Tumgik
#he holds her for the first time and then gets that
thef1diary · 3 days
Note
Happy 2k babes! Can you write a small piece of reader being iron deficient and lando just taking care of her? Reminding her to take the pills and stuff
I am totally gonna use his first win as a plot, also this reminded me to take my own pills cuz ya girl is iron deficient
wc: 600+ (omg I can actually write a blurb?!?!)
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work
You've been standing on your feet during almost the entirety of the race, anxiousness overtaking your emotions, rippling through you as he raced lap by lap in first place.
Throughout the podium celebrations, you cheered so loudly to the point where you felt like you would wake up with a sore throat tomorrow morning. You felt lightheaded, and as the celebrations went on, you were reminded of the fact that you had forgotten to take your iron supplements earlier that day. Telling yourself you'll take them later, you returned to Lando's driver room while he completed his media duties.
You heard Lando's footsteps approaching, entering his room covered in sweat and champagne but still holding onto his trophy. You smiled once you saw him smiling, so wide that it could've competed with Daniel's infamous pearly whites. You mustered all your energy to stand up and greet him, but as you rose from your seat, a sudden rush of dizziness swept over you, causing the room to spin.
Lando's quick reflexes caught you just in time, his strong arms wrapping around you to steady your wobbly stance. "Whoa there, easy now," he said, concern etched in his voice.
You leaned against him, grateful for his support. "I'm okay," you insisted, though the lightheadedness refused to dissipate.
As you sank back onto the sofa, feeling defeated by the sudden onset of weakness, Lando's expression softened with understanding. "I think you might have forgotten to take your iron supplements again, haven't you?" he said gently, his tone more statement than question.
You nodded sheepishly, feeling guilty for neglecting your health in the midst of the celebrations. But Lando didn't scold you or chastise you for your oversight.
Without a word, Lando wandered off further into the room, finding your bag and shuffling through it for the bottle of supplements you always carried. He returned, standing in front of you while holding a bottle of water, "here, take this," he said gently, handing you the pill.
As you swallowed it down, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his thoughtfulness.
Once the room stopped spinning and you felt more steady on the couch, Lando helped you up again, this time with more caution. "Let's take it slow, okay?" he said, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he held you close.
You arched up a brow, "says the fastest guy on the track today." His worry dissipated, replaced by a smug grin, "I won."
"Yes you did, baby, I'm so proud of you." You placed a kiss to his cheek, earning a sound of displeasure rumbling from his throat.
"Gimme a proper kiss, I deserve that today, no?" He looked at you with the sweetest smile, but you shook your head, pushing him away playfully. "You stink, go shower first."
He held his hands up, knowing that he was covered in champagne and sweat, "alright, alright, as long as you don't faint out here while I do."
"The faster you shower, the faster you'll get your kiss, Norris," you stated and held in a chuckle when he fumbled over his two feet to get himself in the shower.
When he returned, you curled up on the couch, Lando wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "Don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? I'm always here to help," he whispered.
With those simple words, Lando reminded you that even in the midst of his own triumphs, he would always be there to support you, to lift you up when you were feeling weak, and to remind you of the importance of prioritizing your own well-being. For true victory, he knew, could only be achieved when both of you were standing strong together, side by side.
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @glitterquadricorn
656 notes · View notes
inkdrinkerworld · 3 days
Note
Oh my god post-prison spencer and sunshine!reader is my new favorite 🥹
Can I request how spencer would react if something goes wrong in one of their cases and reader is held hostage/taken? I imagine she would be shaken ofc and spencer would comfort her after
canon level violence, reader has dislocated her shoulder and was concussed while also trying to fight off the feelings that are rapidly developing for spencer, and spencer doesn't give a fuck about her fighting their attraction
“Unlock the door, Y/n.” Spencer’s outside your door, he has been for the last couple of days. You’d been injured in the field, a concussion and a dislocated shoulder that had come from the unsub taking you during what would’ve been his take down. 
You’d been dispatched from the hospital last week after being less than attractive to the doctor who wanted to keep you there for longer. 
You’d answered texts and calls from your co-workers, but you’d been ignoring Spencer. 
“Go away Spencer, you’re supposed to be in Nebraska.” you were consulting on a case the team is currently on, so he can’t lie. 
He doesn’t try to, like you’d suspected, “I asked Emily to stay behind, you aren’t doing well.” 
You sigh on the other side of the door, relenting because you know that he won’t leave. 
“How can I help you?” You’re a little less than polite, but Spencer doesn’t seem to care. He knows what it’s like to be sidelined from the team due to injury and be upset about it. 
“Well first, you can let me in, I may look strong but these arms were not made to hold more than five bags at a time.” he’s as tender as he always is and it softens you. 
Stepping aside, you let Spencer in. Your apartment is clean, you’ve been surviving off delivery breakfasts and take out lunches, you can’t raise your hand high, so cooking is a no. 
You’re not worried about your attire, you’re in a green tank top with ’save the planet’ embroidered in cursive with a sick earth just beneath it, and a pair of cotton shorts that hit just above your knee- the heat in the city was driving you crazy and you also didn’t have the energy to try for more clothes- certainly not without upsetting your shoulder some more.
If Spencer is surprised by your outfit, he says nothing. You’re hardly surprised by his, a purple shirt tucked neatly into his dress pants and smart shoes; you’re not sure how he’s managed a perfect outfit in this heat.
Spencer sets the bags down and begins the task of taking out all the things inside- he pulls out packages of various nuts, passion fruit juices and a mountain of those clear, plastic bowls filled with fruit. 
“You didn’t have to buy pre-cut fruit; I know it’s more expensive that way.” You say to him, finding a bit of trouble pushing yourself into the chair you have at your kitchen island. 
Spencer sets down the plastic bags and moves around the countertop to help you, “I cut them myself, they didn’t have the ones you like in the grocery store.” 
You’re stunned silent, the bowls are full of watermelon, cantaloupes, orange quarters, mangoes, grapes and pineapple. All your favourites cut exactly the way you liked. Spencer must’ve spent around a hundred dollars just getting the fruit alone, maybe even more if the number of grapes is anything to go off of. 
“Spencer, you didn't have to.” He shrugs, his eyes searching your face. 
“How’s your head? Have you been feeling dizzy or having double vision?” It’s not easy to lie to Spencer, doubly so when he’s standing before you and staring at you so intensely. 
“The dizziness comes and goes, mostly when I’m in the shower.” You say honestly, and Spencer frowns. 
“You could’ve told me,” you blow a raspberry and pull the bowl full of mangoes towards you. 
“You would’ve made me go back to the hospital; I don’t like the smell of them.” you chew on a piece of mango while Spencer carries on assessing you. 
He notes that the mottling on your shoulder has gone down significantly, now it’s just purple and a little blue. Your eyes don’t appear unfocused, and Spencer is glad for it. “I wouldn’t have.”
“So, what’s your verdict, Doc?” you ask, shutting the lid on the mangoes before you burn through the entire container. 
“You’re not concussed, I think your dizziness in the shower is from you moving your shoulder too much and agitating it.” Spencer presses a light fingertip into the bruised skin and you hiss, batting his hand away making him laugh. 
You hum, “So what? I just never shower again? In the middle of this heatwave? I’d rather die.”  
“I forget how dramatic you can be.” Spencer shakes his head, “Or, you could’ve called me, or Penelope and either one of us could’ve given you a sponge bath.” 
You make your eyebrows dance, “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you Spence?” He rolls his eyes, tugging on the braid your hair is in. 
“How’d you do that?” he asks, helping you off the chair and leading you into your kitchen. 
Your face is red hot, “I bribed my neighbour’s kid to do it for pumpkin bread the minute my arm is out the sling.” 
Of course you did, you might be sunshine incarnate, but Spencer knows everyone has a spot they don’t want others to see- this is yours. You don’t want anyone in your team viewing you as incapable or in need when they should see you as capable and able to do every facet of your job. 
“I can help you make the bread tonight if you want something to do when the case is over.” 
You tilt your head, watching Spencer look around your cupboards for a glass. “Top left cabinet,” you say and he nods, smiling when he finds a glass covered in stickered ladybugs. 
Spencer fills it almost to the top with passion fruit juice and passes it to you. 
“Are you staying the night, Spencer Reid?” you take a sip and sigh in delight, it’s been a while since you’ve had passion fruit juice, you’re not entirely sure how Spencer knew it was your favourite. 
“If you let me, it isn’t good for you to be by yourself and the more you strain your shoulder, the longer it’ll take for you to get back in the field.”
An impish smile tugs at your lips, your eyes gleaming with a mischievousness Spencer hardly thought you possessed, “So what you’re saying is, you miss me desperately and will sacrifice your hatred of germs and touching other people just to ensure I’m back in Quantico at your earliest convenience?” 
A call from Penelope cuts through the fat of your question, making you laugh when Spencer rushes to answer it and slides you a mock glare that you know is just for show. 
“Yeah, Penelope, what have you got? Y/n and I are here,” well, there’s no escaping his presence now. You find you don’t mind it quite so much, your beginning aims of not falling for him is shredding more and more as the months go on.
670 notes · View notes
wtfsteveharrington · 2 days
Text
don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie
content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 
mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**
she/her pronouns used for reader!
author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3
word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!
Tumblr media
If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 
In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 
He’s protective, that’s all. 
The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 
“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”
It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 
The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 
you drive me crazy when you start to tease
You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.
you could bring the devil to his knees
Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -
“Holy shit.”
No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.
“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 
You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”
The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 
He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.
You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”
The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 
feel my heat takin' you higher. 
burn with me, heaven's on fire. 
paint the sky with desire.
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 
He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 
It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.
Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 
Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”
Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 
You’re coughing. 
Like, way more than normal. 
Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 
“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 
Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 
When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 
It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..
Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?
You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 
“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 
Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 
“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 
“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.
He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 
You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.
The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 
Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.
Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.
He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.
Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.
“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”
Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.
“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.
“Huh.”
It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”
Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.
“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”
You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.
Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.
“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”
You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 
“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”
Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.
“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.
You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 
“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 
His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 
“Then kiss me.”
Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.
He’s not though. 
Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 
Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 
Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.
The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 
Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 
Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 
Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 
“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 
The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 
You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.
Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.
Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 
You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 
He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.
"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.
It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.
Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."
You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.
Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.
All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.
It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.
Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 
“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 
Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.
"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"
Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."
Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.
His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.
Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.
You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.
There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.
This is crazy.
Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.
It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.
He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.
Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."
Eddie's going to fucking combust.
Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."
And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.
Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.
Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"
He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."
Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”
The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."
Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.
Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.
Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.
You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 
There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 
You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 
Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 
Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 
Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 
“How does she feel, Munson?”
“Like fuckin’ heaven.”
Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.
He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.
To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.
He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.
Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.
“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”
You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.
Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.
And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 
It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 
You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.
Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.
He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.
You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.
"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.
He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.
“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”
Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”
Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.
You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.
Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.
“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”
Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.
And they’re both moaning.
Neither pulling away.
Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.
It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.
Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.
Right?
So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.
And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?
Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 
The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 
Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”
It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.
You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 
Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”
He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.
There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 
Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.
He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 
Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 
Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.
He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 
It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 
“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 
His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.
Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 
You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 
Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 
Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 
Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”
718 notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
Text
If Twst Unveil has a Tsum Event:
Yuurin: Leona-senpai, do you know what creature is this? *holding a tsum that resembles her*
Leona: Yeah. That's a tsum. We used to have them before.
Leona: Looks like you've got yours too.
Yuurin: ...
Her tsum: ...
Yuurin: So it's a pet?
Leona: No. You won't be able to keep it because it'll leave tomorrow evening.
Yuurin: Oh. I see.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *starts gently squeezing the tsum*
Her tsum: *happy squeaky sound*
Leona's tsum: *appears out of nowhere and is now sitting on her shoulder*
Leona: ...
Leona: Where the heck did you come from?!
Yuurin: I see. This is Leona-senpai's tsum.
Leona's tsum: *nods*
Leona: Why are you here again?
Leona's tsum: *hops to Yuurin's tsum's side*
Leona's tsum: *protective brother expression*
Yuurin: ?
Leona: ...
Leona: *putting light make up on Yuurin's tsum*
Yuurin's tsum: *behaving well*
Leona: *places a small tiara on its head*
Yuurin's tsum: *eye smile*
The Savanaclaw students: ...
Savanaclaw student A: Uh, boss?
Leona: You can play with this tsum if you can get past that one.
