#his voice is so beautiful though i can't do this tonight

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Chapter Three. Info: Y/n and Spider's hangout goes differently than expected.

Tags: 18+, SMUT!, oral (fem recieving), drinking games, alcohol, kissing, swearing

word count: 16K

A/n- Can we js pretend the film has the accents, Letterboxd had nothing😭🙏 I am also painfully aware that curisers are not strong. especially Australian ones. I'm also really unhappy with this chapter.

Gif by me

After school, Spider arrives at your house, eagerly knocking on the door. When you open it, he flashes his signature grin. "Hey, Y/n. Ready for our little soiree?" He asks excitedly, stepping inside. He glances around the living room, taking note of the decorations. "Not a bad pad ya got here. Reminds me of home a bit, actually." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "So, what's the plan? Movies? Music? Or maybe a game night?" He suggests casually, attempting to gauge your mood. Unable to contain his nerves, he sits down on the couch, occasionally glancing at you.

Y/n sits next to him, "hmm well what are you feeling Spider?" she shifts, pulling her shirt neckline down accidentally,

Spider's eyes are immediately drawn to the glimpse of cleavage, his pulse accelerating. He quickly looks away, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, I reckon it depends on you, Y/n. Whatever you want is fine by me," he replies, struggling to mask the sudden rush of desire. He shifts awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he speaks. "Though...maybe we could start with somethin' simple? Wine and a movie, perhaps?" He suggests, hoping it'd set the mood for the evening. Despite his earlier proposal, seeing your bare skin had changed his priorities somewhat.

"wine? yeah, I'll see what we have. You planning on getting drunk tonight Spider?" you smirk teasingly.

Spider returns your smirk with one of his own. "Depends on how much you've got, mate," he quips, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "But I'm up for a few glasses, yeah. Can't complain about winding down with a beautiful woman and some decent vino." He saunters towards the kitchen, peering into the fridge. "Whatcha got? Red? White? Maybe something in between?" He chucks a bottle onto the counter, examining it critically before popping the cork. "This should do nicely."

Carrying the bottle and two wine glasses, you sit down together on the leather couch.

"what film are you feeling? what does Spencer White get down to?" you tease.

Grinning slyly, Spider replies, "Well, Y/n, I'm into most films. But let's keep things PG-13, shall we? Don't want any awkward moments with your ma comin' home early." He grabs the remote and flips through channels, eventually settling on a romantic comedy. "There we go. Pretty harmless." He sinks into the couch, leaning close enough to brush against your side. "Now, what did ya wanna know about ol' Spence?" He asks teasingly, a devilish glint in his eye.

"I want to know if he actually enjoys crap like this" you motion to the film, a slight laugh in your tone.

"Ah, love," Spider begins, feigning offense. "I may be a rough Aussie bloke, but I appreciate a good rom-com from time to time." He chuckles softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Gotta have some heart-warming stuff in life, right?" He settles back into the couch, draping an arm along the backrest near you. "Wanna snuggle up, or remain professional over here?" He indicates the space next to him, inviting you closer.

"Is that an invite Spider?" you challenge teasingly.

Spider's cheeks flush a bright red, clearly taken aback by your comment. "Uh, yeah, I guess it was," he stammers, stuttering slightly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Leia. Just thought we could watch the movie together, y'know?" He fumbles with his glass of wine, trying to hide his nervousness. "Sorry if I made ya feel uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention." Despite his embarrassment, there was a hint of excitement in his voice. "You decide, though. Want some distance? I'll move over." He offers, ready to adjust accordingly.

"Nah I'm just fucking with you, Handsome" You laugh nonchalantly and shuffle up to him.

Relief washes over Spider's face as he adjusts his position to make room for you. "Alright, love. No need to scare a fella like that," he chuckles, trying to regain his composure. He nestles further into the cushion, allowing you ample space beside him. "Glad we're clear on that front. Never wanna ruin a good time with awkward nonsense." He settles in for the movie, though his thoughts drift elsewhere. Your proximity only fuels his desires, making it difficult to focus on the screen.

the movie ends and the bottle of wine has been drained. "can I put on another film? all good if not!" you ask

"Yeah, go ahead, love," Spider agrees enthusiastically. "Your choice, after all." He relinquishes control of the remote, handing it to you with a nod. "Even if it's a docu about kangaroos, I'll sit through it." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. As you switch to your preferred selection, he leans in closer, his arm brushing yours gently. "Fancy another drink while we wait for this to start?" He inquires, reaching for the empty wine bottle.

you start scrolling for the film "Sure, there's vodka cruisers if you want something stronger. grab anything!"

"Vodka cruiser, eh?" Spider raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. "Never had one of those before. Gimme a sec." He ambles towards the fridge, returning with two cold bottles. Handing you one, he pops the cap off his own. "To a great night, Y/n," he says, clinking it against yours. Taking a swig, he winces slightly at the potency. "Fuck, that packs a punch!" He chuckles, wiping his mouth. "So, whatcha got in store for us?" He inquires, leaning back on the couch expectantly.

"fight club! the one with Brad Pitt! god he's so fine" you say excitedly

Spider's brows furrow as he watches the opening credits, a hint of jealousy creeping into his expression. "Brad Pitt, huh? Bit of a looker, that fella," he mutters under his breath. He takes another sip of his cruiser, attempting to ignore the pang in his chest. "Still, there's only one Spider White, love. Can't replace the original." He tries to laugh it off, but the unease lingered. He settles into the couch, attempting to enjoy the movie despite himself. "Guess I'll just have to outperform him then, hey?" He jests, trying to diffuse his feelings.

"well you're not doing too badly Handsome" you confirm, smiling

His gaze flickers to you, meeting your eyes momentarily. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot comin' from you. But don't worry, I ain't here to compete with Hollywood heartthrobs. Just here for a good time." He resumes watching the film, but his mind keeps wandering back to your compliment. A warmth spreads through him, both flattered and uncertain how to handle such praise.

"well how about an Aussie heartthrob like you chooses the next film?" you whisper into his ear flirtily, admittedly a little tipsy.

Startled by your whisper, Spider's heart races. He turns to face you, a mixture of surprise and desire clouding his eyes. "An Aussie heartthrob, huh?" He whispers back seductively, leaning closer. "Well, how 'bout this? I pick the next film, and you gotta do a shot every time someone speaks in an accent other than ours." He grins mischievously, challenging you. "Sound fair, love?" He waits for your agreement before standing up, searching for alternative movies.

