clothes these days. He wears it like a second skin. Sometimes he forgets to put it off when he comes home.

His phone vibrates.

>> We're downstairs. You comin'?

He quickly puts his phone into his back pocket and grabs his key and wallet.

~*~*~*~

"I swear to god, that were the finest pair of boobs, I've ever seen!", Denki ends his dramatic story of a girl he slept with last weekend.

"It's probably the only pair of boobs you've ever seen.", Kirishima comments jokingly.

Denki immediately starts to go on a rent about all the boobs he's ever seen but Kirishima ignores him and turns to Izuku.

"So, how are you, Izuku? Haven't heard from you for a while. Didn't think you'd actually come out with us tonight.", he asks him.

Izuku shrugs.

"Same old, same old.", he answers vaguely. "Is Kachaan joining us?", he quickly tries to change the topic.

"Nah, he's busy with his girlfriend. Dude's probably spending all day and night in bed fucking.", Denki says.

Izuku feels his stomach drop. Of course, he knows about Kachaan's girlfriend. They're together for little over half a year now and the press writes about them every other day. However, he kind of hoped that Katsuki would grow tired of her eventually. After all, the only person he had ever been with for longer than six months was Izuku.

Kirishima rolls his eyes. "Denki, is sex the only thing you ever think about?", he asks annoyed. Denki gives him a smug expression. "I'm young, single, and hot. Of course, it is.", he answers.

"Talking about sex, Izuku when was the last time you got some?", Denki asks his friend nonchalantly.

Izuku furrows his brows. He actually has to think about this. He had sex after Kachaan but all these hookups were meaningless so eventually he gave them up.

"Actually, I don't know.", he replies truthfully.

Kirishima pats his back. "You don't have to tell us, buddy. But remember, we're not the press. You don't have to save face around us.", he tells Izuku.

Denkis starts laughing. "Dude, I think he's being honest. Damn, then you really need to get some tonight! But don't worry, I got ya. There are plenty of hot chicks at the club I am taking you to!", he exclaims, "Let's go!"

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the club is some kind of old, rundown pub at the end of town. Part of Izuku is glad Denki took them to a place like this. It's less likely to be found by paparazzi around here. Then again, it probably also wouldn't be good to be found by the press in a place like this.

Both Denki and Kirishima don't seem to care about that when they enter the place. There's a small stage at the end of the wide room. The banner over the stage indicates that some kind of rock band will be playing soon.

The trio makes their way to the bar first. After they've gotten their drinks, they find a corner to stand in and watch the crowd. It doesn't take Denki long to choose a chick for the night and he takes off to try his luck.

"So, how are you doing? I mean really? Don't give me a half-assed answer this time.", Kirishima asks.

Izuku takes a long drag from his beer. "Been telling you, I'm fine. Work's a lot but not surprising with our profession and status.", he mumbles just loud enough for Kirishima to hear.

Kirishima gives him a worried side glance. "You know that you don't have to carry this weight alone, do you?", he points out.

"Yeah, I know."

Izuku stares into his glass. He's not sure how or if he should make his friends understand that it's not work that lies heavy on his mind.

The truth is that the grand hero Deku is lonely. Simple as that.

He thought he found somebody special in Kacchan only to find out that it was nothing special to the explosion hero. Just something to pass the time until he found someone more fitting, someone more socially acceptable.

Izuku takes another drag from his glass when the lights suddenly dimmed. "I think the show is about to start.", Kirishima points out. "Wanna get closer to the stage?", he asks and Izuku just nods in response.

The two of them walk deeper into the small crowd that is forming. Somewhere in between the people, Izuku sees Denki's blonde hair light up.

A punk rock band enters the stage. "You know them?", Izuku asks his friend. Kirishima nods excitedly. "Yeah, they're pretty underground though. They're really cool. Katsuki introduced them to me!", he tells the green-haired men.

Blaring music starts and Izuku immediately knows that this is not his kind of music. He likes rock music but more classic hard rock like AC/DC. He can see though how this is right up Katsuki's alleyway.

Memories of loud punk music blaring out of speakers in Katsuki's bedroom flash before his eyes. He remembers the layers of sweat on his skin and the taste of Katsuki on his lips.

Suddenly, he feels nauseous.

"Hey, I'm getting another drink!", he yells over to Kirishima who already headbangs to the music.

Izuku makes his way over to the bar pushing through the masses of bodies. He starts to feel really uncomfortable. It's too loud, too hot, too stuffy.

When he reaches the bar, it takes a while to place his order. When he gets his drink, he stays at the bar. He's not too keen on throwing himself onto the dance floor again.

People squeeze past him left and right to get to the bar and get drinks. Uncomfortably, he tries to shift out of their way. Suddenly he bumps into someone with his back and cold liquid drenches his shirt.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry!", a female voice says behind him.

He turns around and then there's you.

You wear a short cocktail dress that compliments your cleavage. Your (y/h/c) hair is styled perfectly. Only your makeup looks a bit cakey, probably due to the high humidity in the pub you're standing in but Izuku doesn't even notice it.

"Don't worry, it's fine.", he mumbles and tries to turn away. He really doesn't want to get recognized. Especially not over a spilled drink.

"Are you sure?", you ask unsure but before you can say anything more, the man in front of you disappears into the crowd.

You watch him disappear in the direction of the toilets. You turn towards the bartender. "Excuse me, can I order what he had?", you yell over the music.

*~*~*~*

Izuku grips the sides of the sink. He splashes water into his face and looks at his drenched shirt. Luckily, it can be mistaken for sweat.

He would like to hole up in one of these toilet cabins. He really doesn't want to get back out there. Everybody out there seems to have a great time and he feels lost in the crowd.

Kirishima is probably already looking for him. The red-haired man already suspects that Izuku is not doing too well. He takes another deep breath before pushing himself off the sink and turning towards the door.

"Hey!", a voice says right next to him when he's out of the door. It's you again. You're holding two glasses of rum coke.

"For you. As a sorry for spilling my drink on you earlier.", you tell him and offer him one of the drinks.

Great, he thinks, a groupie trying to get my attention.

"Thanks", he tells her and takes one of the glasses. She gives him a curt nod.

"See you around", you tell him and turn around to leave.

Izuku stares after you. Did you not recognize him or are you not interested in him? Why does he feel slightly insulted?

"Hey, man, there you are. We were already wondering if you picked up a chick and left us behind!", Kirishima jokes and pats his shoulder.

*~*~*~*

"Izuku, are you coming over this weekend? We'd really like to see you again.", his mother says over the phone.

"You know, mom, I'm really busy. I don't know if I can make it.", he tells her trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Then we come over and I cook you a nice meal. I still have the spare key to your apartment.", his mother proposes gleefully.

Izuku rubs his temple. He really doesn't want his mother and Yagi to sniff around in his apartment. There's still a box of Kacchan's stuff under his bed.

"Alright, mom, I'm coming over for dinner, okay?", he gives in.

"Yes, honey, that's great. We're looking forward to seeing you.", his mother tells him contentedly.

After hanging up, Izuku rubs the sides of his head and sighs deeply. He is not looking forward to this.

*~*~*~*

"Izuku, we're so glad that you could make it!", his mother chirps and immediately hugs him upon opening the door. Yagi pats him on the back.

They go easy on him during dinner. Asking polite questions about work and his friends. His mother pries a little bit too much on what Uraraka is doing lately for Izuku's taste.

After dinner, over a cup of tea, is when the real deal starts. Izuku notices his mother and Yagi changing a meaningful glance, probably a code that now it's time to torture him.

"So... honey, how's life besides work? Anything new?", his mother asks carefully.

Izuku avoids eye contact. "Not really, I guess.", he shrugs.

"I hope you don't work too long hours, my boy.", Yagi says.

Izuku shrugs again. "Well, you know what the job is like.", he tells the older man.

"Of course, of course... it just seems as if you are really pushing yourself lately.", Yagi replies.

"We're just a bit worried about you. We never see you anymore, you barely seem to go out with your friends anymore.", his mother adds.

"I went out with Kirishima and Denki last week.", Izuku tries to defend himself half-heartedly.

"And we were really happy to hear that. It's just that you seem to go out less and less.", his mother points out.

"That's not true.", Izuku starts to get irritated, "Actually I am going out again tonight."

"Oh really, with whom?", his mother shoots back. She sees right through him.

"With Denki.", Izuku says without batting an eye. Denki is probably out tonight anyway.

"That's wonderful, Izuku! How about we drive you? Then you can have a drink or two. You came here by car, didn't you?", his mother smiles. Izuku thinks it's a bit fake. It's probably because she knows he is lying to her.

"That'd be great.", he lies, "Let me check where I am supposed to meet Denki."

He pulls out his phone.

> Hey, are you out tonight? Mind if I join?

Denki answers within seconds.

>> Hell, yeah! I'm already out, just come around!

Denki writes and sends his location.

*~*~*~*

Yagi ends up driving him. Izuku feels like a teenager who is driven to a party by one of his parents.

"You know, your mother is just worried about you.", Yagi says into the silence of the car.

"I know but she really shouldn't. I'm fine.", he tells him.

"It's just that she sees the children of her friends and worries you might not have the same opportunities.", Yagi carefully says.

"What do you mean?", Izuku asks irritatedly.

"Well you know, they get married, have children. Mitsuki's been telling how Katsuki brings over his girlfriend. They plan to move in together.", Yagi explains.

Izuku's stomach plummets. They plan to move in together? There goes any hope of reconciliation.

When Izuku doesn't answer, Yagi mistakes his silence for shame.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with being single while you're young. I mean, I've been single for most of my career, but I've got to be honest with you. I regret not having children on my own and while I am very happy with your mother, I wished I had someone to share my pain and happiness when I was younger.", Yagi explains.

Izuku isn't sure what to say. I'd like a partner but he doesn't want me? I can't move on? Even if I could, I probably have no game?

"We both just wish you'd meet someone special.", Yagi finishes as he pulls up to the bar where Izuku meets Denki.

"Well, one does not really have control over that.", Izuku says flatly and gets out of the car.

*~*~*~*

"Izukuuu!! Over here!!", Denki's shrill voice rings through the entire bar. His arms are wrapped around a woman on each of his sides. The girls giggle.

Izuku would like to walk out backward again but there us no turning back now.

"Hey", he greets his blonde friend.

"My man! Was surprised to hear from you!", Denki greets him.

"Anybody else joining tonight?", Izuku asks and Denki shakes his head.

Great, now he can spend the rest of the night watching Deki flirt with random girls.

One of the girls by Denki's side gives Izuku coy eyes. "So, are you Deku? Denki's been telling us about you.", she asks him.

Izuku shoots his friend an angry glare and Denki shrugs apologetically.

"I don't know what he's been telling you, but I can assure you very little that he says is actually true.", Izuku replies dryly.

Before the girl can ask any more questions, Izuku excuses himself to order a drink at the bar.

"A scotch, please.", he tells the bartender without paying too much attention to the other guests.