Leona's tsum: *on guard noises*
The Savanaclaw students: Aww...
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Yuurin: *has a red lip tint on*
Ruggie: Yuurin?
Yuurin: Yes, Ruggie-senpai? *seems unaware*
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Nevermind. You look great! *grins*
Jack: Yeah! *smiles*
Ace: Why are you with Leona-senpai's tsum? Where is yours?
Yuurin: It wants to play with Leona-senpai.
Ace: I see.
Leona's tsum: *looking sternly at Ace*
Ace: ...
Ace: By the way, you look good with that red lip tint. It makes your lips look kissable.
Yuurin: Huh?
Leona's tsum: *decides to beat him up*
Ace: Ack!
The other first-years: ...
Epel: Wow... Ace is being beaten up by a tsum...
Sebek: ...
Sebek: *recalls the time when Yuurin said that she was a girl*
Sebek: No. It can't be. There's no way.
Sebek: ...
Sebek: But what if he's really a lady?!
Deuce: Sebek? Are you okay?
Ortho: ...
Ortho: *giggles*
558 notes · View notes
kenntolog · 2 days
Note
sukuna realizing your sad because a classmate was flirting with him and ur just all upset because you thought he dont want u anymore. IM SORR I NEED SOME FLUFF
𝝑𝝔 an: hope u enjoy thisssss!!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser reader here!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you’ve been avoiding sukuna and he knows it.
it’s not that hard to see when you’re walking around with a sad face, getting to the lecture hall later than him so he doesn’t find a way to sit by your side, not answering his messages properly, not going to his practice games with lame excuses. and honestly, sukuna is kind of hurt because you refuse to acknowledge that he cares and tell him what is bothering you.
but sukuna isn’t dumb. and it was fairly easy to realise that you were upset with him because you were jealous of yorozu from his group literally throwing herself at him at every chance she got. it wasn’t anything new since she has been bothering him from the first year of university, when they were introduced as classmates.
it seemed like yorozu’s sense of obsession with him got stronger with upcoming spring. she was not leaving his side in the hallways, trying to tag along with whatever he was doing even while he didn’t spare her a glance, she was calling him the nickname he only allowed you to use which pissed him off further and she clung to him like a vice, her grip not wavering even when her dumb friends called out to her.
and in these moments, while sukuna’s mind was filled with questions like ‘how to get away with murder’, your insecurities got the best of you, seeing how sukuna, though visibly annoyed, didn’t seem to push her away completely. so you stopped walking up to him in the hallways after classes to plant his favourite types of kisses on his cheeks and you avoided catching his eyes because it hurt.
yorozu is beautiful, her beauty is carnal and almost every guy in the university drools over her so it shouldn’t come off as a surprise that maybe… maybe you aren’t the best choice for sukuna?
it goes on like this for a couple of excruciating days; jin and yuuji don’t risk asking about why sukuna seemingly only busies himself with practice and why he dons a deep scowl. they suspect that it’s something related to you, but don’t interfere and sukuna is happy they don’t. his mind is constantly focused on trying to get to you and as much as he wants to go to your place and talk things out… he’s scared. and he gives you space, thinking that the situation won’t escalate further.
but it does, when he catches you in the empty hallway, trying to get to your class with the saddest expression he’s ever seen you have. sukuna calls out to you, speeding up his steps and you stop, something hopeful burning in your eyes as you wait for him patiently.
yet, of course, yorozu appears out of nowhere with her wide smile and catches up to him quickly. sukuna sees the hope in your eyes quickly switch to betrayal, your bottom lip trembling and eyes glistening with tears as you turn away and run towards the bathroom. something cracks inside of him. but this time he’s not going to let damned yorozu stop him.
he rips his arm away from her grip, stepping back instantly while she looks up at him as if nothing is happening, “piss off or i will get violent.”
“‘kunaa~ why you gotta be so rude?” she leans her head against his shoulder insistently, batting her eyelashes at him. his eyes only see red when he hears the nickname again and he decides that he’s gonna use a different method this time.
he slowly guides his hand up her arm, feeling her relax under his touch, and weaves his fingers through her hair gently before his grip tightens and he tugs her head back roughly.
finally her face displays something other than satisfaction and that ugly smirk, and he shakes her in his hold while his other hand covers her mouth to stop her from making any sounds.
“don’t ever fuckin’ call me that,” he leans closer to her face. “and if you come up to me anytime again i won’t stop at this.”
she whimpers and nods shakily, trying to pull away before he harshly lets go of her hair, causing her to fall down.
he runs to the bathroom quickly, entering without any care and looks under the cabins to see where you are, but you seem to have found another place to hide while he was busy with yorozu. sukuna runs around looking through empty classes until he finally finds you in the art class, sitting in the corner farthest from the door and sniffling quietly.
“baby?” you jolt in your spot and cover your face with your hands, hurriedly wiping away your tears. he approaches you slowly, his hands itching to touch you, but he understands that you might not want that. “you cryin’?”
“no?” you croak out, sobbing a little more and sukuna feels like getting punched in the face repeatedly. you finally look at him, and sukuna steps closer to stand between your legs.
“‘m sorry.”
“you don’t have to apologise, y’know? ‘s okay if you like her.”
now, that’s crazy. “the fuck? i hate that bitch.”
you give him an unsure look and he sinks onto his knees before you, tugging your hands down from your face before he cups your jaw like he loves to do. you pout at him, still sniffling and trying to avoid his gaze, but he doesn’t let you, gently shaking your head to make you focus on him.
“look at me, baby.”
“‘m looking, ‘kuna.”
“no, do it properly.”
you take a few deep breaths, wiping your nose with your sleeve messily. and lock gazes with him. sukuna leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his free hand resting on top of your head. the weight of it is familiar to you, making you relax into him, your hands wrapping around his arm.
he pulls away, stroking your hair as he looks down at you with a gentle look in his eyes.
“i don’t want her. i only want you and i want you to engrave it into your thick skull or i will do it myself.”
you give him an unsure smile, eyes a little bit brighter now.
“i’m sorry for makin’ you feel like this.”
“i’m sorry for not talking to you about it.”
sukuna nods at you, hugging you close to his chest and kissing the top of your head lovingly, before he tightens his hold on you so much you start punching his back.
“but if you ever decide to run from me again i will kill you.”
“‘kuna, can’t breathe—”
970 notes · View notes
uravitypng · 3 days
Text
big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.
prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.
so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"
izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"
you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."
izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'
you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.
people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"
a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.
izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.
his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.
you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.
izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.
when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.
your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."
izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.
568 notes · View notes
Note
hii can you maybe write some rafe angst (i just wanna cry)? idk maybe something about reader finally leaving him after too many chances and he feels like the world is ending or something like that ? btw i love ur work sm <3
Tumblr media
warnings: angst, cheating
a/n: tysm for this req i’m so happy you love my works <3
“it says that he’s at topper’s..” you glanced up from your phone, sighing to yourself when jade scoffed. “of course he’s at topper’s! but what do you think is happening over there?” your friend took a seat next to you. closing out rafe’s location, you couldn’t help but feel like you were crazy for checking it in the first place. “rafe said he was setting up shop for a party, okay? he’s just busy that’s all.” you sounded unsure, like you were trying to reassure yourself more than anything.
“oh, he’s busy all right.” shutting your eyes, you whimpered. “he hasn’t answered his phone, jade, i’m out of options okay? i’m just going to wait here for him.” she pulled you up before you could lay in self pity. “no you’re not. what we’re gonna do is go down there and catch his ass in the act, okay? you’ve been way too nice to him.” knowing there wasn’t anything you could do but go along with her, you found yourself in her car five minutes later.
“as your friend, y/n, it hurts me to see you go through this time and time again. this asshole doesn’t deserve you and it enrages me that you can’t understand that.” you listened to her rant the whole way to topper’s, your anxiety growing as you two got closer to your destination. “look, when we get in there just remember that no matter what happens you’re not going through this alone, alright?” you smiled at jade, pulling her in for a hug before you two stepped out of her car and made your way inside.
as usual, the place was filled to the brim with partygoers, everyone seemingly in their own world as you and jade walked through the crowded room. “where to?” jade shouted over the music, dragging you in the direction you pointed out to her. when you two made it to rafe’s usual spot, he was nowhere to be found. “y/n, what are you doing here?” topper looked on edge as he greeted you. “hi, ‘top. do you know where rafe is? i’ve been trying to get ahold of him..” you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered upstairs.
“uhh.. you know what! he actually just left, yup. maybe you should go home and see-” jade cut him off, “you’re a really bad liar. upstairs, y/n.” you blinked, your feet moving before you could second guess this whole thing. your best friend followed behind you, your heart beating in your chest as you stood outside the only door that was closed. “ah, shit,” you heard rafe’s voice on the other side of the door, your stomach turning when another girl’s laugh echoed in your ears.
with a shaky hand, you twisted the door knob, your heart dropping to your stomach at the sight of rafe pushing a girl’s head down his cock. “rafe?” your voice was small but it made his eyes snap open. “baby? what are you doing here?” he scrambled up from the bed, pushing away the girl that was kneeling between his thighs. “what the hell!” she wiped her mouth, “you said you were single, asshole.” the girl flashed you an apologetic look as she walked past you and out the door.
tears filled your eyes. rafe cheated on you, again. “you told her you were single?” you whispered, the betrayal cutting deep through your chest like a knife. rafe moved closer, attempting to grab your arm. “no, no, it’s not what it looked like baby, i swear!” he fumbled with his belt, cursing to himself as you shook your head. “i can’t keep doing this with you,” you backed away, “i can’t..” rafe pulled you inside the room, locking the door shut.
“y/n, please let me explain,” he was pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands. “she was giving you head, rafe. how do you ‘explain’ that?” you were eerily calm, staring at nothing but thinking about everything. “she was short on money for some blow, alright? she came onto me, it didn’t mean shit.” he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you sniffled, swatting his hand away.
“to know that every laugh, every smile, every memory that we’ve ever shared together wasn’t, isn’t, enough to keep you from choosing someone else over me, just means nothing to you? do you even know what this is doing to me right now?” something about this felt different to rafe, and that’s what terrified him. “of course it’s enough, it’s more than enough. i don’t know why i keep doing this to you, baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” he rubbed his bottom lip, the blue of his eyes now sparkling with tears under the soft light of the room.
“you have it all, rafe. tanneyhill, your father’s business, ‘kook king’ status.. me. what more could you possibly want? what more do you need? the last few times you did this, i was graceful enough to overlook it because i was scared of what it would mean if i did something about it.” if rafe was terrified earlier, now he was damn near ready to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him. “but i think i’ve just realized something,” oh. fuck. those words made him sick to his stomach.
“wait! please, baby, let’s just go home, okay? let’s call it a night. i’ll make a hot bath for us and we could watch your favorite movies until we fall asleep, just the way you like it, right?” you were seconds away from full on sobbing at his words, the memories of you two cuddling in bed and exchanging ‘i love you’s’ shattering what was left of your heart. “no.. no, i don’t think i want to do that.” rafe was quick, shaking his head as his mouth fell open slightly.
“y/n. this will never happen again, i fucking promise.” he got on his knees. “please.” you looked down, “i need you. you’re the one i want to share everything with. it’s you that i see when i envision my life five, ten, twenty years from now, babe. you’re it for me, i swear. this was just a mistake.” he was clinging onto the hem of your shirt now. “a mistake? betrayal isn’t a mistake, rafe, you chose this.” you planted your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away.
“i’m staying the night with jade but i’ll be back sometime this week for my stuff.” you looked away from him, not being able to trust yourself if you saw the pained expression on his face right now. he groaned, fingers dragging down his face as he got back up on his feet. “you can’t, y/n. please, you can’t do this.” rafe kept a hand on the door so you couldn’t open it. “i’ll do anything, baby, just tell me what to do and i’ll do it.” he pleaded with you.
“move your hand.” you spoke quietly. there was a long pause. “if i stay, rafe, i’ll never leave.”
488 notes · View notes
of-many-fandomss · 2 days
Note
if you could, maybe a fic where reader is the youngest on the grid, and has lost her father. anyway, she wins a grand prix (whatever you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter which one!), and just immediately runs to charles because she knows her dad’s not there to see her big win. he’s immediately taken back but then understands why she came to him and is there to comfort her
and maybe she invites him up on the podium with her!!
thanks :))
Proud
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: your father was no longer there, but your next biggest supporter was
paring: charles leclerc x reader platonic
warnings: mentions of parental death
word count: 0.6k
a/n: in honor of my baby lando getting his first win 🥹🧡
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
The blur of your vision no doubt made it borderline dangerous to be driving- but you couldn’t care. Not one single bit.