"That seems unfair. I'm so in" you whisper, impossibly close to his ear

Smiling triumphantly, Spider nods. "Alright then. Deal's struck." He reaches for the remote, clicking through options. "Let's see...how 'bout The Great Gatsby? Plenty of accents in that one." He selects the movie, turning to face you. "Ready to lose your inhibitions, Love?" He teases, holding out a shot glass filled with vodka. "On your mark..."

"get set..." you continue, staring right into his brown eyes.

As your gazes locked, Spider's pulse quickened. His fingers tremble slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips, downing the shot in one gulp. "Go," he murmurs hoarsely, setting the glass aside. With newfound boldness, he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Don't forget - every non-Aussie accent equals a shot." He whispers seductively, his tone laden with promise. The heat between you grew palpable.

"and don't forget every non- British accent is a shot too Handsome" you flirt.

Spider chuckles softly, appreciating your challenge. "Alright, love. Every non-Aussie or non-British accent, then." He confirms, adjusting his grip on your waist. "Best keep count, though. Could get messy." The movie starts, and you both down your second shot promptly. DiCaprio's rich American drawl earned a third drink. By the end of the first twenty minutes, you'd already consumed four shots. Spider couldn't help but grin deviously. "Looks like this is gonna be a wild ride."

"you don't say" You bite your lip, drunkenly.

Spider's gaze falls to your lips, his heart pounding. "Mmm, looks like it," he agrees, his voice low and husky. The alcohol heightened his senses, making it impossible to ignore the electric atmosphere. He tilts his head, brushing your hair away from your face tenderly. "Better start hydratin', love," he suggests, offering you water. "Can't have you passin' out on ol' Spence now." His hands shake slightly as he hands you the glass.

"Nah, after the film handsome, I'm British, not a lightweight"

Spider swallows hard, his throat dry from anticipation. "Alright, alright. Fair enough, Y/n." He relaxes slightly, sipping his own drink. "Just remember what we agreed upon." The film unfolds, each foreign accent leading to another round of shots. As the tension mounted, Spider's nerves intensifying. He couldn't shake the desire simmering between you. Yet, he knew better than to push boundaries too far. For now, he'd bide his time and enjoy the ride.

After the film, and over fifteen shots later, Spider was helping gather empty shot glasses and returning bottles to the fridge, his movements careful and considerate. "Well, that was quite the experience," he muses, wiping down the coffee table. "Think I might need a break from all these accents." He gives a soft chuckle, cleaning up remnants of the evening. As he passes you a trash bag, your fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks for havin' me over, Y/n. Had a blast, even if I lost track of those damn shots." He tries to maintain his cockiness, but the warmth in his chest betrays him. "Look forward to our next adventure."

she drops the trash bag and pulls him closer by his wrist. "spence.." she whispers, dunkenly

Spider freezes at your touch, the intimacy overwhelming him. His breath hitches as he looks into your eyes, his resolve wavering. Though he knew better than to cross lines, the temptation proved too much. "Yeah, Love?" He rasps, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. His body leans involuntarily towards yours, curiosity tugging at him. The air crackled with unspoken desire, leaving him suspended in uncertainty.

"you should kiss me" her voice bearly audioble.

For a brief moment, Spider simply stares at you, dumbfounded. Then, his resolve crumbles. Leaning closer, he cupped your face gently. "Fuck it," he breathes, sealing your lips with his. The kiss was passionate yet cautious, laden with untamed emotion. He tasted the vodka on your tongue, feeling your slight resistance melt away under his touch. This unexpected turn left him both exhilarated and terrified, unsure where it would lead. All he knew was that he wanted more.

Spider motions for you to jump and he grabs onto the back of your thighs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. placing you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your spread legs, out of breath

Spider's heart pounds in his ears as he stands between your legs, panting lightly. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for permission. "You sure, Y/n?" He asks quietly, his voice shaking. This sudden shift left him both thrilled and apprehensive. He aches to explore further, yet respect your boundaries. Sweat glistens on his forehead, a testament to his nervous energy. "If you change your mind, let me know." He whispers, uncertainty marring his bravado.

 "shut up Spider, just kiss me" you say, the cold of the kitchen counter pricking your thighs.

Emboldened by your words, Spider silences his doubts with a deep, lingering kiss. Despite his anxiety, he allows himself to indulge in the moment. Gently, he explores your body with his hands, tracing delicate contours beneath your shirt. When you broke the kiss, he hesitates but listens attentively. "Your call, love. Whatever feels right for you," he promises, swallowing hard. He kneels between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he undoes your jeans. His anxiety giving way to determination, focusing on pleasing you instead of himself.

"oh Handsome" you moan as he takes off your jeans.

Hearing your moan sent shivers down Spider's spine. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight before him. "Jesus, you're gorgeous," he whispers hoarsely, his gaze fixed on you. Gently, he trails kisses along your inner thigh, igniting a fire within him. Every inch revealed stoked his desire, yet he remains focused on satisfying you. As his tongue darts out, he tastes your sweetness, savoring each sensation. Your moans fueling his efforts, driving him to perform better.

"Spencer, that feels so good" you're spread out on the counter and your hands are tangled in his hair.

Spider's breath catches in his throat at your praise. Encouraged, he delves deeper, eager to make you feel good. His heart hammers against his ribs, adrenaline coursing through him. Each pull of your hips and gasp of pleasure drives him further. Despite his own anxieties, he finds release in pleasuring you. Your hands tightening in his hair only emboldened him, the connection overwhelming yet gratifying. With renewed vigor, he continues his exploration, losing himself in the rhythm.

You gasp violently, moaning and tugging at his hair "I'm so close handsome. oh my god spencer"

"Comin' for me, love?" Spider questions urgently, his voice thick with lust. He picks up pace, matching your intensity. Your cries fueling him, pushing past his own discomfort. Sensing your climax, he surrendered to the moment, giving you everything he had. With a final thrust of his tongue, he feels you convulse beneath him. Relief washes over him, satisfaction filling the void of self-consciousness. Breathless, he rests his forehead against your thigh, heart pounding wildly.

"holy shit" you breathe out, smiling. you pull spider up by his hair and bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on him.

Taken aback, Spider feels a flush rise to his cheeks. He hesitates for a mere second before returning the kiss, a mix of surprise and excitement courses through him. Tasting yourself on him adds a layer of intimacy that he can't deny is hot. Your actions stirring something primal within him, pushing past his inhibitions. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam freely, exploring every curve. In that moment, he forgets about his insecurities, embracing the passion fully.