"Oh, look who we've got here. Are you stalking me, mister?", a voice says next to him.

There you are, again. Your hair hangs loosely over your shoulder and you pop a few peanuts into your mouth.

"Oh, it's you.", Izuku simply says.

"Charming.", you commented dryly.

You look him up and down.

"Why are you dressed like that?", you ask him.

Irritatedly, Izuku turns fully towards you.

"What do you mean?", he says offendedly.

"You look like you were invited to dinner by your girlfriend's parents for the first time", you say pointing at his white button-down shirt.

"I don't have a girlfriend.", he informs you.

You give him a toothy grin. "Good. You're cute.", you tell him.

Izuku shifts uncomfortably. He hates it when women look at him like that. Like he's meat.

"Sorry, I don't do casual dating.", he replies.

"Too bad", you shrug, "What are you doing then?".

"None of your business", he says coldly.

You pursue your lips. "Damn, who hurt you?", you joke.

Izuku doesn't like how you seem to see things no one else does.

"I just have different priorities.", he says.

You take a sip from your drink. "I bet.", you reply.

Finally, the bartender comes back with his drink.

Without another word, he turns to leave.

"See you around, I guess.", he hears you mumble behind him.

He's not sure why he was so rude to you. You didn't do anything wrong. You shot your shoot and took the rejection in good sport. He didn't need to be so mean.

He's not even sure why he rejected you. You look gorgeous just like last time. Your outfit compliments your natural curves and your makeup really made your eye color pop. Usually, you're totally his type. He's just really not in the mood tonight.

He spends the night brooding next to Kaminari. The girls by his side catch on his bad mood and don't bother him all evening.

*~*~*~*

He tries to be more outgoing. Meet friends, do stuff on the weekend. Things to send to his mother to prove he's out there, living his best life.

He's not.

Tonight, he is going out for dinner with Uraraka and Iida. He initiated the meet-up so he really has to go through with it tonight.

He arrives too early and has to wait for the two for a while. The dinner itself was quite pleasant. Iida is too polite to pry too much about his private life and well-being. And Uraraka is busy updating her two friends about her life. Apparently, she met someone through a friend and they are getting quite serious. His mom is going to hate hearing that.

After dinner, the three of them bid goodbye with the promise to meet up more often. Izuku knows that he probably won't be able to fulfill that promise.

He aimlessly wanders the streets. He doesn't want to go home yet. It's a real paradox. When he's home, he doesn't want to go out. And if he's out, he doesn't want to return to his empty apartment.

He's feeling nostalgic tonight so he decides to go to a place that Kacchan showed him when they were still a thing. Or whatever the hell they were.

It's a bar that has seen better days. It's usually quite empty besides some regulars who are twice as old as Izuku. The perfect place if you want to avoid noisy fans and the press.

Izuku slides into the bench that Kacchan and he always sat at. After he has ordered, he takes a look around. It seems as if time stopped in this place. Ironic, he thinks, it seems as if time has stopped for me as well.

Deep in thought, he doesn't notice how the door opens again.

"Daisuke, Hikaru, you here again? Don't you guys have wives at home?", a female voice says loudly.

When he looks up, he immediately wants to hide beneath the table. It's you. Again. Do you have a tracker on him or what? Why do you seem to appear everywhere he is?

Luckily, you're not looking in his direction. Instead, you talk to the middle-aged men on the other side of the room.

"And what about you, missy? What's a pretty young thing like you doing here every other night?", one of the men says. He sounds amused.

You shrug. "Well, what are you doing here? Drinking of course!", you tell them with a grin.

The other man shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You should at least drink with people your age, not old fucks like us!", he tells you.

You stretch your arms widely. "Well, you see any people my age? You old fucks keep invading this place!", you shoot back.

"Well, what about that guy?", the man answers and points directly at Izuku.

He wants to die. Great, here he hoped he could slip out again without you noticing him. He really doesn't want to talk to you. You turn around to him and your eyes light up.

"Hey, I know you! You're the stalker!", you grin.

Izuku looks offended. "I was here first!", he defends himself.

You give the waiter a sign and slide onto the bench in front of him. Great, just what he needed.

"Really? You're alone this time?", you ask him.

He curses you for being so perceptive.

He shrugs. "Maybe some people join me later.", he tells you.

The waiter walks over to the table and sets down a drink in front of you. It looks strong.

You look him straight into his eyes and say: "Liar".

Embarrassment shoots down his back. You take a sip from your drink and laugh.

"I know what lonely drinking looks like. Why do you think I am here?", you tell him.

"I don't know. You're certainly not dressed for a place like this.", he replies.

It's true. You don't look like you belong in a shabby bar like this. You're wearing a bright blue, floor-length ballgown.

You shrug. "What's it to you?", you bite back.

Oh. Izuku's eyebrows raise. He must've hit a sore spot there. Unfortunately for you, he's feeling bitchy tonight.

"Well, you look like one of those bridesmaids that are put into a terrible dress by a bridezilla.", he tells you.

Actually, it's not true. The dress looks gorgeous on you. It fits your skin color and hair updo perfectly. A sour expression appears on your face.

"I wasn't a bridesmaid. I chose the dress for myself.", you tell him.

"Ah, so you were at a wedding!", he says triumphantly. Apparently, he can read you as well as you can him.

You shrug.

"So what's with the lonely drinking then? Why pay for alcohol here when you could've just got drunk for free?", he asks.

"Staying too long at your ex's wedding is bad taste.", you tell him.

"Ah", he says and raises his glass taking a sip, "That's the reason for your lonely drinking? Still stuck on that ex?"

"Ha!", you exclaim. "Yeah, hell no. I'm glad to be rid of him. He's his wife's problem now. Thank god."

Izuku watches you closely. You stir in your drink and keep your eyes fixed on your nails. By the tone of your voice, he doesn't think you're lying. You sound bitter, though.

"Then what?", he asks.

"How old are you?", you reply.

"Twenty-eight. Don't change the topic.", he scolds you.

You shoot him a mean glance.

"I'm not changing the topic.", you tell him.

When he gives you a questioning look, you sit up straight and put your hands on the table.

"Alright, you're twenty-eight, uh...?", you start.

"Izuku", he tells you.

"You're twenty-eight, Izuku. How many of your friends and acquaintances are getting married, moving in with someone, maybe even having kids?", you ask.

"Quite a few.", he admits.

"Alright. Considering you're here, on a weekday, drinking alone, I'm guessing you're not even close to any of those things. How does it feel when someone brings that up?", you explain.

"Not good.", he replies dryly. What is it with you and catching onto things?

You throw your hands up in the air.

"Exactly! And what's the ultimate reminder of that than being invited to your ex's wedding?", you exclaim.

"So... I'm guessing you're far away from those things too?", he asks unsurely.

You give him a deadpan look. "The lonely drinking should've given it away.", you tell him.

You sigh exaggeratedly and lean back. Then, you empty your drink in one go. Izuku watches you slightly perplexed. When you slam down your glass, you give the waiter another sign.

"You know what the stupidest part of this is?", you ask him and he shakes his head.

"I don't even want those things. I'm sure I'm not even made for these things and still, somehow, it makes you feel bad, you know?", you ramble.

Izuku stays silent and takes another sip from his glass. He really doesn't know what he's doing here. Why is he talking to a stranger about things like this?

"You could ask me now what it is that I want.", you say.

Izuku rolls his eyes. "What is it that you want?", he asks.

"Good sex. That's really all I'm asking for but men these days don't deliver.", you reply exasperatedly.

Izuku almost has to laugh.

"Maybe you're just not meeting the right men then.", he tells you.

"Well, I'm meeting men like you.", you point out. There's something cat-ish about you when you say it.

"Maybe tonight is your lucky night then.", he says suddenly feeling cocky.

*~*~*~*

This was definitely not how this evening was supposed to go. He was not supposed to end up at that bar and he definitely wasn't supposed to take you home.

But here you are, on his bed, and him over you.

He already lost his shirt and you run your hands up and down his torso. His mouth is on yours, teeth and tongue clashing against each other.

He can already feel his dick getting hard.

He grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Without hesitation, you pull your shirt over your head and he's quick to open your bra. Quickly, you toss it to the side.

Izuku sits up a bit so that both of his hands are free to explore your boobs. Carefully, he kneads them with both hands. He kisses the side of your neck. He plants open-mouthed kisses along your neck, over your collarbone all the way down to one of your nipples. You throw your head back and sigh contently.

He runs the tip of his tongue over the hardened bud. He takes the nipple into his mouth gently sucking on it. All the while massaging it with his tongue.

You let out a moan and grind down on his hardened cock. His dick sits right at your slit. You keep grinding down on him, desperate for friction as he continues to tease your other nipple. You can feel how your panties get damp with each second.

You grab the sides of his head, forcing him to detach from your breast. You lean forward and kiss him again. Izuku runs his hands down your back and grabs your ass cheeks. Then, he helps you grind down on him. You break the kiss to let out a groan.

"Fuck, Izuku! You need to take off these pants!", you tell him.

He gives you a grin. "Same", he tells you.

Quickly, you get off of him and take off your pants and panties. When he's done taking off his pants, you both lie side by side. He pulls you close, your naked body pressing against his, and he claims your lips again.

You let your hands wander down his body. With your index finger you draw lines down his hip and thighs, avoiding his dick completely.

Izuku breaks the kiss and groans. "Don't tease!", he tells you and you laugh.

"So greedy", you nudge him but then give into his request.

Gently you wrap your hand around his hardened member. Izuku lets out a suppressed groan. You start in a slow space pumping his dick up and down. You spread the precum on it to make it feel even smoother.

Izuku plants a kiss on your shoulder and lets a hand wander between your legs. Slowly, he lets two fingers slide in between your warm folds.

"Fuck, you're so wet.", he groans. You shift a bit to give him better access, already panting.

Izuku draws lazy circles on your clit and you can feel more wetness slipping out your hole.

"Mhm, yes, Izuku that feels good.", you moan while still fisting his cock.

Izuku leans his forehead against yours. He dips his fingers a bit deeper, gathering some wetness and spreading it around your pussy.

Then, gently one of his fingers enters you and you can't help but let out a loud moan.

"That feels good, yes?", he mumbles and you nood.

Slowly he pumps his finger in and out of you.

"Shit", you curse. You long lost the ability to focus on pleasing Izuku.

He curls his finger inside you and you jerk.

"Can you take another, baby?", he says huskily and you nod.

He pulls out his finger and pushes two fingers in.

"Fuck!", you exclaim.

You lie back opening your legs wide for him. Izuku slides his fingers in and out you, occasionally curling them inside which almost sends you into a frenzy. He leans down and starts massaging your nipple with his tongue again.

Just when you feel a knot forming in your stomach, he pulls out. You whine in protest but he silences you with a kiss.

"You ready?", he asks you and you nod breathlessly.

He grabs a condom from the nightstand and quickly pushes the latex over his dick. Then, he takes one of your legs and places it over his shoulder. He sits up on his knees and grabs the hollow of your other knee pulling your legs further apart.