Not as you pulled into the spot reserved just for you, a p1 resting against the poster right in front of your car that you could barely make out.
A sob raked through your body suddenly and you dropped your hemelt clad head into your hands, breathing shaky and heart rate still accelerated.
You took a moment for yourself, your eyes squeezed shut and your senses buzzing. There were screams of the crowd around you, each one of them celebrating your victory in a deafening roar of pure thrill and excitement.
Finally, you jumped out of your car, ripping the hemelt from off of your head just in time to see an all too familiar Red Bull vehicle pull up to your right and a Ferrari to your left, taking up their respective places by your side.
Whipping around, you paid no mind to the cheers of congratulations from your team, nor the reporters that tried to invade your space as you raced as quickly as you could to the bright red Ferrari.
Charles hopped out of his car just in time for you to crash into his arms, eyes once again squeezed shut as you hugged the man tightly.
The man stumbled back a bit- having already shed his helmet- eyes slightly wide as he looked down at you, but softened as he watched you finally let the tears flow free from your eyes ducts.
He recovered quickly and hurtfully swept you into his embrace, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him, neither of you tuned into any of the hundreds of cameras that were snapping all around you.
After so much hard work- after so much dedication- you had finally done it. You had finally won your Grand Prix- and one on your home track nonetheless.
The tears were partially for the dedication that was finally paying off, but it was mostly for the man that you wish was by your side at the moment.
Your father.
The man that had always been your biggest supporter, through and through.
From your karting days to when you finally signed on with Red Bull just over five months ago when you turned eighteen.
Only two months later, he had passed away from a sudden and quick disease that had left you and the rest of your family utterly heartbroken.
Even before he had been gone, Charles had been quick to take you under his wing. You weren’t his teammate, and yet, he couldn’t help the sense of responsibility that took over him when he had first gazed upon you. He had wanted nothing more than to make you feel welcomed and safe in formula 1.
And that’s what he did.
When you had lost the man that had been your biggest supporter- Leclerc became just as large of one.
“I’m so proud of you,” He murmured in your ear for only you to hear, listening to the way you were hiccuping against the material of his tracksuit, “Your father would be so proud.”
You squeezed him tighter for a moment before pulling away, laughing slightly through teary eyes at him.
Charles smiled, moving a piece of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m so proud of you.” He repeated.
“Thank you,” You whispered.
Thank you for saying it. Thank you for looking out for me- for always being there.
Though you didn’t say the words, your eyes shone brightly with them and the man understood.
He nodded before taking his gloved hand in yours, “Come on, let’s get you to your first top spot on the podium.”
When you turned around, you were greeted with the sight of screaming, ecstatic fans, and beaming drivers.
Each and every person in that place was so proud of you, but none smiled as brightly as Charles when you mounted the top of the podium and held your trophy up high.
755 notes · View notes
andersonlore · 2 days
Note
hey baby, how’re you? so i just watched bound again, and i was thinking.. corky! ellie and violet! reader.. maybe? and ellie bends reader over counter, spanks her a little, straps her down while reader worries of her husband coming in. but ellie fucks her so good, she’s completely cockdrunk.. just maybe..
Tumblr media Tumblr media
bound to fuck | ellie williams
tags: eighteen+, daddy kink, cheating, strap sex, slight voyeurism, degrading, kinda toxic!ellie, breeding kink.
an. i am ovulating and i finished a request in a reasonable amount of time! wowowowow. but hi baby! thank you for the request, i feel like i did a shit job, but i hope you enjoy it. anyways, i'm done starving my abby lovers. beefy blonde coming up next — pic credit.
Tumblr media
wooden bookshelves, shelves with his favorite reads or at least presenting himself to be a man of literature. each book filed became decoration, pretty covers with a lot going on, but never something he could actually pick up. not quite deemed worth his time. always trapped in the responsibilities of his den but your husband keeps on a loose leash. truly, it’s his mistake. 
he’d been the one to hire her in the first place. a contractor needed to fix a few mishaps in the house and you couldn’t help yourself. no, not one bit. tattoos scattered randomly across her sun-kissed skin as if done on a whim, freckled shoulders exposed in the white tank top she wore. wet,auburn hair lightly styled with gel, a few strands framing full cheeks. from the first look, she became your nightmare. beautiful green eyes disguised in greed. 
it all happened so quickly, the heat of the moment taking a hold over any sense of responsibility. the sparkling diamond held weight but none in your heart, especially as she bent you over the white stone countertop. pants shoved down to your ankles, her cock wedged deep inside you as you stare at the oak door of your husband’s office just past the common room. 
“is this what you want? fucked like some type of whore, huh?” ellie smacks the fat of your ass, digging blunt nails into your unmarked skin. “last time wasn’t quite good enough. yeah, i know, baby. not very fun when you don’t get to come.” slender hips slam into you again as you whimper, touching a particular sensitive spot for you. 
“i’ve been so good, daddy. please, can i cum tonight?” ellie more than surprised with your manners. not even having to remind you of how to speak with her. you give in — granted, she’s already fucking you into another dimension. “i-i, c-can’t, fuck, s’hard to talk.” 
“and why is it sweetheart? can’t keep up?” ellie sends another slap to your ass, claiming the skin with her touch. gripping  your hips, she brings you back over her cock as her hips roll. “s’good for. yeah? always need daddy’s cock inside you. your husband can’t fucking satisfy you even if mine is made of plastic.” maliciously, she chuckles and you feel your cunt pulsate. crying for a release, practically begging. 
“ah—” you try to compose yourself but ellie shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. she pushes too far, sometimes. getting off to your crook husband in the other room, completely unaware his wife is getting fucked by the hired help. “els, stop being so cruel.” 
“hm, why so glum? it’s not like you actually give a fuck. pussy just needs to be filled by me. if you can’t fucking handle it, maybe you should grovel back to his medicore dick.” she leans over you, takes a breath before whispering in your ear. “what’s it gonna be, angel? want me to finish or want to go back to faking it?” 
meanwhile her pace is punishing, bringing you closer to the precipice of completion. slyly slipping her hand between your legs, toying with your clit as you gasp. “sh, baby. tell me what you want. want me to slip out and let him finish you off?” 
“fuck no.” softly, you moan her name. “want your cock, no one else’s.” 
“you sure? not afraid of being caught? could come at any moment.” the double innuendo is lost on you as you feel the familiar build in your stomach. “could spoil it, maybe. watch me as i fuck my pussy. your pussy belongs to me angel. daddy’s good girl, only mine.” 
the noise of your wet slick echoes, you know you’re close. ellie has gotten you there enough to know it too. “c’mon, i’ll do what the old fuck can’t. put a baby inside this pretty belly of yours. make sure you come home with me. forever knocked up and fucking mine.” you cum at her words, body twitching in bright white light. your vision blurred as you slump against the countertop. 
gently, she presses a kiss to the nape of you neck. your body heaving, attempting to catch your breath. “it’s okay, angel. s’good for me, yeah? mhm, s'alright. i got you.” her calloused hands smooth over your soft skin, taking her time to bring you back down to earth. “wanna go again?” 
you nod, glad she can’t see the stupid smile on your face. “better be loud this time. i mean it. you’re coming home with me tonight.” 
455 notes · View notes
simpjaes · 22 hours
Note
idk if u would like this but. idol!jake fingering idol!reader while he reads out loud what people online say about her when they sexualize her / write smut abt her😂
i don't typically do idol aus but i literally haven't stopped thinking about this for like...days. wc: 706
Tumblr media
"look how tight they think you are." Jake coos in your ear from behind, arms that were once wrapped around you in a warm hug now holding you against him just so he can keep up the pace under your shorts with his fingers. "imagine if they knew they were right."
you can't help the warmth that fans your cheeks. you'll never get used to it when he does this with you, always eager to read and see what people have to say about you online, only to end up hard and touchy after looking a bit too into it.
you know what you signed up for regarding this career path. there would be smut, there would be comments, there would be all sorts of pornographic materials made about you. that's something you came to terms with before you even made this decision, but realizing that Jake, a man within this same career path, ignores his own smut just to read yours?
you'd argue he may be one of the anonymous accounts writing it in the first place given how he reacts. sometimes he's jealous, other times he's reminded that he's the one who gets to do these things to you.
just like right now, as he recites specific passages from some raunchy fan fiction he said you had to hear about. you were gonna ask him how he found it, and why he's already read it, but you didn't really have to.
considering that warm and endearing hug from earlier absolutely included his cock already hard and probably leaking in his pants.
"pretty skin, all swollen from the bites." Jake continues to read, whispering in your ear as he starts dragging his teeth down your neck. "tight cunt, dripping and needy." he continues, scissoring his fingers open to remind you of just how well these fans must know you.
"Oh, look babe," Jake smiles, angling his fingers just right to have you rolling your eyes. "how come you say all sorts of dirty shit here, but you're too shy to do it for me?"
you can't turn to look at him with a quirked brow like you wish you could, but you're aware that he probably knows the dumbfounded look on your face.
"tell me to fuck you." He dead-pans behind your neck with a breathy whispers, moving to the other side to nibble against your ear. "Be like her, tell me how deep you wish i could be in you right now." ah, the flush is back and your cheeks are on fire. You've never been much of a talker in bed, but having to live up to the half-truths some horny fan wrote is...well.
both hot and creepy. You'd never have paid these websites a single glance if it weren't for Jake consistently reading them out to you.
you can't bring yourself to be like that for him, as you dip your head against his arm and shake your head 'no.' jake smiles at how cute you truly are, sliding his fingers out to circle your clit, reminding himself that he's got the real girl right here. "just say it once baby, please." Jake says playfully, kissing your jawline as he feels your hips move up and against the pads of his fingers, aiming your clit right where you want it. "You'd sound so pretty- just like they said you would." something inside of you cringes, but another part of you ignites at how into every version of you Jake seems to be. You take in a breathe, releasing a slight moan from the pressure below as you sigh out for him. "fuck me, jake." ah, he's so proud to be the one to hear those words. So, so fucking proud to be the one to get to do it to you. And fuck, he'd give just about anything to rub it in those chronically online loser's faces. After all, that's his girlfriend they're writing about. No matter how hot, no matter how much Jake would love for you to be just like the version of you in some of these fics, he'll be fucking damned not to love you how you really are. So pretty, so sweet, so willing to indulge him.
305 notes · View notes
stylesispunk · 3 days
Text
'I love you, it's ruining my life'
Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You get to spend your last night with Joel before he gets married to another woman.
w.c: 4k>
warning: angst, mentions of cheating. No proofreading, messy writing (possibly).
a/n: Well, hello. I wrote this because I had this idea in my head for a few days but now I don't feel like I completely wrote what I wanted. Nevertheless, here is it. Sorry if this is not my best work, but I wrote it in a rush and a part 2 could be possible. There's another fic I'm working on so I hope that's better than this one. Happy reading and I hope to have time soon to be back to writing 💌
Tumblr media
Everyone around you could see it. The dilated pupils, the starry-eyed gaze, and the wide smile when you were with Joel. Everyone could see it, but Joel. You could also feel it, but it was forbidden. Being high over heels for your friend was almost a felony. Joel was your best friend, and he was getting married to another woman.
Your paths crossed the day you moved into your new house. The one next to his. You had gotten a glimpse of him a few times during your first days there. His messy hair and the crease between his eyebrows made him look in distress, running back and forth all the time, which made you want to know about him. A few days later, you learned from a neighbor that Joel was recently widowed with a small baby girl named Sarah, who had become his whole world. And you had gotten to meet him one day when he knocked at your doorstep, disheveled and with puffy eyes, carrying a crying baby girl tightly against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world, which, to him, she undoubtedly was.
"Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice as you noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks.
Joel looked up, startled by the sound of your voice. His tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability before he composed himself. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a rough night. Sarah's been fussy, and I just..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced down at his daughter, then took a look at your clothes. You were wearing a strapless black dress, and when he glanced up at you, he almost got his air cut by your gorgeous face.
You were clearly getting ready to go out; after all, you were a young woman living next to his, and as far as he could tell, you were single.