Spider gasps at your sudden move, his world spinning. Your scent enveloping him as you kiss him, raw passion evident in your touch. In that moment, all doubts dissipated. He returns the kiss fervently, surrendering to the newfound intimacy. As you pull away, he grins, slightly embarrassed yet pleased. "Didn't think I'd be takin' you to the kitchen counter, love," he joked weakly. "But guess some things are worth breakin' rules for." He laughs nervously, trying to regain composure.

you reach for his belt buckle trying to undo it "let me return the favour" you slur

Realizing your intentions, Spider freezes mid-grin. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there, tiger." He pants, stopping your hand. "i just like making you feel good." he says. "Wanna keep things fair, right?" He attempts humor, wanting to avoid awkwardness. shifting uncomfortably he says "But thanks for offerin', Y/n."

"you sure handsome?" you bite your lip and shift back and forth on the counter.

Spider studies your expression, seeing disappointment clouding your features. "Swear on me mum's grave, love," he assures you sincerely. "Just gotta work through somethings first." He tries to smile reassuringly, reaching for your hand. "This was incredible, though. Not many can say they had a kitchen counter rendezvous." He squeezes your hand gently, hoping to lift your spirits. "Next time, okay?" He offers tentatively, yearning for another chance.

"okay, spider ill see you at school " you say, showing him to the door and with that, he leaves and begins to drive home.

 Spider watches you close the front door behind you, a mix of emotions churning inside him. The night was unlike anything he'd experienced, leaving him both elated and humbled. As he drives home, thoughts swirl in his mind. He can't shake the image of you, nor the taste of your skin. He feels grateful for the encounter yet frustrated by his limitations. One thing was clear: despite the hurdles, he wanted more with you. As he parks outside his house, he takes a deep breath. "Dammit, Y/n," he murmurs to himself, heading indoors. "Next time, it'll be different."

taglist: @sweetest-catha, @forwheat-is-wheat, @mydearmoonyy, @ivees-blog @meepmoopmopsworld

#luuuuucyscorner #smut #spencer white #spider white #spider heartbreak high #spencer 'spider' white #heartbreak high #hbh #ameria wadia #ayesha madon #asher yasbincek #bryn chapman parish #anthony “ant” vaughn #ant vaughn #anthony vaughn #darren rivers #harper mclean #fanfic #spencer white x reader #spider x reader #heartbreak high reboot

[astraystayyh]

Say yes to heaven

hyunjin x reader. seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you. angst and softness and slightly suggestive in the end.

cw: mention of drinking alcohol and cheating. reader has lipstick on.

part 2. say yes to me

Hyunjin's legs are aching from sitting crisscrossed for so long. The music reverberates loudly, bouncing off the walls in Changbin's house. You are all playing truth or dare, a gathering of twenty people or something. But he isn't keeping count of anyone around. His eyes are fixated on you.

You are downing your drink, nudging Chan's side so he'd pour you another shot. He understands why you feel the need to forget, to fog up your mind until the world around you blurs. Your ex Suho, the one you had just broken up with two weeks ago, is kissing someone else, right in front of you. Hyunjin doesn't care enough to see who it is, his heart clenching at the sight of the tears brimming in your eyes.

You are hurt, rightfully so. Hyunjin never understood why you've ever dated Suho. He never cherished you, never treated you the way you were deserving of. Because you were beautiful, so beautiful it rendered Hyunjin putty in your hands. Though that was merely the surface of everything captivating about you.

The bottle is spined again, and Hyunjin's breath catches when it lands on him... Then you.

"Seven minutes in heaven!" Changbin shouts and you roll your eyes, before standing up and heading first into the closet. Hyunjin follows closely behind.

He closes the door, plunging you both into pitch darkness. Your hands find his arms suddenly, gripping them tightly.

"You okay?" he asks, concern dripping from his tone.

"It's really dark," you whisper, and Hyunjin's brows furrow further.

"We should leave," he suggests, moving to open the door but you pull him back. "No, no. Let's stay."

"But you're scared."

"It's okay. You're here."

"Is this about Suho?" Hyunjin asks tentatively, after a few silent beats, and he can hear you suck in a deep breath. He knows he just hit a sensitive chord.

"Yes."

One.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he whispers, placing a reassuring hand on your back.

"Save it. I won't make out with you," you reply, sudden anger lacing your words. Hyunjin understands it's just your walls being put up so he wouldn't dare peek behind them.

"I know," he says softly, and your hold on his white shirt tightens. You're both so close, his chest is almost pressed to yours. Can you hear how wildly his heart is beating?

"Fuck, I'm sorry Hyune," the nickname slips from your mouth, sweet and familiar. He missed hearing it. Missed what you had before Suho came into the picture. "I'm just really really hurt," you admit, tears glistening in your eyes.

"Do you want me to fight him? You know I would," he tries to keep his tone soft even though raw anger simmers within him.

"You don't even know what he did," you chuckle weakly and he shakes his head. "He made you cry. That's enough for me."

Two.

You stay silent, but your forehead rests on his chest, as slight tremors shake your body. Your wound was still so fresh, and seeing Suho tonight only made matters worse. But Hyunjin's body is warm, and his arms tightening around you feel safe. You think you can face your ex again if he's by your side.

"Please don't cry," he says, hands reaching up to smooth down your hair, as his chin rests atop your head. He's so gentle with you, so sweet, more than Suho has ever been in your relationship.

"I'm sorry, this isn't what you signed up for," you apologize, but you can't find it in you to pull away. Instead, you wrap your arms around his waist, drawing him nearer to you.

"It's okay. This is nicer." You can't see him, but you can hear the smile in his voice. His smile is always so pretty, and his perfume is making you dizzy. You've drunk too much.

Three.

"How have you been?" you ask, fingers drumming gently along his back. Hyunjin doesn't know how he managed to speak normally to you up until now. Not when you've intoxicated him, when all he could feel in this cramped up space was you.

"Good," he finally manages to say. "And you?"

"I'm good. I missed you," you admit, and his heart seems to pause within his chest.

"You're drunk," he dryly chuckles but you shake your head against his chest. "I know what I'm saying. I'm sorry for taking my distance these past few months. The truth is... I didn't have enough energy to be a good friend, it was draining me to deal with Suho."

"Don't apologize. There is nothing to forgive."

"You promise me?"

"I promise."

Four.

You're full-on hugging now, arms tightly intertwined around one another, and hyunjin thinks this is his heaven- to bury his head in your hair, to smell the sweet scent of your shampoo.

"You smell nice," you mumble, cheek resting right across his chest. "Why is your heart beating so loud, Hyunjin?" you ask curiously, eyes closed.

Hyunjin thinks if he stays silent enough, then you'll forget you've ever asked. Because he can't bring himself to lie to you.