"Shit, your pussy looks so ready for me.", he tells you

"Who's the tease now?", you pant.

Izuku gives you a small grin. "Don't worry, I've got you.", he says.

He leads his dick to your entrance and your heart beats in anticipation. Slowly, he pushes his cock into your pussy. You both groan simultaneously in pleasure. He enters you in one swift movement. When his dick is nestled deeply inside you, he takes a deep breath.

"You okay?", he asks you and you give him a curt nod.

You jerk your hips because you're desperate for more friction. You feel so full but it's not enough. You need him to fuck you, to pound you.

"Shit, relax.", he groans when he feels your pussy clench around him.

"I've told you, I've got you. I'm gonna fuck you real good, baby", he groans into the skin of your leg.

Then, he starts rocking in and out of you. He starts with a steady pace.

"Fuck, yes, Izuku! Please, a bit harder!", you beg him.

He gives you a cheeky grin. "Harder? You can get harder.", he tells you.

He starts pounding into you in a heavy pace and you arch your back. Fuck, your pussy feels so good. His dick rubs you in all the right places.

Izuku's dick twitches at the sight of you. Your fucked expression, your jiggling breasts and god, how good looks his dick going in and out of you.

Suddenly, he lifts your other leg and lifts himself a bit higher allowing his dick to sink even deeper into your cunt.

"Shit, yes!", you yell out. Izuku keeps fucking you like this and his balls slap harshly against your ass cheeks.

Now, you can feel the knot in your stomach again.

"Keep going, Izuku, I'm getting there.", you tell him.

Izuku pants heavily above you and sweat drops down his chest. You think he's looking incredibly sexy right now. Also, you can't help but look down where is dick and your cunt are conjoined. The sight of his dick sliding in and out of you makes your stomach coil.

"Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. You make my dick feel like it's about to explode.", he tells you.

You clench your pussy and Izuku moans in delight. He grips your hips tighter and keeps fucking you now chasing his own height. His cock is hitting that sweet spot all the way back inside of you. You can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You let out a breathless moan and your eyes roll back into your head.

Izuku keeps the pace hard and steady, exactly the way you need to get over the edge. When your orgasm hits you, it feels like electric shocks going down your back, your pussy clenches and then your body suddenly goes limp.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.", Izuku groans taking up speed when he sees you orgasm on his cock. He fucks you through it and his own orgasm explodes right at the feeling of your clenching pussy. He fucks himself through his own high and then collapses on top of you.

It takes a moment for both of you to regain some thinking capacities. When his consciousness returns to him, Izuku slips out of you. You're lying next to each other, both facing the ceiling catching your breath.

„And? Did I deliver?“, Izuku pants.

He can't see it but you give him a side-eye. The questions weirds you out. Does he really need to get praised? Does he need to get approval so badly? Well, it supposedly makes sense. A pro-hero depends on the praise and approval of other people. You think it's a little bit pathetic. If he hadn't fucked you already, it'd be a major turn-off.

In all honesty, though, he did deliver. It was more than just good. He clearly proved he's got the stamina of a pro-hero. However, you don't stroke men's egos. Most men have a big enough ego as it is, so why inflate it further? Plus, this guy has girls fawning at his feet and you refuse to steep down on a groupie level. No, thank you.

For a moment you think about being mean and saying something like it was „alright“ or „okay“ but you take pity on the man. He made you cum, so you shouldn't be mean. Also, you wouldn't say no to him doing it to you again. So, be nice and keep the option open.

„I'm not sure what you expect me to say.“, you tell him truthfully and Izuku looks a bit embarassed.

„I'm not gonna sing your praise, but I tell you it was good. Definitely would do it again, but I've got an 8am appointment tomorrow.“, you say a bit softer.

Izuku props himself up on his arm as he watches you look for your clothes and dress yourself. Obviously, he knew this was nothing serious but he lowkey hoped you stayed the night. He knows Katsuki's girlfriend was a one-night stand at first who then turned into something more. Maybe part of him hoped something like that would happen to him too. Or maybe he just doesn't want to be alone tonight.

When you're dressed, you turn to him.

„Alright, I better get going.“, you tell him and Izuku only nods at you.

He doesn't really know what to say. Actually, he probably just sucks at one-night stands. It's probably why none of them ever turned out to be something more for him.

„So... see you around?“, you drawl when he doesn't answer you.

Quickly, Izuku puts on one of his well-practiced smiles and nods more enthusiastically.

„Yeah, see you around. I had a good time.“, he tells you and you look relieved. At least he isn't making it more uncomfortable than these things usually are.

You give him a quick wave and turn around to leave. Izuku holds his breath until he hears his front door fall shut. With a groan, he drops back onto his pillow facefirst.

Why does he keep doing this? He should know better. He's not made for these types of flings. He doesn't even want them. Izuku is a through-and-through relationship type of guy and yet he always ends up alone at the end of the night.

Maybe he can't hold someone's attention for more than a night or maybe Kacchan just ruined him for everybody else.

*~*~*~*

You fix the position of your panties as you wait for the elevator to reach the ground level. You quickly look in the mirror. Your hair and makeup look awful. Suddenly, you're very glad you're not staying the night. Nothing would be more shameful than to walk home like this in the morning.

You rub your temple. Your plan was to take somebody home from the wedding. So that your ex would see. Maybe that was already a stupid idea. Why would he care if his ex takes somebody home on his wedding day? It's the luckiest day in his life and there's a reason why it wasn't you standing next to him in a white dress.

Actually, it's probably for the best you didn't take someone home from the wedding. Maybe he would've laughed about it and said it fits the pattern. Y/n, the mess, never taking anything seriously, always out there for a good time but not a long time. At least like this, you left with your grace intact. Also, it helps a little bit that you looked absolute bomb in this dress.

You sigh deeply. And yet, he would've been right. After all, you had nothing better to do than go find yourself a hook-up at a random bar right afterward. Poor Izuku, he made it clear last time that he wasn't interested in something like this. And yet, he ended up in your spider's web. You wonder what changed his mind. Maybe it was the dress.

When the elevator reaches the ground, you quickly exit it and walk through the lobby in an equally quick step. There's no need for anybody to see you like this. You're almost out of the door when the post boxes next to the entry catch your eye. You stop for a moment.

No, y/n, this is a stupid idea, you tell yourself. He won't text anyway. What was that about not stepping down onto a groupie level? Then again, it was a pretty good orgasm. Hell, one of the best ones you had in quite a while.

Maybe you're still horny or drunk from earlier, clouding your better judgement, but before you can stop yourself, you pushed your business card through the slit of Izuku's post box.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in possible future parts]

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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months

Text

Distractions - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18

Minor DNI

Frat!Rafe x Female Reader

Ask:

Eek!!! Thanks for your ask! Frat!Rafe has a special place in my cewchie heart. I hope you're having a great weekend!

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Tags: @imyourdaninow @humanvampire13 @akashababy @dckweed @ashamedtobeawhitemanswhore27

@marahgubler @joannamuns9n @h34rtsformilli @romaescapes @jayla @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180

Warnings: SMUT, language, name-calling, drinking

Tiddie fucking, pet names (baby girl, rafey, baby), choking, spitting, tit slapping, cum play, degradation, Rafe is distracted, reader teases Rafe

✨Lightly edited✨

Rafe’s POV:

Four years and not a single loss, and here I stand, three cups away from defeat because I can’t stop staring at her fuckin’ tits.

“For fuck sake, Cameron. Can you-”

“Focus, Top? I am.” I snip in frustration as her friend hugs her from the side, pushing her breasts together. I swallow hard, trying my best to concentrate in the same breath as my defense. It's useless. Her body was made for sex. Made for me. Look at those fucking tits. She's mine. Sex... All the fucking time. Whenever I want. Just gotta get her alone.

“You're a mess,” Topper chuckles as he pulls yet another SOLO cup off the rack, lifting it to his lips

She lofts the ball, landing it in the front cup. Kill me now. Her tits move with her, bouncing as she celebrates with her sorority sister, blissfully unaware of the anguish she’s putting me through as well as the pressure of the hard-on in my jeans.

One of my frat brothers walks by, resting a hand on the small of her back. She looks over her shoulder; his gaze drifting from her cleavage to her eyes. She smiles brightly as he feeds her some bullshit line. “Time out!” I boom from across the table, pulling her attention back to me.

Top turns to face me, but I swerve around him, working my way to the other end as her doe eyes match mine, widening as they stare up at me. “You okay, Rafe?” She asks sweetly; her lashes flutter innocently, back slightly arched. The muscles in my body tighten as I hold back my primal urges to gawk. I scrunch my nose and suck my teeth in annoyance. “Rafe?”

“Uh yeah,” I breathe as I lean in a little closer. “You gotta stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Sure,” I sneer. “You have any clue how distracting you are? It's driving me insane.” She nibbles at her plump bottom lip, biting back a smile. “Wait… You do? Don't you?”

“M’sorry,” she sighs in a pouty voice, not a single ounce of actually “sorry” in her sorry.

“After we win, you're comin’ with me.”

“To do what?” She giggles as she steps a little closer.

“Like you don't know,” I chuckle breathily. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson. Nobody teases me. And, I don't fuckin’ lose.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, challenging me with her gaze.

“Looks like you're about to lose, Rafey,” she taunts as she nods to the table.

“Easy, princess-”

“Hey, uhh, we good?” Topper cuts in.

“Yeah, Top. We're great,” I smile, never losing eye contact with her. My frat brother walks by again, surveying the scene, giving me the perfect opportunity to stake my claim. I clear the void, pulling her lips to mine. Fuck, she’s sweet. She grabs my shirt, twisting it in her fingers, pulling me even closer. Her boobs press against my chest; the feeling alone making me want to end it all. “You're mine when we're done. Clear?” I mumble against her lips, making her smile again.

“You're cocky,” she breathes.

“M’cocky now. Huh?”

“I love it,” she sighs.

“Mmm… mine. You're mine. A’ight?”

I guide her back to her side before walking away. Rubbing a shit-eating grin off my lips, I do my best to get my head back in the game. I'm having her regardless… This is just foreplay for me.

She smiles at me from across the table, gloss-lipped and stunning, her hair freshly tossed to the side. Her cheeks blush as I give her a little wink. And, just like that, the tables have turned. She wets her ball, flicking off the water, aiming as her tongue pokes out in concentration. She hurls it too far, hitting me in the thigh, making me wince in fake pain. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, her already pink cheeks reddening further.

I lift my finger, tapping on my temple. “I'm in your head,” I mouth through a smile. She shakes her head ‘no’, crossing her arms across her chest. Fuck me. Her tits practically spill out of the top of her little party dress, an obscene amount of cleavage, derailing my focus yet again. Her eyes fall, trailing my fixation, landing on her breasts as well, making me swallow hard. Her lashes flick to mine, fully aware of just what part of her was truly that distracting that I had to pause the game.