“I’m sorry, you... You are leaving. I don’t know why I came here,” he said.
Without hesitation and ignoring Joel’s words, you reached out and gently rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to come in?" you offered, gesturing to the warmth and comfort of your home.
Joel hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before he nodded gratefully. Stepping inside, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sank into the nearest chair. You followed suit, sitting across from him and offering a sympathetic smile.
“I just came back home,” you said.
“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly.
“You said I was leaving. I’m not.” You smiled again, trying to contain the tinkle in your naked arms as you looked at the man in front of you.
"Oh,” he replied. "Oh," Joel repeated, his voice tinged with surprise as he processed your words. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah, who had quieted down in your presence.
After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I, um, actually came here because... I need some help," he admitted quietly, his eyes avoiding yours.
You nodded, understanding dawning as you realized the weight of responsibility that Joel carried as a single parent. "Of course," you said softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to help however I can."
Joel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over his tired features. "Thank you," he murmured, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and Sarah... she deserves better."
Sarah.
You had learned the baby’s name was Sarah.
“My wife died during labor,” he confessed.
As Joel's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing. Your heart ached for him, knowing the pain he must have endured losing his wife, especially under such tragic circumstances.
"I'm so sorry, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."
Joel nodded, his expression haunted as he stared off into the distance. "It's been... it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to face," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But Sarah... she's been my anchor. My reason to keep going." He paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m asking you if you can help me take care of her just for tonight. I just have this thing with my brother, and I found out you’re a teacher, so I suppose you’re good with kids.”
“Wait…how… How do you know I’m a teacher?”
Joel blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hesitated for a moment before his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, well... I may have asked around the neighborhood," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, finding his awkwardness endearing. "I see," you said with a playful smile. "Well, you're right. I am a teacher. And I'd be more than happy to help take care of Sarah tonight."
Relief washed over Joel's features, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, really. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of appreciation and vulnerability.
You nodded, understanding his need for support and reassurance, especially during such a challenging time. "Don't worry about it," you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sarah will be in good hands with me."
With that settled, Joel visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Tumblr media
Since that day, you and Joel have become thick as thieves, and consequently, you have become Sarah’s best friend. The three of you became inseparable, sharing laughter and tears as you were there for each other through the ups and downs of life. Whether it was late-night diaper changes or spontaneous dance parties in the living room, you cherished every moment spent with both of them.
As Sarah grew older, she became not only Joel's whole world but yours as well. You watched with pride as she took her first steps, spoke her first words, and grew into a bright, curious toddler. And through it all, you were there by her side, offering guidance, love, and endless patience.
But amidst the joy and laughter, there was a bittersweet longing lingering in the air—a longing for something more, something you knew could never be. You buried your feelings deep within your heart, knowing that to act on them would only bring pain and heartache to those you loved most.
Of course you had dated; you went on dates, but they never worked out. No one was Joel, so you kept burying your love for him. You caught yourself in a complex web of emotion with that lingering ache for something more. What could have happened if you had talked before? But as much as you tried to bury your feelings for Joel, they remained a constant presence, a silent companion that followed you wherever you went.
And now, watching as Joel prepared for his upcoming wedding, the realization of his happiness with another woman cutting through you like a knife. Each detail of the ceremony seemed to magnify the distance between you, reminding you of the forbidden nature of your feelings.
Tess was a lovely woman, yet she didn’t completely like the idea that you and her soon-to-be husband were so close. Perhaps she sensed the depth of your connection with Joel, or maybe she simply felt threatened by the strong relationship you had forged with him and his daughter.
You tried your best to reassure Tess, to show her that your intentions were pure—that you were simply there to support Joel and Sarah in any way you could. But despite your efforts, there remained an underlying tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.
However, you knew that after the wedding, you and Joel would grow apart, and you already had a plan to bear with the solace that would cause you.
Tumblr media
“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight." Joel gushed, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “It feels like when Sarah fell asleep and stayed late talking.”
You nodded, plastering a smile on your face. It had taken a lot of work to become this good at faking it. You had conditioned yourself to smile at Joel and respond to his questions with excitement, as your insides felt like they were tearing apart from the thought of these being the last hours of Joel being single. But you didn’t have a choice.
Almost eight years of friendship had taken a toll on you. That was a lot of time to reconsider your feelings and come back with a new perspective, but you were just burying your feelings as you always do. You didn’t want to ruin Joel’s chance of happiness, and as soon as tomorrow arrived, you would play your role and then be out of his life.
“Are you excited?” Joel asked you.
“For you?” you asked, bringing your wine glass to your lips. “Of course,” you plastered your best smile at him, even though it didn’t reach your eyes.
Joel smiled back at you, tossing himself on the sofa, his hand over his chest as he breathed in and out rhythmically, watching as you stared at your glass of wine with a lost gaze.
“What do you want to do?” He asked, only watching you shrug.
“Don’t know.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Joel only hummed in response, looking around his living room before his eyes settled on the record player across the room, his eyes widening in excitement.
“Hun.”
“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled, directing your gaze at him. You were just waiting to drift off to sleep.
“Do you remember our parties?”
Your eyes opened to look at Joel trying to piece together what he wanted to do. “I do, why?”
Without another word, Joel stood up and walked across the room to his record player, standing there with a tin of dust. Trying to look for the perfect disc and allow the melody to sweep through the house.
After his silence, you closed your eyes once again, just to abruptly open them to the familiar melody of the song playing through the house.
Out of touch, out of reach, yeah
You could try to get closer to me.
I’m in love; I’m in deep, yeah.
Hypnotized, I’m shaking to my knees.
Without a warning, Joel shot across the room to you, raising his hand for you to take it.
“What are you doing?” You questioned.
You felt a rush of panic surge through you as Joel approached, his outstretched hand beckoning you to join him. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to escape the moment and the temptation to give in to the pull of the music and Joel's presence.
"I... I don't know, Joel," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you hesitated to take his hand. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to resist, to maintain the boundaries you had carefully erected between you and Joel. But as his warm gaze met yours, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked within you—a longing, a yearning for something more.
Joel's expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Come on," he urged gently, his voice low and soothing. "Let's dance, just like old times."
Despite your better judgment, you found yourself relenting, allowing Joel to pull you to your feet and into his arms. As the music enveloped you both, you were transported back to a time when laughter and joy filled the air, when the weight of unspoken feelings had yet to cast its shadow over your friendship.
For a moment, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and in the warmth of Joel's embrace. But even as you swayed together in the dim light of his living room, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that tugged at the corners of your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat.
"I'm going to miss this, you know? Our late-night dance parties, just the two of us." You whispered.
“I’m not dying,” he replied, humored.
You pulled back to look at his face for a moment, finding the words you wanted to say. “I know, but it will be different.”
You found the same easy smile and the same playful glint that had always been there, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath.
"I know," Joel replied, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently. "Things are going to be different after tomorrow. But no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend; you know that, right?"
His words struck a chord within you, stirring a mix of emotions that you struggled to put into words. Part of you wanted to cling to Joel's reassurance, to hold onto the comfort of his friendship, even as the world around you shifted and changed. But another part of you couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring and whether things would ever truly be the same between you and Joel again.
"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "I know."
And as you continued to dance together in the dim light of Joel's living room, you couldn't help but wonder. What would happen after tomorrow?
You allowed yourself to inhale his perfume as you placed your head on his shoulder, containing the tears that threatened to spill.
There was silence.
“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.
As Joel's question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settled over you like a heavy fog. You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, holding a depth of curiosity and vulnerability that you hadn't expected.
"Have you ever been in love before?" He asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if he were searching for something in your answer, something beyond mere words.
You felt a lump form in your throat, the truth of your feelings threatening to spill out despite your best efforts to contain them. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Joel—not now, not when the walls you had built around your heart felt so fragile and precarious.
"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that had long been buried deep within you. "Yes, I have."
Joel's expression softened, and his heart exploded at the tiny thought of being the one you loved. “And... is it someone I know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal and how much to lay bare before him. But in the end, you couldn't deny him the truth, and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to finally speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.
"Maybe,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you met Joel's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.
As the song ended, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confession lingering in the air like a palpable presence. You and Joel stood there, locked in a moment of uncertainty, each grappling with the implications of your words.
Joel's gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting feelings.
“Wait, you have to tell me so you can be the next one to get married?” Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's attempt to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the gravity of this situation inside you.
“I can’t.”
“Why? Any man would love to be with someone like you.” he encouraged.
“I can’t because that man is getting married tomorrow.” That's it. You had confessed your feelings for him.
A heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You could see the flicker of realization cross Joel's features, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words.
The warmth that had filled the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a palpable tension that wrapped around you both like a suffocating blanket. You watched as Joel's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions playing across his features—shock, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sadness.
"I... I don't know what to say," Joel finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't realize... I mean, I never thought..."
His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his gaze fixating on a spot on the floor as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his confusion and uncertainty pressing down on you—a heavy burden that threatened to crush you beneath its weight.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I didn't mean to... I never meant for things to get this complicated."
Joel shook his head; his expression hurt as he finally met your gaze once more. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "I just...”
You nodded in understanding, knowing that this revelation had changed everything between you, perhaps irreparably so. But even as the reality of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at finally speaking the truth, no matter how painful it may be.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Joel's question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.
You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of your feelings. "I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether."
Joel's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek as he listened intently. "You could never lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my best friend, and nothing could ever change that."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Joel's understanding and compassion. "I know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant keeping my feelings hidden."
“And you had to wait all these years just to tell me the night before I got married!” He raised his voice; he had never done it before.
Your heart clenched at Joel's raised voice, the rawness of his emotions cutting through you like a knife. "I know, I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I should have told you sooner; I should have been honest with you from the beginning."
Joel's expression softened at your words, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "I'm not mad," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm just... I'm just surprised, that's all. I never knew."
His words trailed off, and you could see the turmoil churning beneath the surface, the weight of his impending marriage bearing down on him like a heavy burden. You reached out, tentatively placing your hand over his as you searched for the right words to ease his pain.
As the weight of your shared emotions hung heavily in the air, you and Joel sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other as if trying to decipher the unspoken words lingering between you. There was tension, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, and neither of you could resist its irresistible force.
With a trembling breath, you meet his eyes, knowing this would be the last time you would be this close to him.
His eyes also met yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within your own heart. And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and electrifying, Joel closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings, a silent confession of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world falling away to leave only the two of you, lost in the swirling tide of emotions that threatened to consume you both.
As Joel deepened the kiss, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell of the moment and pulling you both back to reality with a jolt. You reluctantly pulled away from each other, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to compose yourselves.
Joel's hand instinctively went to his pocket, retrieving his phone with a mixture of frustration and resignation. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing in confusion as he recognized the name flashing on the screen.
"It's Tess," he murmured, his voice tinged with apprehension as he answered the call. "Hey, Tess, what's up?"
You watched as Joel listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, his expression growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. Your heart sank as you realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before you, the weight of Joel's impending marriage casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy you had shared just moments before.
After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally ended the call, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered his phone. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.
"I have to go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tess needs me."
You nodded, your heart heavy with disappointment and resignation. "I understand," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the ache in your chest.
And with that, Joel gathered his things and made his way to the door.
“Joel.”
He stopped on his tracks by the door, looking at you without being able to look you in the eyes.
Joel's steps faltered at your words, his hand pausing on the doorknob as he turned to face you once more. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.
“I’m not coming tomorrow,” you said.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the significance of your statement.
You took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I mean, I can't be there tomorrow," you repeated, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “Not after this, so I’m going back to my house and I’ll move to New York just as I planned.”
“What?” Joel's voice wavered with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your words. He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading as if hoping you would take back what you had just said.
"Please, don't do this," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You can't just leave like this, not after everything that's happened between us."
You felt a pang of guilt at the anguish in Joel's voice, the weight of his words bearing down on you like a heavy burden. But you knew that staying would only prolong the inevitable, dragging out the pain and heartache for both of you.
"I have to," you said softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't stay here and watch you marry someone else, knowing how I feel about you. It's too much, Joel. I need to go."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the ache in your chest growing heavier with each passing moment. But despite the pain, you knew deep down that leaving was the only option, the only way to protect your heart from further damage.
Joel reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I... I need you here with me."