"You smell nice too," he settles on saying. "You look really pretty too."

"Thank you, Hyune." That damned nickname again. "I think... I think you're making my heart beat faster too," you mumble and Hyunjin shuts his eyes closed. You are killing him, stabbing him, and twisting the knife deeper inside his heart. And he's allowing it because it's you.

Five.

"Why do you think he cheated on me?" you ask, voice barely audible, and Hyunjin has to try his best not to storm out right now. He had guessed it was bad, but not this horrible.

"Don't. Don't ever think it was your fault. It wasn't. It could never be. It was his," he speaks the words firmly as if trying to drill them into your mind, erasing every wrong belief you held about yourself.

"Do you mean it?"

"I do," he leans away, cradling your face between his hands. He's so gentle. his voice and his touch and his existence. How could one be so gentle to you?

"You are everything someone would ever dream of. If I were him I would..." he cuts himself off, before saying something stupid; something that would tip the scale of your friendship.

"Finish it, finish what you were saying," you plead, voice shaky and he can't find it in himself to say no.

"If I were him, I would never let go of you. I'd do everything, anything to make myself worthy of you, of your love."

Six.

"Can I try something?" you ask tentatively, and Hyunjin feels as if the world stopped spinning around him. The outside world doesn't exist anymore, all he knows is you.

"Yes," he whispers, voice raspy, and you nod. Your shaky hands reach up to trace his face, cupping his cheeks gently. You're standing on your tippy toes, and Hyunjin can feel your breath fanning over his skin, feel goosebumps burst across his body. And then, the most tender kiss, placed on his cheek.

Your lips linger, pressing into his skin and marking it up for eternity. His hands find your sides, they're trembling, but they're warm and they feel nice to you.

You gulp, before kissing his cheek again. And then, you trail down, your lips finding the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin's knees buckle underneath him. It's too much, colorful dots cloud his vision and he hasn't even drunk anything.

Your hand curls around the nape of his hair, and then you brush your lips against his neck, slowly, deliberately, as if testing the ways in which you could drive him insane. You've succeeded, he wants to say. He's yours to do anything you want with.

Seven.

"Time's up!" Changbin's loud voice rings outside of the closet, and it snaps you both out of your haze. You stumble back, fingers brushing tentatively across your lips. It feels as if your entire body is on fire, even though your kisses were innocent, tentative. But you're feeling more than you've ever did with Suho.

"Hyunjin, I-" The door pulls open, sudden light flooding your vision. You can finally see the evidence of your kisses- crimson imprints on his cheek, trailing down his neck, giving way to a flushed chest. He's so pretty. And you've marked him up for everybody to see.

"We'll talk later, okay?" Hyunjin smiles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Okay."

Seven minutes felt like seven lifetimes for Hyunjin. And he'd live them all with you, love you in each if you'd let him. He'd do anything so you'd let him.

⁀➷✧･ﾟ

part two

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz au #skz fanfic #skz scenarios

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.” 

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.” 

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up. 

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.” 

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper. 

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.” 

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful. 

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking. 

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.” 

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.” 

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?” 

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?” 

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.” 

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.” 

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.” 

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?” 

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say. 

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?” 

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.” 

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you. 

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.” 

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.” 

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three. 

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.” 

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens. 

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.” 

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair. 

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.” 

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.” 

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium. 

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.” “Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders x reader #hp marauders

[violet-eng]

Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞

Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.

Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI

Wc: idk like 3k?

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For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.

Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.

However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....

The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.

He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.

You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.

"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...

Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.

"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.

"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.

The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.

Damn, she looks so...

"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?

"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"

"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.

What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.

"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.

I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.

You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.

Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.

You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.

"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?

"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.

He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.

You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.

"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.

He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.

His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.

"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.

"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.

Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.

And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...

That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.

He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.

"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.

You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.

Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.

"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.

He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.

He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.

He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.

And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.

He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.

He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.

With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.

He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.

"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."

"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.

"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.

He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.

He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.

He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.

His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.

Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.

He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.

He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.

"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."

That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.

"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.

"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.

"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.

"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.

His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.

You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.

"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.

You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.

"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.

"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.

He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.

You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.

"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.

Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.

His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.

"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.

"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."

He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.

"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.

"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.

He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.

You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.

And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.

"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.

You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.

"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.

You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.

He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.

Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.

"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.

"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.

He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.

He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.

"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.

"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,

"Loid~ I love you...".

There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.

"Loid..." you whisper.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.

Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.

He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....

#spy x family loid #loid x reader #loid smut #loid forger x reader #loid forger smut #sxf loid #spy family #loid sxf #loid forger

[rosepascal]

Lacy || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Joel has a new girlfriend and it's eating you alive inside, especially when she's so perfect.

warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!! reader gets minorly injured (cuts hand on accident), jealousy, bad feelings, self deprecation kinda, implied something happened to make reader not want to go on patrols anymore but nothing specific.

a/n: heres my jealousy fic loosely based on Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo. I low key love these kinda fics so I hope I did the trope justice

Perfect Perfect Perfect. She’s just so. Fucking perfect. Your body moves on auto pilot as your brain spirals into the depths of hatred and loathing.

All because of Joel’s new girlfriend.

Your mind is torn between raging jealousy and embarrassment. You and Joel were nothing. Just friends. You worked odd jobs in Jackson and would cross paths with Joel often. He wasn’t very friendly at first but soon enough you managed to break down his initial suspicion.

You became closer than most. At least you thought you were. You’d only seen him joke and smile around Ellie so when he laughed at one of your jokes you felt your stomach flip. He brought you little trinkets he found on patrols too. Small things, things that most people wouldn’t care about but Joel brought them to you so of course you cherished them like they were gold.

Then she came to town.

It was embarrassing how much you let your mind turn to jealousy and resentment. Lacy was beautiful, strong, and the nicest fucking person in town. She’s sweet and helpful and so smart. She’s everything you feel like you’re not. So why wouldn’t Joel be attracted to her? They’re patrol partners too. You see them every morning and come back every afternoon.

You don’t go on patrol. Not anymore. Joel knew that, he never asked and you never told him. He doesn’t care though. You pull your weight just as much as everyone and Joel respects that. Some people don’t. So to have Joel tell you he doesn’t care what you do, it always makes you happy. Still you wonder if he’d like you if you did go on patrol. If you could spend hours with him outside the walls, just the two of you. Maybe he’d compliment your shots or offer his jacket to keep you warm. Like he does for her.