“Am I’m in yours, Rafey?” She mouths in retort as she drops her hands, resting her palms against the table, leaning in as her eyes stay zeroed in on mine.

“Holy shit,” Topper mumbles, falling victim to her tactics as well.

“For fuck sake, Top-”

“Can you focus,” he finishes my sentence; roles reversed. “Yeah… Yeah. Have fun with her, buddy.”

++++++++

“Goddamn, baby,” I groan as I cup as much of her tits as I can get in my hands, squeezing them tight. She reaches down, looping her tiny fingers around the string of her thong. “Stop,” I smile. This round’s about me. It ain't about you. You lost. I won… I get my prize, and I'm fuckin’ your tits.”

“Rafe-”

“Shut up,” I chuckle teasingly. “Shut. Up. This is a lesson. A’ight. M’teaching you a lesson. And, later, when I got you cryin’ and whinin’ for my dick,” I groan as I draw my boxer off my body. “I might let you bounce on it.”

“Rafey, please…”

“Nobody teases me, y/n,” I smile as I tuck some hair behind her ear.

My lips lock with hers as I lift her off her feet and into my arms, gripping her round ass in my hands, feeling as she grinds her needy pussy into me. The soaked material wets my warm skin, teasing me further.

Tits now… Pussy later.

🩷 Y/N’s POV:

Rafe tosses you down onto the bed, boobs bouncing on impact as he licks his lips hungrily. “M’so wet, Rafe. Please,” you whimper as your fingers wrap around his rock-hard cock, tracing all nine inches to his fat head. His ab muscles flex tightly as you run your finger across his tip, collecting his precum before bringing it between your lips.

“Trust me,” Rafe smiles as he reaches over to his nightstand, snagging out some lube, “I felt that pussy, princess. You're a mess. Shame you were such a cock-tease. Hmm? Teasin’ me with these-” Rafe’s massive hands palm your tits, pushing them together before gliding his ruddy cock in between. His eyes roll back in his skull, practically growling at the sensation. Rafe sits down on top of you, crushing you with his weight. He lets out a sigh of relief, like that's all he wanted.

His parted lips curl into a smile as he watches you crank your neck, tongue snaking around his swollen cock head. “Fuck. You’re a little slut, f’me. Aren't you?”

“I am, Rafe. Holy shit,” you whimper as you cup your tits, pressing them together for him.

"You look so good... Oh my god," he moans as he draws out, quickly pushing himself back in. "Perfect tits. Fuck, baby girl," Rafe hails as he starts to roll his body; his aching tip popping through your cleavage each time, glistening with lube.

"You're so big," you whisper, making a smirk play on his parted lips. "I could make you feel so good.”

“Got no doubt about that,” he rasps, thrusting into you at the perfect pace, making you envious of your own boobs.

"Fuck, Rafe!" You whine as he gives you a show, his long cock gliding in and out again and again, making your cunt throb.

"You're gonna bounce on me later. Yeah? Grind you pretty little pussy while I suck on your tits." He slaps your breast, making you squeal.

"Y-Yes, daddy," you stammer. He smacks your other tit making your pussy clench around nothing as he continues to stroke.

Your thighs squeeze together, the visual stimulation enough to get you there as you watch Rafe use your body like a toy. You feel heat growing in your stomach as your thighs begin to shake.

He snatches your wrist, forcing it lower. “Play with your pussy, baby. I know you wanna.” You drop your legs to the mattress, splaying your thighs as you push your panties to the side; fingers rolling on your clit, making you moan. You grip your tit with one hand, Rafe clutching the other as he picks up speed, your body embarrassingly close to cumming already.

Rafe’s other hand comes around your throat squeezing tightly, making your eyes widen, sending you over the edge. "Oh fuck, Rafe!" You cry out, pussy fluttering wildly.

"Jesus.” He lets out a wicked laugh. “All from watching me. Huh? That’s some whore shit right there. Fuck. You look even prettier when you cum," he moans as his thrusts get messy. “Open your mouth, slut. Swallow it all. Yeah?”

You flatten your tongue as Rafe rises up on his knees, towering over you as he fists his cock fast. His eyes strain to stay open as he cums on your breasts and neck, your chin, up to your open mouth. You swallow what you're given, running your middle finger along your chin as Rafe tries to steady his breathing, sucking your digit clean, making him smile.

He grips your boobs in his large hands again, swirling his tongue on your soft skin, circling your nipples, licking a line through your cleavage, cleaning his mess before spitting it in your mouth. You swallow again as his beautiful blue eyes stare into yours. Rafe kisses you deeply, tongue reeling; the sweetness of his lips paired with his salty cum.

Rafe rolls you on top of him, rough fingers trailing down your spine as a smile stretches on his lips. “Lesson learned, princess?” He mumbles between kisses.

“No…” You sigh before sucking off his bottom lip nice and slow.

“No?” He chuckles.

“Guess you're just gonna have to try again.”

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chaotic-toasters · 26 days

Text

Boomerang

Alanna Kennedy x Teen! R

-----------------------

You don't know why you didn't say anything. You don't know why you didn't tell your mum that you were running out of your ADHD meds, but now you didn't have any more and you'd have to go to training without them.

"Y/N?" She called from the kitchen, voice echoing around the house. "We've gotta go, kiddo."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," you grumbled. "Hold your horses, mother."

The defender flicked your ear teasingly. "Grumpy today, are we?"

You couldn't help but smile at the goofy grin on her face. "Only when you start yellin' for me even though we're not gonna be late."

The two of you slipped into the car, listening to the radio in an unusual silence.

"You alright there, baby?" your mum asked, glancing over at you where your hands were shaking in your hoodie pocket. "You're quiet today."

"Yeah, I'm good," you dismissed her concerns, twiddling your thumbs under the cover of your comfortable top. "When do you leave for the next Matildas camp?"

The question caught her off guard, making her forget about her previous statement. "In two weeks. You're on the roster, silly."

"Oh," you giggled sheepishly. "I forgot."

The rest of the drive was uneventful, though your mum did take offense to you jumping out of the car before she finished parking once you arrived at training. "Oi! Where you goin'?!"

"To find Hempo!" You yelled back, sprinting into the building to find your best mate at Man City. "She's fun!"

You could practically feel the offense radiating off your mum. "And I'm not?!"

"Eh."

"You cheeky little—"

"Hiii, Hempo!" You jumped on the older girl's back in excitement as she made her way to the changing room, a shit-eating grin on your face as she grunted from the sudden weight.

"Hiii, Y/N," the forward mocked, pushing the door open and carrying you into the room where some of the girls were already gathered. "How are you?"

"I'm good!" You chirped, jumping off of Lauren's back and somersaulting on the floor.

Your teammates paid you no mind, simply thinking you had a bit of extra energy. But as the day went on, you became more hyper and more restless.

"RAHHH!" you screeched, sprinting at Laia. "TIM TAMS!"

A hand snatched the back of your jersey, causing you to jerk back.

"Y/N," Steph scolded. "Calm down."

You grunted, hiding your ever-twitching fingers behind your back. "You and Mum are so boring."

"Her fingers are wiggling." Leila deadpanned.

You spun around, annoyed. "Shut up, Leila!"

Steph tutted disapprovingly. "I think someone didn't take their meds this morning."

Luckily, the whistle blew as the trainers called for a scrimmage, saving you from any further investigation.

Steph opened her mouth to say more, but you ran off to your position and clapped for the game to start. The skipper just shook her head, amused. She'd bring it up to your mum later.

-------------------

It hadn't even been ten minutes. To Steph's defense, you had been much calmer before the scrimmage, but you and Hempo were on opposite teams and your will to beat her only fueled your uncontainable energy.

"WAAAAAHAAAHA!" you yelled, sprinting down the field. "I'M A GONNA WIN!"

"Woahhh, slow down, Waluigi," Chloe reached out to grab you, but you just dodged her hold and continued your charge towards the ball. "Alex! Grab the kid!"

The Brit tried in vain to snatch you by the collar, but you only shook free and shrieked, "SHE'S A RUNNER SHE'S A TRACKSTAAAAR!"

Lauren screamed as you chased after her, leaving the ball abandoned in a futile attempt to shake you off. "WHERE'S ALANNA?! WHERE'S ALANNA?!"

"Seeing the physio," Demi said. "For her ankle."

Lauren screamed again, running like her life depended on it (it did). "GO GET HER! GO GET HER!"

"ARARARARARARARARARUFF!" you barked, your ADHD taking total control of your limbs and vocal cords. "AIAIAIAIAIAIAIAAIAIAIAI!"

Lauren jumped onto Sandy's back, scrambling away from you in a panic. "HELP ME YOU SHITS!"

"Hey, hey, hey," your mum rushed towards you before you could react, arms wrapping around you and holding you in place. "What's the matter, baby? What's going on?"

Your head whipped to the side. "Boomerang!"

She smiled at you worriedly, waddling off to the sidelines with you trapped firmly in her hold. "Yeah, kiddo. You're exactly like a boomerang, flying all over the place."

Steph jogged over as you babbled nonsensically, eyes meeting your mum's. "She didn't take her meds this morning. She was acting like this earlier, and she hasn't had any sugar."

"Aww, kiddo," your mum ran her fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Why didn't take your meds? You know they're important."

Something in your brain briefly turned off the hyperactivity long enough for you to hear the slight disappointment in her voice. "I- I ran out."

"You've gotta tell me before that happens, sweetheart," she murmured, rubbing your temples. "You scared the hell out of Hempo today."

You buried your face into your shoulder, suddenly tired from your rampage. "'m sorry, mum."

"It's okay, kiddo," she assured, suddenly smirking. "It was hilarious."