You met his gaze, the intensity of his words washing over you like a wave. But as much as you longed to stay, you knew that leaving was the only way forward, the only way to find peace and healing for your shattered heart.
"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned away from him. "But you just kiss me, and I feel sick because you cheated, and I won’t be the other woman.”
Joel's shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with anguish as he realized the depth of his mistake. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you. "I'll call off the wedding; I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just please, don't go."
“Do you even love me to do that?” you asked,
Joel's eyes widened at your question, his expression filled with a mixture of shock and desperation. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.
The silence was defeating, and your heart sank at his response, the uncertainty in his words cutting through you like a knife. You had hoped for reassurance, for a declaration of love that would make everything right again, but instead, you were met with doubt and confusion.
And with that, you gathered your things and made your way to the door, leaving Joel standing alone in his living room, his heart breaking with every step you took away from him.
"You'll marry Tess, and I'll leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you disappeared from his sight.
The words echoed in Joel's mind long after you had gone. At that moment, Joel knew that he had to make a choice—one that would determine the course of his future and the fate of his heart. But as he sat alone in the silence of his living room, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever before.
..................
347 notes · View notes
Text
Arizona | On Call
part i
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: frankie has a question.
pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader
ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. reader and frankie are both bi and have same sex exes. mostly fluff here, folks. and some (maybe a lot of?) angst. just a couple of buds chillin'. some talk of dead/absent parents.
reader is a teacher and has hair, but she is otherwise a blank slate.
wc: 5.1k
an: wow - i really did not expect this little guy to get the response it did yesterday. eternally grateful for your support and enthusiasm. i love you. hope y'all enjoy <3
dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics
That taste All I ever needed All I ever wanted Too dumb to surrender
- arizona, kings of leon
series masterlist | main masterlist
Tumblr media
It’s quiet in the house. 
Golden, gooey sunlight pools on the living room floor, slanting through the windows. It’s warm against the arm he has resting on the edge of the sofa, not a chirp or a lawnmower whirring outside, and when Frankie closes his eyes, you’re the first thing he sees. 
Evenings like this are the mirror of when your truck first rattled up the street and groaned to a halt outside your front door. He can see it now, within the darkness behind his eyelids, how he’d peeked from behind the curtains in Lucia’s stifling room, her small, sleeping body sprawled on the bed behind him. How the truck door had swung open, how your bare legs had emerged from the cool of the cab, how you’d hopped down onto the pavement and raised a hand to shield your eyes from the low-lying sun. You’d licked your teeth as you’d rechecked the address and looked up at the house - your house. Blown a deep breath out from your cheeks and then turned back to the truck to scrabble around for your keys. 
Frankie had turned from the window as soon as you’d bent across the front seat, only glimpsing the bottom of the plush of your ass peeking from below your sweat shorts before he’d swept the curtain and the image aside.
He’d given it two minutes before he’d clattered out of his front door at the same time as you’d emerged from yours, raising a hand in greeting over the fence that separated your houses. You’d answered with a wide grin and a lilting hey, neighbour as he’d looped the boundary, holding out a palm for you to shake. I'm Frankie, he’d said, shooting a thumb over his shoulder at his open front door. From across the way. You’d given him your name in return, quirking an eyebrow as you asked whether he was feeling strong.
The truth is, that day Frankie would have been whatever you needed him to be. Immediately taken by your warm charm, your glinting smile - the mischief always just behind your eyes, the way you moved through your house. Even now, he cooks you dinner during exam season when you’re up to your eyeballs in papers, mows your lawn when he’s already cutting his own. Offers a shoulder to cry on when you’re missing your dad, always your best friend with spare beers when you’re free on a Saturday night - and you never fail to return the favour. 
The way things are now, it’s like he can’t even remember what it was like to not have you next door. What it was like when he wasn’t launching your paper onto your porch, what it was like when you weren’t soaking him and Lucia with the hose over the fence as they launched water balloons at you from the other side, both your backyards filled with squeals and shouts of laughter. He’s so glad - so infinitely glad - that fate or whatever it was that had a hand in these things dropped you on the curb that evening a year ago. That he had grinned and laughed and said yes ma’am, that he had lept at the chance to be a good neighbour and started lifting the boxes from the truck bed, helped you set up your wifi, invited you in for a beer in his kitchen when you ordered food for the two of you as Lucia slept soundly upstairs. 
He remembers being shocked at how easy it was. Easy conversation, easy laughter, easy silence. Easy friendship.
How he’d looked forward to seeing you across your lawns in the morning, calling out your greetings as you clambered into your truck and he fastened Lucia into her booster in his. The catch ups over the fence when you’d finished your days, recounting stories from the classroom or cockpit, Lucia chipping in her own from nursery. The delight in your eyes when they’d knocked on your door a couple of weekends after you’d moved in, arms laden with a tub of homemade cookies. How you’d invited them in, drinking coffee and juice, how easily you’d gotten on with Lucia. She’d adored you after that first afternoon spent together, falling asleep in your lap as you’d settled in front of the TV in low evening light. You and Frankie had talked long afterwards in lowered voices, you refusing to be relieved of his daughter’s tiny sleeping body, insisting you were just as comfortable as she was. The little girl only stirred when Frankie made you snort with laughter at something one of his friends had said. 
Conversation had turned to friends, family. He told you about his brothers in arms, his mom and dad, Lucia’s mother. A woman who was jetting across the country as a flight attendant, an amicable breakup leading to easy co-parenting. You’d gladly told him about your friends, but hesitated before telling him of how your mom had disappeared from your life when you were little, how your dad had passed away a couple years back. He’d stretched an arm out, one hand settling on and squeezing your knee. Big palms warm and heavy, thick fingers gentle and understanding. When you’d followed the line of his arm up to meet his eyes again, crow's feet folded in their corners. Kindness, understanding. Someone who knew loss, too.
He asked about your dad, what he was like, and you’d regaled him with stories of growing up with ice-cream dates, summers you spent fishing on the local lake, how he’d carry you on his shoulders, his tight throat when he told you how proud he was of you at graduation. 
He’d tentatively asked if your dad had been why you moved out here, understanding the need to put physical distance between yourself and the pain and memory of your surroundings.
No, you’d said, eyes glinting ruefully, this was because of a breakup.
Frankie hadn’t pushed for anymore after that.
You’d invited them over for dinner the weekend after, and Frankie had stood by your side in the kitchen, insisting on helping you cook, immovable despite the rag you whipped at him. As you chopped and fried, you'd told Lucia about stars and blackholes and plants and bugs. She was especially taken by bugs.
You’d dug out books you’d borrowed - and never returned - from the school library for her to pore over, even giving her a magnifying glass to use to hunt for critters in your backyard as you and Frankie had washed up afterwards. The three of you then spent an hour on your hands and knees on the grass as Lucia found worms and beetles and caterpillars, a soft smile on Frankie’s face as you shouldered her never-ending questions with all the grace of a bona-fide teacher. 
Every night that week, Lucia had clamoured to go next door and see the bug lady again.
Frankie had had to explain that you were busy working (yes, even this late, mija), and then had to endure the tiny stomping of feet as Lucia explained to him - with all the levity a four-year-old could muster - that there just weren’t enough bugs in their garden; they had to see the bug lady.
Bug lady. The first nickname they’d christened you with. You’d laughed with a full chest when he told you, and assured him it would be a mantle you’d bear with honour. Bug lady. And then, with time and growing softness, it was shortened to bug, and it stuck. 
Tonight, there is a different question to can we come over and look for bugs? that he needs to ask.
He thinks - knows - you’re the right person for it. Deep in his heart. Can count on one hand the number of people he’d entrust the safety of his daughter with, and all of them are too far away to call.
He needs a babysitter. And so far, he’s gotten nowhere fast with his inquiries.
The numbers he’s tried have been polite enough, more than good at their jobs. But they have clients already, families who came way before him that meant accommodating sitting at relatively short notice would be sporadic at best and impossible at worst.
And he’s running out of time. 
His first late night flight is Thursday; some rich guy taking a date up into the skies to watch the view over the city. It’s good money, and he'd be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the sights, too. The glimmer of the city below, the ridges of the hills, flash of the ocean in the distance. The worlds and lives of so many people cradled in the bowl of the valley. It’s beautiful, humbling. It’s worth sharing.
You’d enjoy it, he knows. And every night flight reminds him of an evening not too long ago when he’d struck a deal with you, asking you to grab him a beer when you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom mid-movie. You’d wiggled your eyebrows at him, what’s in it for me?
He’d snorted at you, offering various services and items in exchange, all refused, but then before I’ll take you up in the heli if you - had even finished leaving his mouth, you’d leaped up from the sofa, grabbing his hand to shake on it before he could back out. At night. You’d specified, nodding, wide-eyed as though he’d been the one to say it.
He’d rolled his eyes at your eagerness, demanding you make sure it was an extra cold one for that, and you’d bowed in the doorway, smirking. 
‘At your service, my liege,’ you’d said, before scampering out the way of the cushion Frankie launched at you. 
He’d had to ask you to explain to Lucia why she shouldn’t call him my liege two days later, when it seemed she’d lost the meaning of Papi in an effort to be like you. You’d snorted into your soda when he told you, but had fixed Lucia with serious eyes when you told her that Papi was a very special name to call her dad, one that helped him feel loved and appreciated. Lucia had acquiesced quickly afterwards, stretching her arms out to Frankie before he lifted her from her chair, tucking her face into his neck as she apologised profusely, reassuring him that she still loved him the same, just that my liege had sounded so fun coming from your mouth. Frankie had looked over her curls at your bitten lip, your silent laughter, holding his own amusement behind his teeth as he stroked her back and cooed that he knew, mija, it’s okay.
He remembers, with a lurch below his navel, how Lucia had then asked whether you’d call him Papi to show him he was loved, too. How both your jaws had fallen slack, how something had flickered behind your eyes too quickly for him to catch before you’d told her you call him other things to the same effect. Fish, buddy, and then mouthed over the top of her head, asshole. Frankie had laughed, the jumping of his body pushing Lucia into her own giggles, and you’d soon followed.
It’s strange how much like a family you’ve become over the last year, how well you’ve slotted into their lives. One of his best friends, pulling up with the boys when it comes to ranking his favourite people. Filling gaps he didn’t even know were there, healing fissures he thought had closed. How well you fit in his arms, how well your head fits beneath his chin. How well your lips might fit with his, how well you -
A breath of laughter puffs from his nose, and he rolls his eyes at himself. He’s too old to have a crush, too old to be smiling to himself when he thinks of the girl next door, his best pal. Besides, he has a bad track record with dating friends, anyway.
He checks his watch, stills, listening for the sounds of a restless daughter. Satisfied, he pushes himself up from the orange-bathed haven of the couch with a grunt, pulls open the front door, and skips down the porch steps.
The stubble of the lawn is cool beneath his socks as he jogs across the grass, curving around the picket fence between your properties to pop back up on the other side, striding towards your house.
He takes the steps up your porch two at a time, rapping his knuckles against the sage green of your door. He waits no more than five seconds before he knocks again, earning an irritated alriiiiight from the other side.
The click of a lock, and it swings open to reveal you in shorts, a cap, and a worn cotton t-shirt - sun-warmed, soft, gorgeous. 
You grin at the man on your doorstep, and he grins back.
‘Evenin’, teach.’
You click your tongue at the nickname.
‘Way past your bedtime, Morales,’ you tease, ‘You need a warm milk?’
Frankie flicks the back of his hand against the bill of your cap, giggling as it falls to the ground. 
You smooth your hair, scrabbling for the hat, scowling at him.
‘Need a warm milk,’ he mocks, and you land a carefully curled fist against his bicep as you stand, deadening his arm. ‘Ow, pendeja,’ he pouts, rubbing at it. ‘You know, wearing a cap indoors still doesn’t make you cool.’
That pretty, playful little scowl flickers over your face again.
‘I just finished my study break, actually.’
‘Oh yeah? What are we studying today? A million ways teenagers make your life hard?’
The scowl is stolen by a bitten back smile, and you wave him off, turning on your heel down the hallway, tugging your cap back on.
‘Whaddya want? Pain in my ass,’ you call, walking away from him and back into your kitchen. He follows, drumming his fingers along your sideboard as he goes.
‘I need a favour, if you have any spare.’