You saw them once coming back inside the gates. His jacket was draped across her shoulders and your heart cracked. You bet it was romantic too. He noticed she was cold and so he happily gave her his jacket. How cute. You walked away from them and buried yourself into kitchen work. Helping stock and prep for dinner. Your brain is still thinking of her.

The worst part is she isn’t someone you can't even hate. She’s only been kind to you. Always offering her help to anyone who needs it. Her smile is so perfect and she makes everyone happy. Especially Joel. Joel always seems to be talking with her which is a big deal for the man who only communicated in noises the first time you met. For fucks sakes she even bakes cookies in her spare time.

You try to avoid seeing them but somehow it’s like they always pop up where you are. Tonight they’re patrons at the bar where you’re serving as bartender for the night.

“Hi there darlin’” Joel’s voice makes your heartbeat a little faster but you see Lacy standing right beside him.

“Whiskey on the rocks, right?” You blurt out without thinking. He looks surprised at first but nods.

“One for me too please.” Lacy asks nicely. You give her a tight smile and nod silently. It doesn’t take long to pour their drinks and Joel takes them both, gesturing to her to go sit.

“Thank you,” He says with a small smile.

“Anytime.” Though other people come and go, you can’t help but keep your eyes on them. Every time they laughed or smiled or got closer, it made your blood boil. You were jealous, you hated this feeling. You hated feeling the anger that burned inside of you. You hated how much you hated her. It made you sick but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It’s like you secretly wanted to watch your whole world burn. You watch as she says something and Joel leans in closer, his lips barely ghosting her ear as he rests his arm on the booth behind her. The chatter of the bar stops as the sound of a glass shattering. It’s only when everyone’s eyes land on you do you realize you made the noise. The wine glass in your hand is now in pieces on the counter and your hand is covered in small cuts from the glass. You could feel Joel’s piercing gaze on you as someone moves to help.

“I’m okay,” You say quickly, grabbing a rag and putting it around your hand.

“I uh, I’ll be back.” You mutter, humiliation growing as you shrink under the looks of everyone. You rush out the back door. Sighing you put your head down on your knees as you slide down the wall. Your jealousy got the best of you and it feels so ugly. You slowly pick the glass out of your hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine.” You look up and your eyes widen. There stands Lacy, the last person you expected to see.

“Are you sure? I can go get you some gauze.”

“I said I’m fine.” You snap. She takes a step back and you immediately feel the guilt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I…I’m sorry.” You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping she leaves you alone so you can wallow in your misery.

“It’s okay,” She says gently. Lacy walks closer to you and you look up at her.

“I can’t help but feel like we’ve never really gotten along and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I did something to upset you.” Her words are so genuine that it makes you sick. She’s just so perfect and nice and it makes you feel awful.

“No no, you did nothing wrong. I promise. It’s all me.” She looks down next to you and you offer her to sit.

“I’m sorry if I came off cold, you’re really nice and It’s something to do with me.” You explain.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d really like to get to know you better if you want. Joel talks about you all the time.” She says. That catches your attention.

“He does?” You ask. She giggles and nods her head.

“Don’t tell him I told you but he really likes you, he just won’t admit it.” You can’t believe what she’s saying. It doesn’t make sense. He's so happy with her, and spends time with her. They’re perfect for each other.

“What? I thought you two were dating.” You look shocked as she shakes her head.

“We’re not. Me and Joel were both from the Boston QZ, I helped him out from time to time so we were kind of friends.” You guess that explains why he warmed up to her so fast but still.

“He won’t admit it to me but I know he likes you. He always wonders what you’re doing in town that day and when we go on supply runs he tries to subtly ask about things for you but he’s not very subtle.” She says, smiling as she remembers the shitty excuses Joel would make for picking up the tattered journal. He told her about you, that you used to keep one before the outbreak and you missed it. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t really seen him much lately…” You know it's partially your fault for avoiding him but he didn’t really make much effort to see you either.

“I told him to talk to you but he started to get nervous.” She says while rolling her eyes.

“Joel nervous?” You ask in disbelief.

“I know! He totally denied it when I asked. Said he doesn’t get nervous in that crabby voice he does.” She says while laughing.

“Oh my god he really does do that voice doesn’t he. Especially when he’s trying to reprimand Ellie.” You say while laughing with her.

“And she never listens.” Lacy adds. It feels nice to laugh with her. Though now you feel silly for feeling so jealous.

“I think I owe you an apology Lacy, the truth is I was jealous of you. You’re just, so amazing and cool and nice. I thought you were perfect for Joel and I just, I wanted to be perfect for Joel.” You admit sheepishly. "I shouldn't have avoided you the way I did."

“Thank you for the apology and it's okay. As for Joel, you are perfect for him.” She hugs you and it takes you a moment before you hug her back.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel’s voice makes you jump.

He’s come to check on the two of you. The butterflies you felt before come back in full force as you see him standing there. His eyes darting to your cut up hand.

“You should really get that fixed up.” He kneels down in front of you and checks your hand over. Lacy gets up and winks at you.

“I’ll leave you to it Joel,” She nudges him and he grumbles about something. She smiles and gives you a thumbs up before disappearing back inside.

Even though his hands are rough he handles yours with such care. Making sure not to hurt you as he checks for glass. He reaches into his small bag and pulls out a rag and wraps it around your hand.

“This’ll be okay for now but you need to put some salve on it and wrap it with a bandage.” Joel finishes wrapping your hand but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

His hands are so warm. You notice how tense he seems. He’s nervous. With the boost of confidence from Lacy you bite the bullet and speak.

“I like you. A lot.” You confess.

“I uh-” He doesn’t know what to say as you take him by surprise.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner.” Your voice gets smaller as you speak. Worried that you were right and he doesn’t feel the same.

“I got you somethin’” He reaches into his little bag and pulls out a small book.

“You told me about keepin’ a diary and well I found this and thought you could start again, if you wanted to.” He hands it to you, it's a little ripped but still intact. It’s clearly been patched up. The leather cover has been cleaned and there's a new ribbon around the center.

“Oh Joel, it’s perfect.” You run your hands along the spine in awe.

“I would love to go to dinner with you darlin’’” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Helping you up he takes off his jacket and places it on your shoulders.

“Let me walk you back.” He places his hand on the small of your back.

You glance in the window of the bar and see Lacy talking with a few people. She makes them laugh and this time you smile. She catches your gaze and smirks, seeing Joel’s jacket and him so close.

For once it feels like you can breathe, the bitter feelings are gone. It’s a new start, a new friend gained in Lacy and hopefully a new love that will last forever.

“Are you okay?” Joel asks as he notices you in your head. Looking over at him you smile and he pulls you closer.