#Manchester city wfc x reader #Alanna Kennedy x Reader #Woso x reader #Steph Houghton #Esme Morgan #Lauren Hemp #Manchester City wfc #Alanna Kennedy #demi stokes

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 4 months

Text

corrupt!Satoru refuses to let go of his little sorcerer girlfriend when he becomes a vessel: Sure things have changed a bit.. Okay, a fucking lot. He's been put on a temporary leave by Yuji and the others till they can figure out a reverse. Which unfortunately for you means he's got all that time in the world to focus on your guy's relationship. "Y/n!" The unanticipated shout of your name almost makes you jump out your fuckin skin, quickly scarfing down a scolding hot piece of bacon so you don't choke. Dammit, you thought you could enjoy a nibble of breakfast before having to appease your master boyfriend. You pray to any God with a heart that Satoru wasn't too pissed at you for not being by his side when he awoke. From the goosebumps creeping down your neck and eerily sudden silence surrounding you, it's an obvious useless hopeless wish. "Why the fuck weren't you next to me when I woke up? Did I not say havin you by my side at all time keeps me from becoming.. Murderous?" The sudden presence and growled query compels you to spin around, starin up at him with wide frightened eyes. He's shirtless, gazing back with an unreadable expression as his magnificent morning wood bulges obscenely. "T-toru, I -" His hand damn near teleports to hold you firm around your slender brown neck. "Know what? I don't really feel like hearin whatever pathetic excuse is about to fall from those cute lips, baby. On your knees." He tells you, pushin you down with one hand while pullin his dick from his dark grey joggers with the other. You comply, eyes teary at how he glares down at you menacingly. "Better not disappoint me twice this morning, y/n. No tellin what I might do.." He warns, head falling back as he slips his dick into your mouth with a sinister smile on his pretty face.

corrupt!Gojo monitors the fuck outta who you talk to and where you go: If he can't have you near him 24/7, he NEEDS to know 1. Where you're goin; 2. Who's gonna be there; and 3. When the fuck you're comin home to him. "You're late. Fuck are you, little girl?" You're never gonna get used to the snarl that consistently stains his tone, even when he's not irritated. You're late coming back from what was supposed to be research on a curse, so Satoru calls you. "Just by a few minutes. I'll be there soon." You assure him, pullin your cell from your cheek briefly to check the time. "I didn't ask how late you are; I asked where you were." You don't waste a second droppin a pin. There's a bit of shuffling over the phone before he speaks again. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Stay where you are. Better be alone like you said, y/n." The line clicks dead as you heave a heavy sigh, makin sure not move an inch till you see Satoru pull up.

corrupt!Satoru doesn't do well with anyone besides himself being mean to you: Slamming your front door shut upon entering, you stomp towards your bedroom as tears of frustration leak from your eyes. You don't make it past the couch in the living room before Satoru's sittin down on it, perching you in his lap. "Who fuckin did it, baby? Huh? Tell me! I'll rip their fuckin head off." His gruesome words don't match the soft imploring look in his piercing eyes; you miss that look so much that the truth spills from your lips without a thought. "I thought I'd make it to Grade 2 today.. It didn't happen. They brought in someone new. Some jerk that failed me cause I wouldn't let him touch me." Your hands slap over your mouth, the last sentence accidentally comin out before you can think. That unreadable expression graces his features before you end up face down in the couch, panties swiftly pulled to your thighs as he eats your poor unsuspecting lil puss from the back. "What the fuuuuuck? Toru, ah! S-satoru, wait. Please just- ohmyGod!" Ofcourse he ignores you. Slurps ya cunt so good that you cum in under a minute. Only then do you get a response. "Get the fuck up. We're goin back up there. Gonna have a lil chat with Mr. New Guy." He commands you, landing one more lick up your slit and a harsh slap to your ass. You leveled up that day. And Mr. New Guy was gone by the next. Yuji and the others don't bother standing in Satoru's way.

corrupt!Satoru loves marking your body and staking his claim: He doesn't think a day should pass before he's adding a new one to the collection. So he corners you when you're in the kitchen doin the dishes. "Hey gorgeous. Wanna make you cum real quick.." He mumbles, pressin up behind you. His hard cock humps your backside slow and firm as he fingers you through your itty bitty shorts. The first swipe has you poppin your ass back on his dick, keening Satoru's name like a fuckin banshee. "That the spot, princess? Yeah it is.. Know all your spots. Just like Daddy should, huh?" His tone is so cocky but you know better than to disagree and nod to his question anyway. "Yeeees, only you can make me feel like this. Always make me feel so goood, Toru." He soaks in your praise and at this point it's a givin that you've completely abandoned your task. A damp hand slides to the back of his head for a handful of his soft snowy locks as he nips and sucks at your neck. His sensual lips are one of your weaknesses; never fail to make you whimper like a bitch in heat. "Satoruuuuu.. Daddy please. Want some dick.." He chuckles at you, wonderin if you can even handle it- not like that would stop him. Still, your knees are already so you weak he has to hold you up, arms slung around your waist to plaster your back to his front. "Fuck baby, so pretty when you beg for my cock. Look even prettier when you let me claim you like this." Fine, he'll give you what you want. But first.. He pulls his lengthy dick out, your small shorts down, and slips it between your plushy brown ass cheeks. Your boyfriend's eyes nearly cross at the tight warm hold of you. Satoru pants and huffs, quickly starting off with short strokes that numb his mind. "I'm gonna fuck this perfect fat ass one day, y/n. Thats right, and you're not gonna be able to stop me. You can beg and cry and scream all you want.. Mmmfuck- but Daddy's not gonna listen, baby. Not one bit. I'm gonna keep goin till you squirt all over me from the feelin of it." Precum assists him slidin back and forth with ease, but his filthy words aid the throbbing in your clit and flutter in your gushy cunt. You only moan back in response to his dirty admission. Its okay. Satoru knows you always get like this: speechless when you're about to cum. Goddamn you turn him on so fuckin much. He bites at the sensitive spot on your throat, locking his teeth and groaning like a wild man. It makes you clench around his dick, him in turn pressin his digits with an accuracy that forces you to cum so good. "Good fuckin giiiirl, baby! So proud of you. Takin my mark and cummin on my hand- fuuuuuck. I own you, princess." Your quick wordless whines spur him on, fingers still yanking his hair viciously as your arousal spills to the kitchen floor. The sting of the pull has Satoru howling while he cums buckets in you. He's licking messily at the fresh bite on your neck as he smears his nut all over your plump ass. Fuck, you always make him buss so fuckin so hard! He's breathing fast, eyes flickin between where he paints you, your new bite mark and how fucked out you look even though you haven't had his dick yet. Speaking of, why the hell is he still so goddamn rigid? But you.. "You're so fuckin wet.." Satoru spears you on his cock without a second thought, your loud stunned cry makin a warmth shoot up his spine. He doesn't know when your hand joined the other in his hair, just cherishes how tight you grip at him when he fucks the rest of his cock into you. Appreciates and adores any and everything you have to offer. 'Shit.. Guess its time to put a baby in you.' Satoru thinks as he holds you round your waist and drills your lil puss as you shout out in surprised pleasure. Christ, he loves you so fuckin much and he's never letting you go.

corrupt!Satoru In layman's terms: He shows you that he is very fuckin possesive and owns you in every conceivable way.

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Note

blurb req for Georgia stanway if you write for her. Reader going with the team to Australia as staff maybe like a student physio or a photographer or something. Georgia has had a crush on teaser for some time now but refuses to do anything about it because she thinks you’re straight and dating someone else on the staffing team (spoiler: you’re not)

behind the camera II g.stanway

"alright alright i'm comin jesus keira!" georgia groaned as her best friend knocked on the bathroom door for the tenth time, threatening to leave without her.

"we're in australia ke, it's been a beautiful sunny day and we're going to the beach to watch the sunset. why are ya so moody?" the younger girl teased her friend as she finally exited the bathroom, squeezing her cheeks and grabbing her camera off the bed.

"you better have washed your hands." keira grumbled, the two of them leaving the room and catching up with the rest of the group who hung around waiting in the lobby. "what did ya fall in g?" lucy teased as keira blamed her for their late timing.

"shove off." georgia grinned, pushing the taller girl away who attempted to pull her into a headlock before running off after jordan. "ah look your girlfriends coming too." keira mumbled quietly from beside the blonde whose head shot up at her words, seeing you laughing with alex and mary a few pairs in front of them.

"would you stop? she's not my girlfriend and she's straight anyway." georgia huffed, rolling her eyes and busying herself messing around with the settings on her camera readying for the change in light.

"whose straight?" ella barged her way inbetween the two, slinging an arm over georgias shoulder as keira dropped back a little to chat with alessia. "little miss media, georgias had googly eyes at her for weeks now!" keira teased as the younger of the two glanced over her shoulder to send her a pointed glare.

"y/n?" alessia asked as georgia sighed but nodded. "oh g that's so cuute!" ella beamed, pinching her cheek tightly and running off before her friend could pounce on her. "not to assume anyones sexuality but how do we know she's straight?" alessia asked calmly with a raised eyebrow as their feet hit the sand, several of the girls running off towards the water for a swim.

"well she's dating mateo." georgia explained, nodding toward you who was stood with the second string trainer and mary, watching some of the girls attempt to get on one anothers shoulders with an amused smile.

"mateo? are you sure they're together?" alessias frown deepened, folding her arms over her chest and watching the pair off in the distance with scrutiny. "well they're always together, and they go out for coffee most mornings, and for a run like every afternoon, and they always sit together at dinner." georgia defended, missing the look shared between the girls stood either side of her.

"well you sure know her schedule back to front." keira chuckled, watching on as georgia merely hummed, only half listening as she watched mateo try to lift you onto his own shoulders as you threw your head back, your laugh echoing around the beach as georgias face dropped like a kicked puppy.

"g you're only speculating all of this. why don't you just talk to her about it?" alessia asked softly, bumping her shoulder into her friends to gain her attention, ripping her eyes away from you. "cause she'll think i'm a creep!" georgia scoffed, shaking her head and walking off with her camera in hand toward the rest of the group.

"so it's just her that doesn't know mateo has a wife and kids right? and that y/n obviously has something for her." keira sighed, alessia mhming in agreement as the pair watched you notice georgia join the group, immediately excusing yourself from your conversation with mary and mateo and making a beeline right for her.

"god she's thick sometimes." "the daftest girl we know."

"coming for my job are we stanway?" you grinned as georgia pulled her eye away from the lense, face brightening when she saw it was you. "figured i'd best have a backup if this whole football thing doesn't work out. if you can do it mustn't be that hard!" georgia teased as you playfully punched her in the shoulder and sat down beside her in the sand.

"go on then, give us a smile!" you shook your head and pushed her camera away as she aimed the lense at you. "no thank you! this face stays behind the camera." you shook your head as georgia protested and instead took several pictures of you laughing from the side.

"not up for a swim then? i think you'd look dead good in some goggles." you grinned nodding toward tooney, rachel and niamh who were all splashing around with the ridiculous head wear. "and let you capture that and put it on the internet for everyone to see? no chance!" the girl firmly disagreed with a grin.

"hey do you see my cameras anywhere? they banned me from bringing them, something about a work life balance? enjoying my time in another country?" you feigned confusion, stroking thoughtfully at your chin.

"sounds like you're slacking on the job to me, might have to dob you into sarina for the laziness you know." georgia shrugged with a sigh as you smacked at her shoulder, grabbing the camera from where it sat in her lap.

"do you even know how to work this? i know they send monkeys to space now but i didn't think they trained them to use cameras." you teased as now georgia smacked you and snatched the camera back, snapping another few candid pictures of you.

"do you and mateo have anything planned while you're here?" georgia took advantage of a comfortable pause of silence between the two of you to ask, remembering alessia's words and decided to just swallow the anxiety that came with them.

"uh, just working? i guess." you gave her an odd look at the question. "why?" you asked curiously, unsure where it had came from. "dunno, couples normally do stuff together on holidays." georgia shrugged, refusing to meet your eye as she looked off into the distance.

but her head snapped toward you when she heard the distinctive boom of laughter, seeing you doubled over and holding your stomach, georgias features creasing into a frown.

"whats so funny, they do!" "you think mateo and i are a couple?" "well...yeah." "oh god gee i knew you could be slow but i tried to give you a little more credit than this!" "what are you on about? i'm not slow!"