Your kitchen is bathed in the same warm glow as his living room, but instead of quiet, there’s the slow turn and hum of your laundry machine in the closet, the sweet croon of a voice from the record player in the corner. Fruit in a bowl, bottles of gifted wine, pictures of friends, paintings from students. The jungle of houseplants you keep towards the patio doors, the jumble of papers, books, planners, and pens spread around your laptop on the table.
It’s so you. So like home.
You pick up the stem of your wine glass, half full, between your thumb and pointer finger, eyes turned up to the ceiling as you count on your other hand. You wince and suck your teeth, eyes falling back to his.
‘I dunno. ’S not looking good, Fish,’ you say somberly, ‘My favour quota’s already been exceeded this year.’
‘Baby, it’s March.’ 
You shrug.
‘Been busy.’
He raises an eyebrow at you, and you scoff.
‘Well, I guess I could make an exception for you, big guy.’
He smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter.
‘I need a babysitter.’
You nod, swallowing a mouthful of wine before placing the glass back on its coaster. Papers shift and whisper as you hunt for your phone, buried in the piles of essays.
‘Oh. Sure. I have some numbers -’
‘Actually - I was thinking -’
‘Now that’s dangerous for all of us.’
He points a finger at you, and you bite your lip, humour lighting your eyes.
‘Ha. Anyway. I was thinking - I know… I know you got that big car bill last month. And I know you don’t get paid enough. And you know Lucia loves you…’
You frown at him.
‘You want me to babysit?’
He bites his lip, looking over your table with clearer eyes. You’re busy. Always busy. Overworked and stressed. A heat crawls up his neck, early onset guilt.
Maybe this was a bad idea. He inhales deeply.
‘Yeah. But I’m starting to realise that might be a lot to ask.’
Hm.
He watches as you pull out a chair and sit at the table, studying him.
‘If it makes it any better, you’re my last resort.’
He’s relieved to hear a flutter of a giggle in response, and you clap your hand over your heart.
‘Ouch. There I was, thinking I meant more to you guys than that.’
He crosses his arms, shaking his head, smiling.
‘You know you do, bug.’
You take your cap off, throwing it away from you on the table, rubbing at your forehead.
‘I’ve got a lot of work to do, Frankie,’ you say softly, eyes gentle.
He sighs.
‘I know. You can say no. It’s just - all the numbers I’ve called are kind of booked up, that’s all. And I guess - I wanna leave her with someone I trust. Someone I know. At first, anyway.’
You stare at him still, thinking.
‘What are we talking?’
‘Once or twice a week. Three at the very most. Just for late night flights.’ He pauses. ‘I’ll pay you top dollar.’
You make a disapproving noise.
‘You don’t have to pay me, Frankie.’
‘Of course I do, don’t be ridiculous. It’s on your time. And if it helps you out…’ 
You frown at him, but he fixes you with a look. No negotiating. You turn your gaze out to your backyard. 
He watches, nervous, as you chew your thumb.
Your eyes find his again.
‘Can I take work over? To do round yours?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Do I have to cook?’
‘No. I’ll make sure there’s food. For both of you.’
You nod slowly.
‘And Luc is in bed by…?’
‘Six.’
You nod again.
‘I’m not expecting the whole nine yards,’ he says, shifting. ‘No cookies or playdough, nothing like that. Just someone to look after her. And I’ll still be making calls.’
‘When would you need me?’
Frankie’s mouth twitches. 
‘Thursday this week. Tuesday and Friday next week.’
You take another drink of your wine. 
‘Can I sleep on it?’
‘Of course, bug.’ He smiles. You return it.
‘Then I’ll sleep on it. I’ll see what the schedule’s like and let you know tomorrow.’
His smile widens.
‘Alright. Thank you. Really.’
You stand from your chair, holding up a palm.
‘I ain’t said yes yet, Morales.’
The smile turns goofy.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
He steps away from the counter and pulls you into his arms. Holds you there for a minute, rocking, enjoying the warmth, the closeness, your smell. Reminds himself that it’s weird to think about your scent as much as he does.
You untangle yourself from him, hands on his biceps where you give a little squeeze.
‘Alright,’ you say, ‘Off you go. See if the kid hasn’t burned the house down yet.’
He chuckles as he retreats, backing down your hallway to the open front door.
‘See you tomorrow, teach.’
‘Get lost, Francisco.’
You sign off by flipping each other the bird as he pulls the door shut behind him, just as you usually do.
And as he steps back into his still-quiet house, he tries to tamp down his grin and his fluttering heart, just as he usually does.
You text him two hours later, when he’s fresh from the shower, clad in only his boxers.
Alright, I slept on it. I’ll be round Thursday.
Along with the swell of relief in his chest, this time the grin and the flutter are much harder to smother.
The night before you left for college, you’d had a nightmare.
You weren’t the type to scare easily; eighteen years old and free from any of the real worries the world could bring. And you were so fucking excited for this next adventure, so ready to begin the rest of your life. Still, you’d found yourself doing something you hadn't done since you were a child.
You’d knocked first - softly, so softly. Waited for a come in that never came. Your dad had stirred anyway as you closed the door quietly behind you, turning, half asleep, to see you stood twisting your fingers in the middle of the carpet.
‘Y’alright, sweetheart?’ he’d asked, all gravelly and tender, threatening tears to spill over your lashline.
‘Yeah,’ you’d mumbled, ‘Just had a nightmare.’
He’d simply lifted the covers on the other side of the bed, and you’d slipped into their warmth, scooching into his side, breathing in his smell. He’d cradled you in his arms like you were still a kid - afraid, vulnerable - and you’d let him. Let the tears soak into his shirt. Felt his grip tighten on you, the kiss he pressed to the top of your head. The promise within it, within the cool moonlight bleeding through the curtains. 
If you don’t wanna do it, all you gotta do is say.
He’d known you didn’t need to hear it, knew it was all you’d worked for, dreamed of. So instead, he’d murmured something else.
‘I’m so proud of you.’
You’d nodded into his chest, and he’d waited until the tears stopped falling before he asked if you wanted to talk about it. You hadn’t at first. But he’d always promised that talking about a dream broke it.
‘I dreamt you weren’t here.’
The vision had hung in the room for a moment, lapping against your dad’s quiet breathing.
‘I am. I’m right here, sweetheart.’
You’d nodded again, that deep, swooping panic of being completely alone in the world threatening to claw through your chest and sweep away his comfort. You couldn’t say anything else. Nothing about the empty house you’d seen, the dust sheets covering lonely chairs.
‘Always gonna be here. Can’t get rid of me.’
You’d both known he was wrong. That one day, this night would be a memory. That one day, you’d try to remember what it felt like to be held like this, known like this, try to remember the scent of his sleepshirt, and not be able to. But that would be years - decades - away. Tomorrow you start the beginning of your real, grownup life. Tomorrow, he’ll drive you across the state. He’ll haul your boxes up to your dorm room, and he’ll sit on your bed and look around and smile at you. The smile will be small, full of love, pride, grief. The grief of letting his little girl go, of looking at you and seeing you at all ages at once. Newborn, tiny in his big hands. On his shoulders, laughing at the sky. Nervous on your first day at school. Shy at the gate of highschool. Flying through the years, surrounded by friends, now landing here. 
And when he stands to leave, to tear himself away, the tears will fall again. You’ll say you’re not sure, your whole world rocking, tilting. And he’ll tell you that you might not be, but he is. You’re gonna be great. You’ll be amazing. And his most favourite line of all.
A ship in a harbour is safe. But that’s not what ships were built for.
And you’ll laugh, and you’ll hug him, and you’ll wish you could for a little longer. But you’ll walk him downstairs all the same, out to his car. You’ll shield your eyes and wave until his license plate disappears, and then you’ll cry in the sun until you have a headache. By the time you’re out with your roommate that evening, you’ll feel better. 
You won’t think about whether he cried on the way home, whether his body shook with sobs. Whether he’s sat in front of the TV now, unable to focus on the movie that’s playing because the house is too damn quiet. Won’t think about how, when he tries to sleep, he can still feel that little girl curled up into his side. How he contemplates his own mortality, hopes it won’t come for him for decades, hopes he’ll see you graduate, meet someone, be happy, achieve all you want to.
For now, there is only the blue moonlight, the deep breathing, the warm arms.
And four years later, your nightmare will come true.
You’re awake, though barely. Faintly aware of the wet on your cheeks, of the ache deep in your chest. The memory, the dream. You try to burrow your face into him, try to breathe in his scent, recall the way he talks. And as the same moonlight from the dream floods your vision, you remember. 
Four years later, and the hurt is still as raw. 
You curl into yourself, folding your arms around your body, holding it in, holding it together. Breathe through it - in through the nose, out through the mouth. I love you. I love you. Your voice and your father’s blending together. You try not to let it overwhelm you. Try not to recall all the moments, all the last moments. The hospitals, the treatments, how he wasted away before you, how you could do nothing about it. But it’s hard. So hard, alone, in the middle of the night like this.
When the burn in your throat eases, you reach for your phone. 3:32am. You unlock it out of habit, texts still open. The conversation you’d had with Frankie earlier - times, dates, what he’d make you for dinner. 
You wish they could have met each other. 
You’re sure Frankie would have loved him. Would have loved his laugh, would have shot the shit about baseball, would have clapped him on the back and joined him for beers on the porch like he does with you. And you’re sure your dad would have loved Frankie. Would have seen his kindness, his patience, his humour. A good man, just like he was.
Sometimes, when the younger man leaves your kitchen, your dad appears, sat at the table across from you. 
‘You like him.’ He says. 
‘Come off it, dad,’ like you don’t both know you’re lying. He gives that knowing little shrug. 
‘Whatever, kid,’ he says, ‘I see the way you look at him. Like you looked at - who was it - Jordan, in seventh grade?’ You always throw something at him then. A marker, a highlighter. And he always laughs at you.
You click your phone screen off, bathed in half-darkness once again. Stare at the frozen ceiling fan, the divots and shadows on the ceiling. Tired, but too awake to sleep. 
You grumble as you swing your legs out from the covers, standing from the bed. Pad downstairs in the dark, flick on the kitchen light, fill the kettle and set it to boil. Through the window, across the way, Frankie’s kitchen light is also on. Your brow furrows - this isn’t a time either of you should be awake - but then he appears in the window, shirtless, busying himself with something by the sink, and you quickly avert your eyes. Something you’ve gotten good at doing since you moved here.
Good at desperately trying not to notice his soft curls, the way his biceps stretch his t-shirts, the way his shoulders fill doorways, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. The way he says your name, the golden skin you’ve glimpsed, the noises he might make -
You roll your eyes at yourself. Crashing out of an engagement, skipping town and developing a crush on the DILF next door is so… you. 
Annie would have gotten a kick out of it, that’s for sure.
The kettle finishes its boil, and you reach for a mug, a tea bag. Watch the tendrils of steam curl from the clutch of the ceramic as you brace your hands on the marble either side of it. You chew the inside of your cheek, head hanging between your shoulders, startling when your phone buzzes, furious-sounding as it crawls across the countertop. 
You know who it is before you see the caller ID. 
‘Hey, neighbour.’
‘Hey, bug.’
You smile into the receiver, holding the mobile to your ear as you move to the sink, adding cold water to the tea. You look up through the window to find Frankie also stood before his, looking back at you. Mercifully, he’s found a shirt, but his bed head still has your stomach turning in cartwheels. 
‘What’s up?’
‘Saw your light on. Wanted to check you’re okay.’
You hold up your mug, cheersing him through the glass. 
‘I’m good. Just having a little drink.’
You watch as he cocks his hip against the counter. 
‘Yeah? What kinda drink you got?’
You exhale through your nose, rolling your eyes. 
‘Chamomile.’
There’s a beat, and then his voice is soft, tender.
‘Y’had a nightmare, too?’
You shake your head.
‘Not a nightmare, just a dream.’
‘Dad?’
You nod, sipping.
‘Yeah. You know how it is. Lucia okay?’
You watch him flick his gaze to the hallway, the stairs beyond your line of sight. Hear the scratch of his whiskers as he rubs at his beard.
‘She’s alright. Nothing a warm milk and her night light can’t fix.’
You smile at him.
‘You remind me of him, you know.’
Frankie pauses his scratching, peering out at you, surprised.
‘You’re a good dad. The best. He was, too.’
Your voice is low, affectionate. Something pulls deep in his gut, something that forces a tight bubble up his throat. He swallows a couple of times, closing his eyes to the kindness.