“I’m perfect Joel, just perfect.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion brainrot #bg3 x you #reader insert #astarion oneshot #fluff #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion x gn reader #baldur's gate x reader #astarion imagine #astarion fic

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🖤

Eddie drives you crazy but you can't help that you're also crazy about him. Mia is new to Hellfire and watching Eddie moon over her brings all your barely buried feelings to light...

Warnings: Jealous reader, Jealous Eddie, confessions and sweetness. Kinda enemies to lovers, Eddie is a cocky lil shit in this.

18+, minors shoo!

Don't copy, translate or repost my work.

❤️

You could feel his eyes on you even though he was all the way across the room. Eddie Munson, was quite possibly the bane of your existence. Unbelievably hot yes, but a pain in the ass.

"Ignoring me again princess?" he teases and you glare at him, try to count to five but his smug smirk does nothing to calm you down.

"Bite me dumbass" you huff and Eddie looks delighted. Oh he just loved to get under your skin, wind you up until you were in knots about him.

You hated that he could make you feel like this, that he was the only guy you wanted. Not that you would ever admit it to him.

Even if you did want to kiss him senseless there was no way you were giving in. No way...

❤️

Eddie had been up the new girl in Hellfire's ass all day. She was pretty, into bands and like a female Eddie, according to the rest of Hellfire.

The way he showed off, acting his usual chaotic self to make her laugh, smiling all dimples and goofy charm. It riled you up to no end.

No, you didn't eavesdrop on Hellfire much... Which brought great amusement to Chrissy and Nancy, and frustration to you, when you heard them speak about Eddie and Mia, ugh Mia. She even had a pretty name too.

So you were pissed at Eddie for following her around like a love sick puppy, most of all you were furious at yourself for being jealous in the first place.

Stupid hot metalhead you grumble to yourself and your bad mood darkens even more when Eddie comes up to you, all swagger and his big brown eyes lighting up when he sees you.

You studiously try to ignore him and find your book for your calc homework, Eddie has other ideas and tugs your hair playfully.

Turning to meet him you level him with a glare. "You're such a child Munson" that gets you a little proud smirk.

"Haven't seen you around today princess" you feel flustered that he's noticed but don't show it.

"Surprising you noticed since you've been following the new Hellfire girl around like a puppy" Eddie's smirk widens, he looks like all his Christmas's have come at once.

"You jealous sweetheart?" he seems so smug, you scoff and shut your locker, trying to feign nonchalance.

"As if, I don't care who you want to fuck Munson" you snap and he looks delighted. Fortunately you're saved from further humiliation by Jackson.

Jackson who is part of the dark side that Eddie hates so much. A wicked idea forms in your head. Two can play at your game Munson.

"Hey gorgeous. You coming to my party tonight, got the kegs and a whole liquor cabinet to use" you don't really have any interest in this party but Eddie glaring daggers at Jackson catches your attention.

"Sounds like fun" you touch his shoulder and Jackson is all smiles until he spots Eddie behind you.

"What do you want Munson?'' he spits out and Eddie rolls his eyes and barely looks fazed by Jackson.

"Really princess. This dumb butthead is your type?" he sneers and the venom in his voice has you turning to face him, frustration fills you at his attitude. Why does he care?

"Shouldn't you go find your little girlfriend instead of worrying about me" you hiss at him and that delighted grin is back on his face.

Eddie lowers his head down, whispering in your ear. "We both know that asshole couldn't satisfy you sweetheart. Stop lying to yourself" he sounds so sure of himself and you clench your fists in anger.

"Fuck you Munson, I told you go and find your new girl and leave me alone" he still looks smug and winks at you.

"You're so beautiful when you're pissed off princess" he leaves then and you're still silently fuming.

You know what? A party sounds perfect.

❤️

Yeah... so it turns out the party is a bust from the start. Jackson gets blind drunk, picks a fight with Tommy who's back from college (thrown out according to Steve) and the party is broken up by Hopper.

That's when you made yourself scarce. Nursing a beer and wanting some peace and quiet, you end up at Skull Rock.

It was tiring avoiding Eddie and his pleased little smile whenever he saw you. Exhausting putting out a front that you hated him, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Turns out you're not alone at Skull Rock. After a few minutes you smell the scent of weed, Eddie's cologne as he joins you.

"Did you follow me here?" you scowl and he snorts and lights up a cigarette, there's still tension between the two of you from earlier.

"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart. Party was shit so I thought I'd come here" he's quiet for a few seconds and you can feel him staring at you.

"You know I was only hanging with Mia because she's new to Hellfire. Have to look after my flock" this makes you smile a bit, he sounds like a shepherd.

He growls frustrated when you don't answer and walks over to you.

"I don't want to fuck Mia, she's nice but she's not my type. No my type has to be you doesn't it? prissy, bitchy and you drive me nuts" Traitor tears prick your eyes and you force them back trying to hide your hurt.

"Charming Munson" he softens and tilts your cheek so you look up at him, stubbornly you do and he moves closer to you.

"You're also sweet, beautiful, kind and fiesty as shit and I love that, you're protective of who you love and that's the first thing I fell for"

Oh! you stop fighting what you feel, fighting him and drop your defences. Eddie's confession must have been hard but he did it and it gives you courage to confess how you feel.

"Really?" you ask and hate how hopeful you sound but it's nice just to lean into the feelings instead of always fighting them.

"Yes, hoping I haven't made an ass of myself and you feel the same" he murmurs and you take his hand, fingers brushing over his rings.

He gazes at you intently and his next words make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"How can you think I'd ever notice anyone else when all I can think about is you" He caresses your cheek and you melt into him.

"I've fallen for you too" you admit and his smile is all knowing, joyous.

"Oh I know baby, been waiting for you to have enough and kiss me" cocky shit. It makes you giggle though and you kiss him.

It's a hot, searing kiss that lasts for what feel like hours and has you and Eddie smiling like absolute idiots.

You had both been idiots but not anymore, Eddie seems to be thinking along the same lines as you and rests his forehead against yours.

"Could have been doing that for ages if you weren't so stubborn princess" you raise your eyebrow. Oh so you were stubborn but not him? You open your mouth to say something about this but Eddie kisses you again.

Oh well... You'd say something later, much much later.

🖤

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:

Face Me...

Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)

Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.

Word Count: ~4,426

Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general

Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.

Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.

A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.

"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.

"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.

"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."

"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."

He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.

"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."

"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"

"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."

"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.

"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.

"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.

You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.

"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.

"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.

"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.

"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"

"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"

You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.

"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.

"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.

"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.

"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.