"mateo has a wife and three kids, they were literally there for the goodbye party at st georges park!" you laughed, your abs aching from the ongoing amusement as georgias face flushed deep red in embarrassment.

"but you're always together! you get coffee, you go for runs, you-" "well yeah, his wife is my sister after all. mateo is my brother in law you dope!" you revealed with a grin, georgias blush deepening as she buried her face in her hands.

"and while we're clearing things up for another thing i'm gay." "you are??" "well...i think i meet all the requirements."

"i've also been trying to flirt with you for weeks." you shook your head with a small smile as georgias head shot up and she looked at you, shock plastered all over her face. "you have??"

"clearly not been doing a good job of it if you hadn't picked up by now." it was now your turn to blush, chinks tinting a rosy pink at the confession. "-but now i know you thought i was dating my brother in law it makes a lot more sense." you smiled, georgia groaning and burying her face in her hands again.

"you know mary and millie even gave me an intervention, warned if i didn't start taking more content of the rest of the team and not just you i'd be sacked!" you grinned teasingly.

"can we start over?" the blonde beside you asked hopefully, giving you a charming smile as you shook your head. "afraid not, just can't forget that you thought i was dating my brother in law."

"alright alright! you can stop saying it now." georgia moaned with a pout as you smiled and knocked your shoulder gently into hers, another pause of silence falling between the two of you.

"so...i should ask you out then?" "well i was patiently waiting." "oh shut up. would you like to get breakfast tomorrow?" "nah sorry, missed your chance." you grinned cheekily, snatching her camera and snapping a picture of the offended look which overtook her face.

"breakfast sounds good, your shout since you thought i was dating my brother in-" "okay! we get it, how many times do i need to say im sorry?" "i actually don't think you have at all yet." "well i'm sorry." "sorry for..." "are you really going to make me say it?" "you know suddenly i actually realised i don't like breakfast-" "fine! sorry for thinking you were dating mateo." "who is...my brother in law."

"stop saying it! how many more times are ya gonna say it?" georgia huffed with a frown which only made your amusement grow, kissing her cheek as her expression perked up.

"how many girls are on the team? twenty two? twenty three?" "twenty three." "well then i'll be saying it twenty three more times." "don't you dare!"

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #georgia stanway x reader #georgia stanway

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cheerrioeoz · 10 months

Text

Reborn of us

(Ex husband!Miguel x Mother!Reader)

(Summary : Years pass , the thought of your ex husband in the back of your mind as you focused on your little girl. Though what happens when he catches wind of this?)

TW : Mentions of death,OOC Miguel,half fluff and half angst

Part 1 here

" Mijà! Hurry and come down,or else I'm not taking you to practice!"

Your seven year old daughter,(y/c/n) has been the centre of your world ever since she was born. She resembled him so much. From the brown curls she adorned to the slight sharpness of her teeth ,yet she still managed to make you love her despite the familiarity of the man you once loved etched into her face. It was the motivation to take care of your sweet daughter that brought you to where you are now,and the nights you spent working countless jobs just to make a living for the both of you had all paid off now that you were living comfortably in the coziness of your home.

" 'm comin mami!"

(y/c/n) came sliding down the stairs railings,already wearing her white jacket and her red belt tied around her waist messily. Her every step towards you was full of excitement,her face practically glowing as she dragged you by your hand and showing off her toothy smile

" Hurry mami! we're gonna miss the bus! "

" I was thinking of taking a nice walk,we can see the dogs at the park along the way"

That was enough to make your daughter lose it as she attempted to body slam the front door.

--------

"Heyyyy bossman!" One of the spider people yelled as they sent him finger guns,although their attempt to lighten up his mood was a complete failure as Miguel had sent a sharp glare that sent knives towards the poor spider.

" Calláte,what do you want?" Miguel had grew to become explosive with his temper ever since the night you left him and rightfully so,but it didn't mean it didn't leave a scar in his heart. Usually it would be your hands running through his hair,stroking his cheek with your gentle hands,your ever soft voice soothing him and assuring him you were there for him. That you were his,that he was yours,that you were -

The spider person's annoying laugh had snapped him out of his thoughts about you, resulting in a deep scowl until his ears listened intently to what they said next.

"Earth-2602's got an anomaly,was wonderin' if me and Ben could check it out -"" Who's the spiderman there?"

His heart was pounding,was she still the woman he knew ?

" Nah I don't know 'bout that, accordin' ta your weird ai the spiderwoman there isn't of age yet,still a kid "

Miguel knew it was wrong,he was absolutely wrong to try and see you again. But the thought of seeing you again sent him in a frenzy,he longed for you ever since the divorce and god did he regret his decision of going to a universe where his dead wife and child was alive,all for it to end a mess as they both died again. He should've been grieving,dying alone again but...he didn't feel that way again,instead the feeling of losing you was much worse than their deaths -

They simply didn't matter to him anymore,not like how you mattered to him. His dead wife's death didn't effect him at all. The day they died he just stared,as if they were strangers,and they are. He knew they were strangers to him when he felt uncomfortable drinking the bitter coffee his dead wife brewed,the type he thought suited his taste better compared to the cream and sugar you would add to his. Unlike you,you were his salvation when he was lost,his home to run to after a day of working,his to call has his own after being alone for so long. But he knew he scarred you too deep for you to even love him again without forgetting his infidelity.

"- So can Ben and me go check it out?"

Miguel turned around , his face an unreadable expression

" I'll go instead. "

---------

You were strolling through the park with your sweet daughter,her little hand in yours because she kept running away to play with the ants. At this exact moment,you felt almost complete. Your little girl was growing to become her own person,your job was stable and you were able to provide for the both of you and your little family of two was all you could've asked for.

Except the thought of her father lingered back to your mind,you couldn't lie,he was a bastard for not being able to be upfront with his feelings but apart of you that still loved him sympathized for him and kept defending him with " he has unresolved problems,that's probably it " or " it was probably because he didn't need me " but those thoughts would always lead you to feeling down,and you weren't good with hiding your sadness,so you'd often hide yourself from your daughter until you calmed down because you didn't want her to grow up with the mindset that it was her fault you and Miguel split.

" Baby,do you wanna play with the other kids? Your practice doesn't start until 2 hours"

Your daughter jumped at that and giggled, messily throwing off her taekwondo suit and handing it to you as she ran her little legs to the sandbox.

You watched her play with other kids,and you can't help but forget about the thought of Miguel when your little girl was infront of you,beaming with joy as she made what appeared to be a sandcastle with the playground kids. After some time,you look up from the sandbox to see a portal - wait,portal?

Your heart dropped at who you saw came out of it.

----------

TAG LIST

@brooklynscherry-z @d1lf-loverrr

(Comment if you wanna be tagged for part 3 <3)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #atsv spoilers #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #father!miguel ohara #angst #parent!reader

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yeeterthek33per · 4 months

Text

Surprise (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n Jeez sorry guys, welcome back to me ay? Anyways, here's the first of many requests, I'm getting back into it, I swear.

Requested.

Warnings/summary: Fluff. Harper Gorry. Itty Bitty Bit suggestive at the end.

You swear, your arms feel like they might pop any second.

It would make sense if you were doing a workout, but it turns out dragging around a 15kg toddler all day is basically the same thing.

With your wife Katrina running around to do assigned media duties before the game tomorrow, you'd been left in charge of little Harper before her family came to get her for the night so you both could get an adequate amount of sleep for once.

There's a little squeal as you swing the small blonde girl up into onto your hip when she tries to make a break for the open doorway that leads onto the pavement outside.

"Mama noooo!"

"Mama yes! No running off like that baby. We stay together while we go out. You know that."

The small pout from her lips reminds you very much of her other mother as you tickle her slightly to elicit a small giggle.

"We goin to get ice cweem?"

You chuckle softly, running your fingers through her blonde locks.

"Yeah, we're getting some ice cream after we have a little walk alright?"

"Chacha coming?"

"Yes Hun, Chacha’s comin', we just gotta wait for her to come down so we can go."

Harper seemingly accepts that, leaning back fully into your hold to sit and play with the small silver necklace you have on, with your wife's and Harper's initials as the pendants.

It takes a very long five minutes as Charlie finally gets off the elevator ready to go, the little blonde in your arms getting much more fidgety as you stand and wait.

"Chacha!"

"Took you long enough, come on!"

She rolls her eyes before turning to the tiny girl you're holding and snatches her up to ride on her shoulders, your biceps screaming in relief finally.

Any other day of the week, you'd be used to it but after the intense gym session the day before, you weren't sure your arms wouldn't have fallen off by the end of today without your younger compatriot to take the younger version of herself off your hands.

The groan of relief you let out as she does so, has her laughing.

"Stop complaining, she's your kid, you should be used to this by now."

"Hush you, gym sessions and wandering toddlers don't mix, now let's go before we run out of time."

"Why are we out here again? It's supposed to be rest day today."

The bright, sunny warmth of the day is nothing compared to the day previous, leaving you feeling a little relieved at not having to deal with 27 odd degree temperatures and an impatient two-year-old.

"We're out here because I need one more thing for tomorrow and I just needed someone to give me an excuse to leave the hotel.

"Why do you need my help? You've known Mini longer. You're literally married to her."

"I know but it's our first game together as a married couple and I want it to be super special for her."

"Alright alright, so what are we picking out again?"

"It's a surprise for the game. I asked the uniformers if I could tweak my jersey a little."

"Okay? What does that have to do with- wait..."

She pauses a little, her hand coming up and making the stop motion.

"You're changing it to Gorry?"

Her eyes water a little as a massive grin stretches across your face with a chuckle and you nod.

Charlie bounces a little in excitement, the squeal she lets out startling the child on her shoulders.

"Is this an official name change?"

You hum in the affirmative, steadying the blonde as she bounces into you, careful not to let Harper fall from her perch.

"It's been a thought for a long while, we talked about it, but we never confirmed whether or not I'd change my name. She definitely wants to keep Gorry, though."

"So why are we going shopping then?"

"Because I'm going out to pick up a preorder I made a couple weeks ago, it was supposed to be a wedding gift when we got married here but they couldn’t get it finished in time so I settled for the specialised necklaces and just made these the World Cup gift instead."

"So, what's the preorder then?"

"You'll see. Wait here"

You playfully wink and duck into the jewellery store to your left, right as she asks the question.

Returning just a few minutes later, bag in hand.

"Alright, let's go."

Charlie looks at you expectantly.

"You're not gonna show me?"

"Later. Harps, what do you say sweety, ice cream time?"

The toddler jumps up and down in her spot upon the older girl’s shoulders.

"Yes pleeeeease!"

Humming in contentment, you drag her down the street to a cold rock ice creamery, much to the protest of the twenty-two-year-old.

-------------------

A loud grumble from the blonde laid across your bed makes you glance up from your spot at the desk with a chuckle.

"At least one little peak, come on Y/n/n. Pleeeeease? You dragged me all the way out to go get it. It's the least you could do."