‘Thank you, bug.’
‘I mean it.’
He nods, voice crackly and deep when it comes to you.
‘I know.’
You watch each other a moment longer, separate rooms, separate houses, such closeness bridging those gaps. Frankie breaks the quiet.
‘You sure you’re okay?’
You smile, nod, sip.
‘I’m sure. Should head back to bed, anyway.’
Frankie hums down the line, thoughtful. A breath whistles through his nose.
‘G’night, bug.’
‘Good night, Fish.’
You wait for the beep of the disconnected line, Frankie’s wave through the window. The hard lump in your throat as you watch him retreat to the doorway of his kitchen, the darkness that stares back at you, the ache of being alone again on this moon of grief. 
And something quieter, more selfish. Creeping and tidal that laps at the edges, a want for a man you have convinced yourself you cannot have. A sadness that buzzes deep in your skin, curls back layers of your being, tells you that you cannot afford to be broken again. Not like your dad. Not like Annie. 
But you like him, your dad says. What’s so wrong with that?
You cocoon yourself tightly in your duvet, your back to the moonlight, the reminders. Tired eyes blinking at the door. Waiting. Waiting, in a different life, different house, different state, for eighteen year old you to tiptoe in and tell you about her nightmare. 
Waiting for you to tell her that her dad is right there.
That she should hold him a little longer before he drives home tomorrow. 
321 notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 2 days
Note
omg i keep thinking about reader teasing rafe all day, and like reader keeps like finding reasons that they can’t have sex just to see how far rafe would go. i feel like rafe would either not stand for it or he would get so angry
so bitchy reader coded!!!! she loooves to do this
Tumblr media
teasing rafe is fun because it's so easy. he's such a sucker, falls for your same tricks everytime. you have him running in circles without doing anything at all.
and at heart, you like to see it. it's fun for you—watching him chase you. he cares enough to do it, hasn't stopped even though it's been weeks and months of the same, ever since you caved and allowed yourself to realize you wanted rafe to be your boyfriend.
it starts the same—his favorite dress. strapless, with a pretty blue pattern and a ribbon border that ties into a bow on the neckline, at the curve of your tits. you look pretty, you always do, but this dress makes you even prettier, you think. you pick it out knowing he goes crazy over it every time, knowing you were going to make it hard for him today.
it's not really a day dress, so you slip your white cardigan over your shoulders to make it seem more so, climbing into the passenger seat of rafe's truck with a little too much show, revealing a little too much leg and hands lingering on the seatbelt across your chest a little too long.
when rafe sees you, he swallows hard, and you already know your plan is working. he stares, where the seat belt tightens on your body and the expanse of your thighs that's openly visible now that you're seated.
"rafe?" you question, staring back at your boyfriend while his eyes are hyperfocused on your exposed skin.
"hm?" he looks up at your eyes for a second.
"are you gonna drive or just keep looking at me?"
"oh. uh-" he shifts the car into gear, taking off, though you catch him staring back at you every few minutes. the next time he does, you move your hand to his cheek, pushing it gently so he's looking on the road.
"eyes ahead, perv. i don't wanna die because you're horny," you say it with a laugh, though he doesn't take it as one.
"shut up. why'd you wear that dress?"
a good question. why had you worn the dress? because you and rafe had gotten into a little fight the night before, and there was nothing more satisfying to you than making him cave first in your fights.
"my others were in the laundry. tough."
when he arrives at the country club, it just hits him there's a fully planned day ahead—lunch with top and kelce, golf, dinner with your parents and then the party later that night. there's hardly any time to get you alone.
"listen, princess, i think-"
"gonna be late, rafe! let's go," you say, making a show out of getting out of the truck and flashing him in the process. he groans before getting out to join you.
the day moves painstakingly slow for him. at lunch, you take off the cardigan and lean in to tell him something twice, letting him stare down the front of your dress for a moment before you pull away. when you go to the bathroom to freshen up, he gets up to join you, but you yell out to a friend in the distance and walk in with her, smiling back at rafe.
he sits back at the table grumbling something.
"what's wrong with you?" kelce asks, "never seen you this mad before golf."
"shut it."
on the course, his game is completely off. you keep bending over to retrieve the golf balls after he holes out, walking back and placing it into his palm with a sweet smile, though you are anything but.
"what're you doin'?" rafe asks, holding you close with your arm in his hand.
"getting the ball for top. what else?"
"no, you're fuckin' not." he grips your arm a little tighter, but you break loose, turning around and smiling back at him, before bending over to pick up top's golf ball and placing it in his hand.
he makes it to dinner with your parents angry and horny. you're seated next to rafe, rattling on about your day to them with a hand on rafe's arm. your foot rubs against his ankle, crawling further up while he tries to tell your dad about his golf score.
"the new course is great," your dad says, just as rafe feels your hand on his thigh.
"y-yeah," rafe chokes out.
"you okay? drink some water," you say, smiling like a concerned girlfriend instead of the little devil you really are.
a full day's events later, he gets you alone at the party, setting his beer aside to yank you by the back of your dress into the nearest empty bedroom. your friends stare while rafe drags you away, though you don't look the least bit upset about it.
"hey! you're gonna rip my dress," you say, trying to get free from his insanely strong grip.
"shut it. what the fuck was that all day? huh? thought that was cute?" rafe sounds about as angry as you've ever heard—it's a lot hotter than you had expected.
"what? i didn't do anything."
"shut up. get on the fuckin' bed."
"okay!" you chirp, agreeing immediately. teasing rafe was only fun because you got what you wanted out of it—him, at the end, all angry and tense and pent up. you reach back to undo the bow on your dress, getting ready to unzip it when rafe's hand stops your own.
"no. leave it on."
Tumblr media
379 notes · View notes
barcaatthemoon · 5 hours
Text
i like the way you kiss me || alexia putellas x reader ||
Tumblr media
alexia likes things the way they are, so you try your best to do so as well.
minors dni, 18+, smut warning
you swore that alexia was doing it all on purpose. there was never any time for you to get ready whenever she texted you that she was coming over. it wasn't like you were trying to turn your apartment into some intimate love nest, but you would have liked to have a bit more warning than what you were getting. it was almost like alexia was halfway through the parking lot when she finally decided to text you.
tonight was no different. you had just gotten back from a rather boring tinder date when she told you that she was on her way. less than five minutes later, and alexia was knocking on your front door. it was almost funny when you opened it up, alexia dressed up in a black tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants that did nothing but accentuate the dildo between her legs.
"what if i hadn't gotten back in yet?" you teased. alexia didn't say anything as she strolled right past you. you rolled your eyes as you shut the door and followed her back into your bedroom. these visits were getting quicker and quicker. it wasn't necessarily that it irked you, but you wished that alexia showed a bit more effort. however, you'd never be able to tell her that.
alexia always gave you exactly what you wanted whenever things came down to it. she kept you completely satisfied sexually. that was what this arrangement was, anyway. she wasn't there to hold your hand or kiss you in the early hours of the morning. alexia came over to fuck you, and unfortunately for your sanity, she did it perfectly.
"i saw the pictures of that guy, there's nothing he can do that i can't do better," alexia said smugly. you wanted to say something to knock her down a few pegs, but you couldn't. alexia had a point. there was nothing that a past partner had done for you that alexia hadn't done better already. you were fairly certain that there was absolutely nothing this woman couldn't do in the bedroom. she had turned you onto things that you had sworn up and down you'd never do.
you shut alexia up the only way that you could think to, by kissing her. alexia pushed forward abraisively as she backed you up until you hit the mattress. alexia broke the kiss to sit up and pull her tank top off, knowing that any protests you'd have would die right there. it was almost scary sometimes how easily alexia could just take control of you with the simplest of actions.
"that's a pretty dress. why don't you turn around for me?" alexia asked you. it was confusing sometimes how she'd ask you so sweetly to do something for her right after a show of force. you turned onto your stomach and let alexia lift your hips up into the air. you were used to being in this position, alexia loved to see you on your hands and knees.
she lifted the skirt of your dress up as she nudged your legs open. alexia licked her lips at the sight of your barely concealed pussy. she wasn't sure what she wanted to do first, so she practically dove in between your legs face first. alexia's tongue peeked out to taste you as her fingers pulled your underwear to the side.
"fuck, ale," you moaned. alexia only pushed further, this time dipping her tongue inside of you as far as she could get it. you could feel your legs shake a little as she wriggled her tongue inside of you.
"don't cum yet." alexia teased you. you could feel a bit of embarrassment at being called out, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of pleasure. alexia worked you up to the brink of an orgasm before she completely withdrew from you.
"alexia," you whined at the loss of contact. alexia smirked as she watched you try and push back against her only to find out that she had moved completely off of the bed. you tried to turn your body around to look at her, but that was when you felt her hands return to your body as she grabbed your hips to keep you in the position she wanted.
"no," she told you sternly. you swallowed at what you would have considered a very sexy version of her "captain" voice. it was very nearly the one that you were used to hearing on the pitch as she ordered you around, but this one had a bit of heaviness to it that came with alexia being aroused. "stay like this. if you move, i'll make sure that you don't cum for the rest of the night. i'll keep you right there on the edge until i'm done, understood?"
"yes, ale. i'm sorry." you ducked your head down in shame. alexia seemed satisfied with your apology and moved back onto the bed. this time, you could feel the head of her strap-on as it pressed against your entrance. alexia ran the tip through your folds a couple of times before she pushed it inside of you. "oh my god, alexia!"
"yeah, that's right. scream out my name while i fuck you. i don't want there to be any confusion for your neighbors. i'm the only one who fucks you this good," alexia said directly into your ear. she was leaning over your body as she said these things to you. alexia's hips moved slowly, never completely exiting you with any of her thrusts.
it wasn't until alexia was back to standing up straight that she finally pulled out completely. you were on the verge of whimpering for her to come back when you felt her slam her hips forward. she kept a strong grip on your hips as she thrust in and out of you repeatedly. each of her thrusts rocked you to your core, pushing moans and all sorts of absolutely filthy noises out of you.
"ale, can i cum? please, i want to cum," you begged. alexia didn't answer as she continued to thrust in and out of you. you tried to wait for her to give you some sort of answer, but it never came. instead, you lost your fight as waves of pleasure overcame your body. your legs gave out, but alexia didn't stop thrusting until you were practically crying for her to get off of you from the sensitivity. "are you leaving?"
"i'll see you at practice tomorrow, okay? maybe i'll come over after," alexia told you. you stared at her sadly as she grabbed her clothes to put back on. she was ready to head back out the door when she finally stopped and acknowledged you again. "don't get pouty, we'll have almost all afternoon tomorrow. you won't be able to sit when i'm done with you later."
that wasn't what you wanted to hear, but you couldn't ignore the excitement her words had coursing through your veins. alexia walked over and captured your lips in a kiss, the lingering taste of you still on her tongue. beneath that, however, was the absolutely addicting taste of alexia. that was what you wanted, to have her kissing you all night long, but like always, alexia dipped as soon as she could.
"get some sleep. i need you well rested for tomorrow," alexia told you. in some twisted way, you were pretty sure that she was trying to look out for you. however, you couldn't read into it too much or else you knew that you'd be sorely disappointed.
261 notes · View notes
Note
Hello friend!
Would it be alright if I request some angst content with the Archons + Neuvi + Arlecchino where the darling is injured to a lethal extent, where they are hanging by a thread (your choice if it was self-given or otherwise).
Maybe some of them took darling's company and time for granted so having them be so close to gone is like a wake up call to them, and they become 10x more overbearing, and perhaps a little loving? Thank you!!!
🍌anon
Hi thank you so much for the request! Unfortunately I don't really do more than 3-4 characters in one post anymore so I did half the characters you asked for, but you are 100% free to send in another request for the others <3 I hope you enjoy :D
Tumblr media
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of violence, mentions of delusional behavior, mentions of reader being sick, hurt, and otherwise injured, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk.
Arlecchino:
Arlecchino might be a bit cold and standoffish, but she was never a cruel lover. She just didn’t trust herself to get any closer to you than she was. She’d sleep in the same bed as you at night, buy you gifts, and eat meals with you, but affection was a difficult thing to get from her. Arlecchino has feared being close to someone not because she doesn’t want to be loved, but because she doesn’t want to experience any more loss in her life.