"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.

"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"

"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.

"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.

"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.

"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."

"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"

"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."

You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.

"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.

"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."

"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.

"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.

"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"

His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.

"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."

You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.

"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.

Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.

"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.

"You want those? You have to do something for me first."

"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.

"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."

You blinked, rather stunned.

"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"

And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.

"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.

"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.

"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.

"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.

You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.

"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"

"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.

"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.

"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.

Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?

"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.

"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.

"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.

"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?

"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.

"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"

He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.

"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.

"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.

"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."

You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.

"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.

"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.

"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.

"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.

"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.

"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."

"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."

"How do you know, you've done that before?"

He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.

"I've read up on the concept, you know."

"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.

"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."

"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.

"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.

"You want me to choke you with this?"

"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.

"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.

"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"

"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."

"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.

"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.

"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."

"So you aren't a virgin after all?"

"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.

"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"

You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.

"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.

"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.

"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).

But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.

"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.

"I told you, you are my first prototype."

"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.

"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.

"What kind of man of do you think I am?"

"Is that yes or no?"

"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"

"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.

"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.

"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.

"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.

"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.

"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.

"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.

He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.

"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.

"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."

"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."

He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.

Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.

"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.

"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.

"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.

"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?

Maybe.

Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #arkham scarecrow #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy imagine #batman fanfiction #dr crane #dr jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #minors dni #cillian murphy fanfiction #jonathan crane x fem!reader #jonathan crane x you #arkham asylum #batman begins #dark knight trilogy #happy halloween #kinktober #my writing #winnie's writing

[victoryverse]

Virgin!Reader X Ghost?

Like its readers first time and he guides her through everything and uses his tongue to stretch her out?

Love your writing! Have a good day/night <3

Breaking In

simon riley x virgin!reader

words: 1k

18+, SMUT, oral (f receiving), p in v sex

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt as Simon leads you into his bedroom. Your heart is racing with excitement and fear, knowing that tonight is the night you will finally lose your virginity to your boyfriend. The thought of being so intimate with Simon, of him being the first person to touch you in that way, sends shivers down your spine.

But as Simon starts to undress you, your nerves start to take over. You've never been with anyone before, and the idea of having sex is both thrilling and terrifying. Simon notices your hesitation and immediately stops, cupping your face in his hands.

'Hey,' he says softly, looking into your eyes. 'It's okay. I'm here with you, and I'll make sure you feel good. Just trust me, okay?'

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease with his comforting words. Simon has always been patient and understanding with you, and you know he would never do anything to hurt you. He starts to kiss you gently, his lips moving slowly against yours. As you both deepen the kiss, Simon's hands start to explore your body, making you moan into his mouth.

He helps you out of your clothes, and you feel a little self-conscious being completely naked in front of him. But Simon's hungry eyes and the way he runs his hands over your curves make you feel desired and beautiful. He then removes his own clothes, revealing his toned body and hardened length.

'God, you're so beautiful,' he says, his voice full of awe. 'I can't believe you're all mine.'

Simon lays you down on the bed and begins to kiss and nibble at your neck, making you squirm beneath him. He moves down to your breasts, sucking on your nipples and eliciting moans from you. You feel a new sensation between your legs, a tingling and aching that you've never felt before. Simon notices your arousal and grins, knowing he's the one causing it.

'Are you ready for more?' he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Simon spreads your legs and settles himself between them, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He starts to kiss and lick his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat and desire. When he reaches your core, he spreads your folds open and takes a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit.

You gasp at the sudden pleasure, arching your back off the bed. Simon continues to lap at your folds, his tongue flicking and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan and writhe beneath him, feeling a delicious pressure building in your lower stomach.

'Simon,' you whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the new sensations.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. 'That's it, baby. Let go and enjoy it.'

With his encouragement, you let yourself give in to the pleasure, your body trembling and clenching as you reach your first orgasm. Simon doesn't stop, though. He continues to eat you out, prolonging your pleasure and making you come again and again until you're a moaning, quivering mess.

When he finally pulls away, you're panting and flushed, your body humming with satisfaction. But Simon isn't done with you yet. He sits up and spreads your legs wider, his fingers slipping inside your wet heat. He starts to pump them in and out of you, stretching you open and making you feel fuller than you ever have before.

'Fuck, you're so tight,' he groans, adding a third finger and scissoring them inside you.

You cry out at the sensation, feeling both pleasure and a slight discomfort. But Simon is quick to soothe you.

'Relax, baby,' he says, his voice soothing and gentle. 'I'll be careful.'

And he is. With his skilled fingers and encouraging words, he slowly stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. When he deems you ready, he moves between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. He looks at you one last time, seeking your permission and making sure you're okay.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You trust Simon, and you want this. With a deep breath, he pushes into you, slowly but steadily filling you up. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. Simon waits until you adjust to his size, peppering your face with kisses and whispering words of love and encouragement.

When he starts to move, it's slow and gentle, giving you time to get used to the feeling. But as your body starts to relax and the pain turns into pleasure, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and meeting his thrusts with your own.

'Fuck, you feel so good,' Simon grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pounds into you.

You moan and cry out, feeling a new kind of pleasure building inside you. It's different from what you felt earlier, more intense and consuming. You know you're close to your orgasm, and Simon can tell too.

'Come for me, baby,' he says, his voice strained with his own impending release.

With one final thrust, you fall over the edge, your body shaking and clenching around Simon as you come. He follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, both of you crying out each other's names.

As you both come down from your highs, Simon pulls out and lays next to you, pulling you into his arms. You're both sweaty and breathless, but you've never felt more connected and in love.

'Are you okay?' Simon asks, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You smile and nod, feeling a sense of contentment and fulfillment wash over you. 'That was amazing. Thank you.'

Simon smiles back, his eyes full of adoration. 'Anytime, baby. I love you.'

You snuggle closer to him, feeling completely at peace. Losing your virginity to Simon was everything you hoped it would be and more. You had trusted him with something so delicate, and he was careful and handled it with tenderness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

tell me if you like it! requests are open!

#call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #cod #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon petrikov #simon ghost #simon riley #cod ghost #simon smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #smut #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut

[bratbby333]

two is better than one

gojo x fem!reader x geto ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ nsfw mdni warnings: Threesome, drug use, language, praise/degradation, name-calling, rough sex, mild voyeurism, creampie synopsis: Newly single and looking for trouble, you find yourself in between two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. word count: 5.2k

“Fucking prick,” you seethe, taking yet another shot of tequila down.