You'd swear she was in fact Harper's older sister with the way she was giving you the puppy dog eyes.

"You can't wait for tomorrow to see it? Like everyone else?"

"No".

She deadpans and perches herself onto the desk next to where you're signing out papers to send off to the registry that you got married under.

'Alright alright alright. Pass me the bag. I need to hide the box anyways."

There's a small smile as you open up the ring box again, and it reminds you heavily of the ring box Katrina had so smoothly removed from her satchel at the beach the day you'd gotten engaged.

The mid thickness silver band shines under the small white desk lamp, the curved engravings on the underside of it glimmering as you carefully hand it to the blonde who's expression melts at the sight of it.

The little inscription of "our kind of love is the best kind. - (Y)G" and the little football symbol on the bottom matches perfectly with the style of writing.

"It matches our wedding rings. I'll give it to her to her tomorrow after the game."

"She's gonna love it. I love it. God, can you get me one?"

Rolling your eyes at her, you chuckle softly as she slips the ring back into the box and you tuck it away into safe corner of the room until it's needed.

"I'll be sure to let Lachlan know."

She smiles softly at the mention of her boyfriend before a small inquizzacal look appears on her face.

"So, how's this gonna pan out without her noticing again?"

"Well...."

-------------------

Stepping down and off the bus, there's a nervousness in the air, not like the usual national games hold. You'd been to major tournaments before, hell you were in France for the 2019 world cup but there's nothing like the feeling you get now.

Walking into a home stadium, in your home uniform at a home world cup, and awaiting you is the eighty thousand strong crowd, the hopefully perfect condition pitch and your bouncing blonde toddler with her grandmother in the stands.

It's a feeling out of this world.

And it gets better knowing what's waiting for Katrina as well.

Not just a chance at redemption from the last World Cup.

Not just her sweet little harper, cheering and yelling for her mommy and her teammates the moment they step onto the pitch.

A hand on your shoulder jolts you a little, you'd paused in front of your cubby after hearing the ever so faint cheers of the crowd above the entrance to the player area.

"You alright?"

Your wife’s comforting hand gently squeezes your arm as you nod, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Feelin’ great, baby.”

Resting your hand on hers, you caress it with your thumb softly before gently nudging her back to her own cubby to get ready for pitch inspection.

Subtly making eye contact with the trainer across the room, you give him a nod as he slips away to grab the jersey, he’d made ready in time for the game.

Slipping on your training jersey, you duck out onto the pitch before warmups are due to start.

You end up making it quicker than usual in order to slip out to meet the trainer to grab your actual jersey which you leave in your cubby away from sight.

Waving to the already numerous fans in the stadium, you make your rounds of the pitch to get a proper feel of it, and when Sam spots herself on the big screen managing to sneak a selfie, you and your teammates are left chuckling.

Warmups go smoothly, and the atmosphere and tremendous crowd are both buzzing with enormous amounts of energy.

Breathing in the cool night air, your shots feel a little shaky in the leadup, but they quickly relax as you settle in amongst the encouragement and atsmosphere of your teammates.

Despite the devastation at finding out Sam won’t be playing for at least three games, the determination sets in hard and the moment you are all called back to the changerooms, a hardness sets about you and everything in your head calms in the moment, ready to get out there and play like it’s any other game, trying to ignore the already enormous amount of pressure on your shoulders.

Tony gives a quick speech before sending you all off to line up ready for the walkout.

The team are still in their training jackets when you walk out and it’s only when you slip off yours, and place it over the shoulders of the mascot in front of you after the national anthems, that she finally notices.

You’re number 24 while Katrina is number 19 so she isn’t directly next to you to see it, however a close up of your back on the big screen catches her attention when she realises it isn’t her number attached to the last name and she leans forward to catch your eye as you all move to huddle.

Winking at her, you smile and move stand next to her, arm slipping around her shoulders as Sam and Tony do the final send off.

The double take of a few of your teammates makes you laugh, and you press a kiss to your wife’s cheek with a small ‘Surprise.’ Spoken in her ear.

She grabs your face before you can go anywhere.

“Not so fast you.”

There’s a small hum of appreciation when she presses her lips to yours in a brief kiss and her eyes water a little up at you.

“I love you so much, Mrs L/n.”

“It’s Gorry now, baby.”

Her smile widens and right as you go to kiss her once more, a slap to the back startles you.

It’s a grinning Sam who urges you over to the rest of your waiting team who’ve been watching you both with amusement visibly plastered on all of their faces.

"Let’s do this, pretty girl."

With that, you feel more than ready to start this thing.

-------------------

The first thing you feel the moment you're off the bus is Katrina's hand dragging you back inside the hotel and up the stairs, far too impatient to wait for the elevator to come down.

The moment you're both up the six flights of stairs, despite the immense exhaustion you're both exhibiting after the battle against Ireland, there's a giddiness in both of your steps and she quickly drags you into your room with the swipe of your keycard.

The soft giggle that leaves your lips the moment you're pressed back against the door makes her grin and her hands slipping under the hem of your hoodie leave shivers behind as you think back to the look she'd given you from the left of you across the locker room.

Full of love and adoration and a little hint of desire as they move to the name across your back.

Mouthing those three words you know sends warmth to her chest every time she hears them, she mouths them back with a small grin.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #katrina gorry x reader #katrina gorry imagine #katrina gorry imagines #harper gorry x reader platonic

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munsster · 1 year

Note

hi! could u please do smut on billy hargrove where the reader and him are very close friends and she wants him to take her virginity please 🥰🫣

nightingale

A/N: sometimes all u need is a very attractive close friend to take your virginity (gif cred: @julie-thefatones) IT ENDS SO CHEESY. DONT BOTHER ME

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary: Billy can’t resist when you beg him to take your virginity. 2.5k words.

Warnings: smut, mdni, 18+, billy hargrove, mild slut shaming, virginity/loss of virginity, possessiveness/jealousy, pet names (doll, babydoll), cursing, sex talk!teasing, fingers in mouths, gagging, discussion of his penis

In all honesty, Billy didn't think you were a virgin. He wouldn't have bet a cent on it. Not that he thought you were a slut or especially promiscuous or anything like that. He just figured you'd done it before. You're self-assured as Hell, and that's typically not a characteristic of someone who's never fucked or been fucked. At least, not in his experience. And Lord knows he's got plenty of it. So, in all honesty, when you beg him to take your virginity, it comes as a surprise.

"I'm sorry—what?"

So much of a surprise that it rouses a hearty laugh from the thick of his chest. It doesn't register that that 'please' was as genuine and whiny as a bitch in heat. It doesn't register that you've got your palms wrapped around his wrists and that you frown at his patronizing sense of humor.

"Well, if you don't want to, I'll find someone else to do it."

"No," and that contemptuous laughter stops hard in its tracks, "Never said I wouldn't do it." Because—and he'd die before admitting it, but—the thought of your legs wrapped around someone else's waist, your nails raking down someone else's back makes him physically ill. You're his girl. Have been since the day you pitched a dead-on fastball to the Hawkins dunk tank target just to see him flounder into the shallow pool.

Billy crosses his arms over his chest, still trying to swallow the fact that he would be the first one to ever lay hands on you like that and to that degree. He sizes you up with those steely blues just to make you feel small. But it doesn't work; it never works on you. Hence the whole virgin debacle. It's gotta be celibacy, right? There's no way you've never done it. Sure, you're a pain in the ass, but who doesn't love a good lookin' challenge?

Your eyes light up, and you're back to bouncing onto the balls of your feet—"So you'll do it? You'll fuck me?"

"Jesus Christ, sounds so vulgar comin' outta your mouth."

"Yeah, yeah, but you'll do it, right?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever. I'll do it."

"'Whatever.' You can say no—"

"Yeah, and I suggest you zip it before I leave you to some pervert with sweaty hands and a fuckin' combover," he grumbles, and you know he's joking, but you also know Billy's mean enough to mean it. You stick your tongue out at him and grin when he copies you and all is right with the world. Except for the fact that you're walking around with your virginity in tact.

"So what, you want me to take you out to dinner first or somethin'?

"Nah, nah, just... yunno... the dirty work—"

He shakes his head. "Alright—"

"Lay it on me, Billy, gimme that weak-in-the-knees treatment—"

"You're so fuckin' weird."

"I can't hear you, Billy Hargrove's gonna pop my cherry—"

"Gross." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, scraping his boots along the concrete towards his car, ignoring the annoyed looks from a what looks like a group of sophomore girls.

"Wait—!" You jog a few feet in front of him and stop him before he can reach for the shiny silver door handle. His cold eyes swoop across your cheek with a determined flicker in them that contests your own. "Gonna ask me when I'm free?"

He scoffs. "When are you free?"

"I dunno—"

"I don't think I've ever worked this hard for a piece of ass—"

"Shh! Just... would you play along? We're literally discussing the well-being of my sex life here," you jab, dramatic as ever leaning back against his car door with your arms crossed and your brows raised.

"Fine," he huffs, "How 'bout I swing by around... seven? The sun'll be set, and—"

"That sounds perfect. I'll see you at eight!"

You flit away with a grin, seemingly satisfied to have secured one more part of your future. Meanwhile, Billy's ducking into his car, flipping his zippo open-shut-open-shut compulsively to distract himself. Heart racing a mile a minute like he's the one with the pretty laugh and the soft hands and the virginity. How the Hell are you still a virgin?

Billy sat outside your house in his Camaro for half an hour, too stressed to smoke but too eager to go back home and take it out on some dumbbells. By the time he makes it to your front door, he's dripping sweat like he's fresh off the racetrack, and you ask him if he's okay like you care. Like he's here for anything more than a quick fuck.

He waits in his boxers for you to change in the bathroom, standing at the end of your bed and glancing over all of your posters. And the unlit candle on your desk. And the stacks of books in the corner. The trinkets and jewelry and stuffed animals and personality. The sun sinks lower and lower until the room is dark blue, the only source of indoor light a small, warm bulb plugged into the wall socket.

You come up behind him and scare him half to death with a cold hand on his shoulder. Only cold because he's overheating because he's in your bedroom because he's about to do the thing he's drooled and schemed over since the first time he saw you in a bikini.

"Don't go tellin' people about this, alright? Could be bad for business."

"Okay."

You're standing in front of him, batting your eyelashes in the dark, settling into the floor wearing little to nothing. Just a thin white bra and old panties. And for the first time, you seem small. Like you're trying to shrink in on yourself. And his nerves dissipate just enough for him to smirk to himself. He never thought he'd be able to make you nervous. That's one less bullet on his bucket list.

He can see your catty eyes flicking across the bare expanse of his chest like a bowl of warm milk. Like you'd dip your tongue in and lap at his ivory surface until the dish was clean. For the first time, he feels exposed. And he thinks he'd like to get used to it.

He also never thought your silence would fill him with such unease. You shift weight from right to left slowly, breathing deep and chewing the inside of your cheek. And your entire body goes stiff when he shuffles closer in the darkness.