She thought that by keeping you at arm’s length she could protect you, but in fact, she had been wrong. Sitting by your bedside, ears blocking out the dull beeping of your monitors as she stares. Not at your face, she can’t bring herself to look at your gorgeous features after letting you get this hurt, but instead, she stares at your hand. It lays limp on top of the bed sheets, and as much as Arlecchino hates to admit it, she wants nothing more than to hold it right now.
It’s almost as painful as the first time she saw you all bandaged up, wires all over you as you lay on the bed, looking more so asleep than in the coma the doctor said you were in. The desire to hold your hand, it made her fingers twitch, her nose scrunch and her heart hurt. Arlecchino loved you, undoubtedly, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be affectionate with you on this level. Against her will though, her hand seems to move on its own, creeping up the side of the bed and gently scooping up your limp one. Arlecchino was never one to cry, a barely audible curse leaving her lips as she bites them, trying to steady their trembling as she turns her head, blinking away the building tears. She hated crying, but she hated even more that this was the first time she’d ever held your hand, a time when you couldn’t even return it, couldn’t even be awake to feel it.
Neuvillette:
Neuvillette is distraught, both because of how long it took him to notice how bad your cold had been getting and because he didn’t even notice till a small hoard of angry melusines stormed his office. It wasn’t like he was trying to be ignorant, he had just been busy and figured that you’d get over your cold soon. Humans are strong and resilient, a mere cold shouldn’t be that difficult, especially with some melusines caring for you.
He had rushed home immediately, finding you curled up under a mass of blankets and yet still shivering, a gathering of melusines around you fussing and frantic over your continuous decline. While Neuvillette wanted to reassure them that you’d be alright, looking at you in this moment, he couldn’t even reassure himself of that.
A week had passed since Neuvillette had rushed home, refusing to return to his office until you had made a full recovery. He spent most of the day laying in bed with you, helping to keep you warm by holding you close, his natural body temperature being higher than humans helped greatly with this. He wasn’t worried about catching your cold, dragons had much hardier immune systems, but he was worried about your slow recovery rate. Even with the gracious help of the melusines, you had rapidly declined before he came around to ensure you were recovering. A small part of him wonders what it was that was making you worse, he knew the care the melusines provided was above and beyond what he could do himself. The small part of him that doesn’t know hides the smaller part that does know what was wrong, that small bit of denial that his ignorance was making you worse.
Zhongli:
It had been a long time since Zhongli last felt the warm, sticky feeling of blood on his hands, the front of his suit splattered in it and his polearm drenched in it. Despite having once been the war god, it was never something Zhongli enjoyed, which was why he made the change to the god of contracts. Yet in this moment, he couldn’t refrain from the violent nature that lurked within him. 
Seeing you crumpled on the ground, an ever-growing puddle of blood beneath you as a gathering of treasure hoarders laughed and stalked off, hands holding belongings stolen from the innocent citizens of Liyue, you included. It left a gross feeling in his chest, a sickening, growing rage that he couldn’t dismiss. His first move was to evaluate your condition, making sure you were stable before demanding Xiao, his most treasured Adeptus, take you to the Bubu pharmacy. His second course of action was to summon his polearm, following the obvious trail the attackers had left behind.
Zhongli didn’t even bother to clean up before going to visit you, his once pristine image now stained as he stalked into the pharmacy. He was covered in dried red, yet not a spec was his. He didn’t even need directions to know where you were, silently walking over to the cot you were laid on, pulling up a chair to sit beside you as he nodded in regards to the doctor himself, Baizhu. There weren't many in Liyue that Zhongli trusted to treat his beloved well, but Baizhu he knew was a capable doctor. Looking at Xiao, who stood silently in the corner, watching over you till Zhongli arrived, the tall man dismissed the Yaksha, who knew exactly what mess he was being asked to clean up. It was in this moment, watching skilled hands drag a needle through your delicate skin, stitching up wound after wound, that Zhongli swore he’d never leave your side, not even for a moment. He couldn’t lose you.
293 notes · View notes
yoursweetwife · 2 days
Text
How do they celebrate your birthday
Ruan Mei
In fact, Ruan Mei is not interested in holidays, at least you were able to convince her to celebrate New Year and even Valentine's Day, and you would not be offended if she did not remember your birthday, since the scientist had many more important things to do, but perhaps you didn’t know, Ruan Mei writes down all the important dates on pieces of paper, which then hang on her workplace (usually important meetings and your dates, since she tends to get lost in research).
And as soon as Ruan Mei sees that your birthday is approaching, she will set aside two days (one to prepare and the other to spend the day with you) in which she will try to forget about work. It was difficult the first time, but the longer you are together, the easier it is for her to put aside her work and put you first, which would have seemed impossible a few years ago.
Ruan Mei often listens to you, although from the outside it may seem that she is ignoring you, and she is very observant, so if your eyes suddenly stop at something, she will write it down and add it to the list of potential gifts.
She also loves to give handmade gifts, such as embroidery and a new plant. And what would we do without homemade cake? Ruan Mei will never buy cake from stores, she will find the best ingredients and put all her strength and care into a sweet miracle.
The first time she decided to surprise you was in the morning. And the sight of Ruan Mei with a damn festive pipe could really scare an unprepared person.
But you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't melt every time you woke up with May sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a piece of cake with a small candle.
You wake up from quiet rustling next to you, and the first thought that comes to mind is that your lover is getting ready for work, which is why you whine pitifully and try to reach her hand without opening your eyes.A soft laugh touches your ears and the space next to you drops a little.
Ruan Mei's hand gently touches your face, tucking unruly strands behind your ear. How she wished at that moment she had her phone with her to take a picture of this amazing sight..
"Wake up, honey."
You reluctantly open your eyes and blink a few times to regain your vision. Your eyes widen as she brings the cake almost to your face.
"What is this?"
You slowly get up from your lying position so as not to hit Ruan Mei.
"Isn't it obvious? Today is your birthday."
Ruan Mei smiles as he sees your shock turn to realization. She passes the fragrant piece into your hands and gets out of bed. You see a mug of freshly brewed tea on the nightstand.
"Take your time, enjoy every bite. We have the whole day ahead of us."
Veritas Ratio
Ratio has long considered any holidays a waste of time, especially birthdays. It seems to me that his parents practically did not celebrate their son’s birthday, calling it a meaningless and ridiculous event, and this attitude was passed on to Ratio. Either way, you caught him off guard when you came to his office to wish him a happy birthday. You were friends back then, and the pure joy on your face when you gave him a gift made something click in his head.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, he would not have been able to cope with his conscience if he had not returned the favor.
As much as Veritas did not want to admit it, over time he began to enjoy this holiday. Especially when it's your holiday. Ratio feels real pride when he sees how you rejoice at everything he has prepared for you, and this is not a little.
Veritas starts planning about two weeks before the birthday. He'll take a day off for the two of you, and even if you say it's not necessary, Ratio will just kiss you and tell you to enjoy the holiday. He's the type who wants everything to be perfect and has a list of places you can visit. Of course, he acts based on your preferences. However, if you want to spend the day at home, then you don’t need to hide it, just say or hint, and Ratio will immediately understand.
Only Ratio knows nothing about gifts. A classic gift would include an encyclopedia, a frying pan and flowers and things like that, but it's very good at serving you. For the whole day, Veritas is ready to fulfill all your wishes, do you want to go shopping? or go see that terrible movie you were talking about? Please, today he will not refuse, but the complaints will not stop, although there will be a little less of them.
Ratio doesn't like store-bought cakes, so he usually makes private orders. His attempts to make the cake himself do not end well. He is not at all friendly with baking, so he always baked only with you, and Veritas sincerely does not understand why your sponge cake is so soft and fluffy, while it is more reminiscent of a cast iron alloy.
And most importantly, this is one of the few days when he doesn’t get up at five o’clock in the morning to play sports and prepare for the new day. Instead, he just lays next to you, lovingly watching you press against his body.
You wake up to Veritas' hand playing with your tangled hair while his other hand is used as a pillow. Your cheek rests on his hard chest, covered by his pajamas, and you bury your nose deeper into his shirt, inhaling his scent.
Veritas’s hand flows from your hair first to the bare skin of your shoulder, after which it draws a path to your palm, which sends a shiver through your body. And in that moment, you were grateful that your nightie didn’t have sleeves.
Neither of you said a word, wanting to enjoy a moment of peace where no one would disturb you, especially your annoying colleagues (he made sure to turn off yours phones).
There were no smart thoughts or reflections in his head, and Ratio liked it, you made him understand that there are other joys in life, and he will definitely show his gratitude.
Ratio kissed the top of your head, inhaling the pleasant aroma of shampoo. You let out a hum of satisfaction and met Veritas' gaze. He watched as you, still sleepy, fought the urge to fall asleep again, but despite this, your lips parted to quietly greet the man.
"Good morning, Veri."
Your lover smiles at the nickname and squeezes your hand tighter.
"Good morning, my dear."
Aventurine
Aventurine hates celebrating his birthday, although he has begun to enjoy it with you, but he is looking forward to the day of your coming into this world with great impatience. In fact, he doesn’t even need notes and reminders, Aventurine never forgets things that are important to him, and the birthday of his beloved angel is not just an “ordinary day” as you try to convince a man when he starts to fuss. You can see him so excited only in very rare cases; Aventurine has to restrain himself so as not to shower you with love and gifts ahead of time.
The blonde, despite his bright and pretentious appearance, is not a big fan of parties, he will prefer to celebrate this day in your company and will be glad if you want this too.
Aventurine doesn't like to waste money on small things, he has enough money to, as he likes to say, buy an entire planet, so spending a couple of million won't affect his wallet. Fortunately, you managed to convince him not to spend money on unnecessary things, to put it mildly. He offered to buy you a chocolate fountain with the most serious face possible, and if Aventurine hadn't been so cute, he would have received more than a light blow to the back of the head. Although he will still try to convince you to go shopping to show you the place with the most beautiful outfits and even underwear.
But he always tries to create a gift with his own hands. Aventurine took knitting lessons because you told him how your friend's girlfriend knitted a scarf for him. He suffered for several weeks, but still knitted some semblance of a scarf (he usually knitted at work, and his employees constantly heard the roar and swearing outside the door). But he was so happy when you started wearing it!
One day he decided to create a statue of you for your birthday with his own hands, and, of course, Ratio was to be his teacher. Ratio had to avoid the impudent player for several weeks, who came to his classes and distracted him with his antics. In the end, they settled on a medium-sized statue, because Aventurine would not have been able to make a large one in a short time (and he also did not want to spend all the clay on a three-meter statue).
Aventurine is frankly bad in cooking, especially in baking. You have to watch his every move, because otherwise there will be nothing left of the kitchen. Therefore, Aventurine usually orders a cake from the best candy chefs in the galaxy, sometimes he chooses something unusual, but first of all, Aventurine chooses what you like.
But this does not mean that Aventurine will not surprise you with breakfast in bed. He'll get up as early as possible, careful not to wake you up or step on any cat creatures, and head to the kitchen. Aventurine loves it when you make breakfast together, but he is also a romantic.
You reluctantly open your eyes, squinting because of the bright rays of sunlight penetrating through the curtains. You wanted to raise your hand, a smile appeared on your face when you saw two cat-like creatures pressed against you, one of them laying on your hand, and it was a hopeless situation.
This cute picture quickly faded into the background when something fell in the kitchen with a terrible crash, making you and the two cats jump in surprise. Only now did you realize that your lover was not in bed.
Afraid that he would hurt himself, you gently threw the cats off your body and ran to the kitchen to find out what was going on.
A very funny picture appeared before your eyes: several pots were lying on the floor, broken eggs and puddles of milk decorated the tabletop and pajamas of Aventurine, who was standing near the stove with a cat in his hands. He laughed awkwardly and tried to cover up the horror that was happening on the table.
“Darling, why did you wake up so early?”
His failed attempt to distract you was met with silence and an incredulous look. After a minute, you pulled yourself together and ran towards him.
"Kakawasha, for the sake of the Eons, what happened here?"
Your hands gently touched his cheek, covered with some kind of dirt. The cat in his arms meowed contentedly and pressed himself against Aventurine, who simply shrugged.
“The blackie one wanted to play, and I couldn’t refuse him.”
You shook your head and gently hit Aventurine's forehead, making him wince in slight pain.
"You're such a troublesome guy."
“Hehe happy birthday, love.”
330 notes · View notes