"Feelin' okay?"

You nod.

"Hmm. One to ten?" he murmurs.

You mull it over and blow a puff of hot air up against your forehead.

"Considering I'm about to have mind-blowing sex, I feel like I should be at a ten."

He cocks a brow. "But?"

"But..."—you wring your palms, nervously feeling over the tendons and knuckles, like you're gauging their existence one more time—"I'm really fuckin' nervous," you huff.

He remembers that feeling. Not because he felt it at the same moment or for the same reason, but because it's the exact way you feel at the crest of a rollercoaster just before you plummet. The weightlessness of your stomach, the way your brain sort of short-circuits regardless of how great it is to fall. It's easy to forget the drop was the whole reason you got in line in the first place.

"No need to be nervous, babydoll. I'll be nice. Won't even bite," he says with a taunting shrug, "Unless you ask me to."

You cast your eyes down and drop your arms to your sides. He tilts his head, desperate for you to look back at him, for you to devour him with a look like that's all he's good for.

"What now?"

You take a deep breath.

"Thing is... I think I'd be okay if you weren't so nice this time around. If that makes sense," you sigh, shoulders slumping just a little further, "Just... treat me like one of your other hookups, you know? I mean, I'm not askin' to be slapped around or anything, but I'm not exactly made of glass."

Billy chuckles and his heart is beating so fast and all he can grumble out is: "I can work with that."

You beam up at him, catching the spark of the nightlight and reaching for his hand. It gives you a golden halo and sheds soft amber across the angles of his face. The slop of his nose and the tops of his cheeks a burnt yellow.

"Ready?" he hums.

You nod. "'M ready."

He dips down with all the sweet intentions in the world, only for you to tilt away. His lips meet your cheek, and even then, you feel the curve of a grin. He presses another to your temple, and you weave your fingers through the wild locks at the back of his head.

His nose nudges the soft shell of your ear as he whispers, "Still want me to take your virginity?"

You nod and he pulls away, curling his fingers into the back of your neck like a mother to its disobedient kitten. You coo and rest both hands on his chest, blinking hard when he grits his teeth into a smile.

"Say it."

"I—Billy," you say, shivering when his pinky brushes along the top of your spine.

"C'mon, don't go all quiet on me now. We're just gettin' started."

"Billy, please, I want—"

"Ah-ah."

"I need—I need you to fuck me, Billy, please take my virginity."

"That's my girl."

My girl, my girl, that's my girl. Billy. It’s only a whisper but it sends you both reeling; only his reeling is gritted teeth and yours is fluttering lashes. Sweet versus sour with his hand patting your hip and your fingertips ghosting over his skin.

"Knees."

"Billy—?"

"On your knees. Won't ask again."

"But I've never—"

"Shh, I know, just... trust me," he whispers. And as you lower to the floor, he realizes it's more than he's asked of anyone. It's more than anyone's offered. He's been violent and unkind—untrustworthy. And that kind of reputation makes people like you untrusting. Except, not people like you. Just people. Not you.

Admiration and lovesickness clouds the logical part of his brain, and in a panic, he slots his fingertips between your soft lips. You hold his wrist when he leers down at you like a cat. He coos softly above you when your tongue wets the pads of his fingers without a word more. If only your mouth was the problem. If only shutting you up would release your talons from his heart. No, you're locked in and you don't even know it yet.

"Billy," you cry, peeling his spit-slick fingers from your mouth and wiping at your cheek when you gag. He's ill over you, filled with thick and sugary warmth, forgetting how hard he is and how close your mouth is to his thighs.

"Sorry. 'M sorry, come to the bed." His thumb swipes across your jaw when you stand and settle into your mattress. Oh, and the way the moonlight washes over you is sinful. The way you're so close to being two bodies in baby blue. Instead of you and Billy and your virginity, you'll be together and defiled. Debauched and unwound.

You can't understand his sudden tenderness when he pushes the crotch of your panties aside and palms at himself. Why he leans down to nip at the soft and wet of your labia. Then glances up at you like heaven.

He rears back when you squeal, shocked at your awkwardness and sensitivity in his hands. And before that, it had felt natural. Like he had wanted to and was urged to. But you'd been none the wiser. And now you're tensing up at his touch simply because he couldn't keep his teeth to himself.

"Feelin' shy?" he says.

You let out a harsh breath that might've been a laugh if you hadn't gripped his shoulder and cooed. "Quit bein' mean, Billy. Skip to the good part."

He chortles and shakes his head, rubbing his thumb around your clit while shuffling out of his boxers.

"The good part, huh?" he huffs. He'd crack another joke if he could—if he wasn't distracted by the desire glistening over his fingers and your supple inner thighs. Wet and tempting especially because it's you.

He feels bad when you hiss but can't help himself from nudging deeper and closer in your tight warmth. You whine and whine about how thick and full and good it feels, and each little mewl beckons him closer until he's pressed to your chest, mindlessly drooling down your neck. If you'd let him, he'd lay this close for hours. With your hand on his neck and holding his waist while he drives his hips against yours.

The way you whisper his name against his ear makes him shudder, drill into you deeper, roll his hips wider. He'd foam at the mouth if it weren't for his ideals. Though, now, even those were slipping from him by the minute.

Love had never crossed his mind before. Maybe if his mother wasn't such a distant memory, it'd be a more prominent factor in his life. Maybe if he had someone to look after. Someone to look after him. Love was never a question of choice before, but now, while you're holding him in your careful arms and peppering kisses like freckles to his cheeks, maybe it could be. He could choose to stay this close forever and promise to be yours. His hard won reputation disintegrates when you lay your fingertips on him.

It all starts to feel a little raw. A little hotter and wetter and harder. Soft collisions turn to thuds, snaps, jolts. To keep him grounded in his ways, to keep him keen and wild. Your mouth hangs open at his cheek, your arms draped over his shoulders. You lie limp in his taut arms like he'll take care of you. Like he has any semblance of bedside manners. The rawness turns to tenderness, and you whine about the searing pain with a hand in his wet curls.

"Burns a little, Billy," you chirp, tilting your head back with a gritted smile.

"Drippin' down my leg, babydoll. Just a little longer," he grumbles. You nod. His back curls almost unnaturally. Animalistic and seemingly impervious, he cracks his hips against yours until the wet slapping fills the room and your headboard threatens to snap from the foundation. Your back arches, and you yelp when he slaps your thigh and groans in your ear.

"Atta girl," he sighs, pulling away and giving a few solid thrusts, as a makeshift goodbye kiss. Still licking his lips, but this time with the marks to show for it. He wears the hot pink from your nails down his back like armor, slowly pulling his soft cock from your cunt and rucking his boxers up to his hips.

"Jesus Christ," you huff, throwing your arms above your head. "You're fucking insane."

"And you're fucking tight. Poor guy's gonna need a couple'a days to recover."

"Oh, boohoo."

Billy slips back into his shirt and winks, "Don't worry, babydoll, he'll be ready for round two in no time.”

"Fuck you."

"Just did."

masterlist

#stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #x fem!reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove smut #stranger things smut #billy hargrove x f!reader #x f!reader #stranger things x fem!reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #18+#mdni

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

I feel like if Vika had a baby she wouldn’t baby talk and have full on conversations with them. Like she’ll tell the baby how whiskey prices went up and how “fucking stupid” it is, or she’ll talk about some new kid at her job and how “the fucker” can’t do anything right LMAO

sugar u r the smartest person i know

men and minors dni

you and everyone who meets the baby talk to her like anybody talks to a baby, cooing and exaggerating and using an exaggerated baby voice.

your typical conversations with your kid for the first year of her life go something like 'awe, do you have a poopy? sweet baby made a big poopy.' or 'can you say: mama? mmmma mmmma?'

sevika, however, talks to your kid like she's an old friend.

you'll catch her feeding your daughter baby food, scooping up the goop that falls down onto her chin as she chats. "fuckin' silco was gettin' on my last nerve today. would you be pissed if we revoked his 'godfather' status? i know he spoils you, but i think we could find a suitable replacement, someone who doesn't have their head stuck up their ass. he thinks he runs the fuckin' place, he forgets we're co-owners. co. that means both. you're so lucky you don't have to work, you know that? you've got it made, kid, shit, you don't even have to feed yourself."

or, after you've had a long day at home with the little fucker, who's been screaming her head off and refusing to latch onto your tits to drink, you overhear sevika talking to her as she gently dances her around the living room. "you gotta give your mom a break, kid. i know you're probably sicka breast milk, but it's important you drink it, it's got all kindsa good shit in it that'll make you strong. like this, see?" she asks as she flexes the arm not holding your daughter. "keep drinkin' your milk and you'll be as strong as me in no time. well, you'll have to have a pretty strict workout regiment too, it's not all genetic. though, don't tell your mom, but i'm glad you've got my build-- she's a little wimp. you're strong like me. she hates it 'cause you came out so big 'n tore her pussy apart comin' out but i think it's great. you'll be a great athlete once you figure out the whole walkin' thing..."

or at bathtime, while she's got your baby in the sink, gently shampooing the two or three hairs on her head, you're guaranteed to find her catching your daughter up on the latest drama on the soap opera she swears she doesn't watch. "i know, it's fuckin' crazy! but, then, get this, molly, the homewrecker from season three? she shows up pregnant, swearing it's travis' kid! mind you, this is all at a funeral-- at shepard's funeral!" your daughter coos. "oh, shepard's the one who came out gay in season four but then decided to marry miriam in season five, because she needed her greencard." your daughter coos again, and sevika takes this as understanding. "right, you remember. anyways this pregnant bitch molly comes marching in while we're all crying because shep's dead, and she's like 'everybody look at me and my big fat belly!' turns out? she's stuffing her stomach with blankets..."

the funniest thing is that your daughter seems to understand it all, blinking up at sevika with big, interested eyes, absorbing her every word, cooing when she's silent, like she's responding to sevika's commentary.

after a while, it starts to rub off on you, and pretty soon, both you and sevika are talking to your little girl like she's an adult.

it's all fun and games until she starts talking, and her first words are 'fuck' and 'mama' and 'dickhead' and 'milk'

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

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

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

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

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

word count: 4.5 k

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

part one here

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

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

What if it's Joel?

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

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

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

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

Tess smiles, nodding. "Of course."

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

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

"Um..."

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

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

You smile up at your friend.

"Okay."

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You cold baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

I should stop.

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

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

He's hard. Hard as a fucking rock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Quit it," Joel snarls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck yeah, Joel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now.

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

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

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

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

"I told you to call me Mister Miller."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut the fuck up."

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

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

You shiver.

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

Sure Joel. Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Joel you still out there?"

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

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

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

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

"Did Sarah and her friend go to bed?"

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

"Okay, night baby."

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

"I kept quiet."

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

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

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

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

"Suck me like a good girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You on the pill?"

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

"Go on and ask, then."

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

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

"Uh huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Mister Miller."

259 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 20 days

Text

La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say.

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you.

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way.

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

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