Your skin is burning, and it’s not just from the liquor coursing through your veins. You’re fuming. Your boyfriend of two years dropped the ball on you earlier this week.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he states. "And I haven't for a while." He avoids your gaze. What a pussy. He’s seemingly so sure of this statement, yet still attempts to hide from confrontation. Typical. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this. It doesn’t hurt like it used to, though. It’s a toxic, cyclical pattern you’ve endured for years, and somehow grown accustomed to.

You look at the ground and can't help but laugh, shaking your head. You meet his gaze again, your eyes swimming with rage and disappointment, and head to your shared bedroom to pack some of your belongings. 

You pack as much as you can into a suitcase, and as you head to the door, you turn to face him one last time. 

"I'll be back later this week to get the rest of my stuff," rolling your eyes at him as you depart. There was no reason to fight this anymore.

To others, you seem heartless and cruel for the way you handled this situation. The truth is, you hadn’t been present in the relationship since the last time this happened. You anticipated the end from the moment he offered to "try again". You knew he'd never change, and you were too weak to leave first.

You blame yourself for putting up with his neglect for so long. You’re ashamed that you allowed him back in time and time again. Each time he walked away, it was you who was left to pick up the pieces. 

It’s time to take control of your life again, but why not have some fun first? Everyone copes in different ways, and tonight, your vices come out to play. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’re unsure of how many drinks you’ve had thus far, let alone how high your tab was now, but you couldn’t care less. 

All you want is to feel nothing at all. 

You rub the furrowed area between your eyebrows tentatively, stomach burning with liquor. “I need a cigarette,” you grumble.

Outside, you lean against the brick wall of the club, feeling the bass still pounding in your chest. Your ears are ringing from the change in volume, your eyes readjusting to the yellow cast of a nearby streetlight that contrasted the dim lights of the club. You don’t notice the dark man join you along the wall as you pull the cigarette cartridge from your purse.

“Need a light?” His voice is sultry and low, almost inaudible. 

Your eyes meet his and you raise your eyebrow at him, as if to let him know you’re wary of him, but nod and lean forward with the cigarette in your mouth, eyeing him the whole time. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and flicks the gear with his thumb. You inhale deeply and lean back, head tilted to rest against the wall again, then exhaling gently towards the night sky. 

Your eyes fall back on the mystery man as he sparks a cigarette for himself. He’s alarmingly handsome. Tall and dark. Broad, strong shoulders. Alluring. You can’t help but stare. 

He catches your gaze and you see a smirk curl at the edge of his lips. You feel a warming sensation run throughout your body, flushing your cheeks, and this time it wasn’t due to the tequila. 

“Suguru,” he states with a soft smile. 

“Y/N,” you respond. 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here when all the fun's inside?” he inquired. 

You roll your eyes at the corny nature of his question.

“Nursing a broken heart, if I’m honest,” you breathed out, looking away again and taking another drag from your half-smoked cigarette. 

Suguru nods, sensing you don't want to open up about it. He takes a puff of his own preroll.

You make small talk as you both work on finishing your cigarettes, enjoying a break from the noise in the cool, quiet evening. 

"Are you just now getting here?", you ask, trying to distract yourself from the inappropriate ache in your core caused by a man you've only just met. 

"Yeah, my friend and I are just trying to blow off some steam after work," he replies, taking another puff. 

"What do you do for work?" you ask, intrigued, wanting to know as much as you possibly can about the mysterious man standing before you.

"I'm a teacher."

"Nothing nobler than education. I commend you," you respond teasingly, tilting your head. He chuckles in response.

A teacher, you think. There's something sexy about a patient man who can lead, command, and discipline. 

There's a lull in the conversation, so you take the time to really drink him in. Finishing your cigarette, you notice how his sharp, defined features juxtapose the soft feathering of his long hair. He's unreal. He reciprocates, taking in every angle and curve of your face. Something unspoken is floating around the two of you, and after a few moments, Suguru breaks the tensioned silence.

"Your ex is a dumbass," he bites. "I would want nothing more than to fill your life with pleasure," he breathes out, seemingly frustrated. You smile. You hadn't been complimented in months. 

"You deserve to be worshipped..." he adds, pausing between his words. You watch Suguru's eyes run along your body once again. He admired the way your tight dress hugged you, clinging to your waist before tapering out at your hips. You curved so effortlessly, so beautifully.... "and simultaneously destroyed."

Suguru couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel you. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hands finding your waist, effectively pinning you against the wall. 

You bring your arms up to wrap around him instinctively, resting your wrists against the back of his neck. You inhale deeply. He smells divine. 

You gaze up at him, eyes wide. The sudden close proximity catches you off-guard. The difference in size and height between the two of you sends another pulse to your core. You're touch-starved. You couldn't remember that last time you and your ex had been intimate.

He chuckles softly at your reaction. Shit, you think, can he tell I'm getting turned on?

Feeling bold and newly free, you look from his lips to his eyes and back again. 

Message received.

He crashes his lips into yours. You moan at the force, prompting Suguru to trace your bottom lip with his tongue. The sensation between your legs only grows hotter. 

A grown escapes his soft lips, hands clawing hungrily along each others bodies, tongues battling for control, the shared taste of cigarettes and liquor making it even more arousing. Your bodies are fully flush against one another, one of his legs wedged between yours. You thrust your hips slowly, grinding against him. The contact against his firm thigh giving you the stimulation you had been craving for months. You moan into his mouth, your pussy throbbing against him. You continue to rut against him, his hands pulling you down to intensify the contact between his clothed thigh and your hot, pulsating core. This carries on for several minutes, but for you two, it feels as though no time has passed.

You pull away from him to catch your breath, eyes low and head dizzy. He groans at the loss of contact, but steps back a bit, allowing you to smooth your hair out and readjust your skin-tight dress. You didn't want him to know how much of an effect he already had on you, but he seemingly already knew after the show you had just put on; Get it together, Y/N. You guys had only just met, for Christ sake, regardless of how badly you wanted him to drill you outside the club. You step closer to him and kiss him deeply once more, pulling away but keeping your faces close. 

"Your taste is addictive, baby," he breathes out, eyes low. You smile to yourself. Let's have some fun, shall we?

"Maybe we'll run into each other again," you seduce, smiling wickedly at him before turning and walking back inside. Suguru huffs a bit, annoyed that you were leaving so soon, his desire for you growing even stronger. But his dark eyes flickered with excitement, watching your hips sway as you depart. Your defiant nature seemed like a challenge. And Suguru loved the chase. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You return to your seat at the bar. Your mind is consumed by the arousing interaction with Suguru. You wanted more. But, after spending two years with someone who wanted nothing more than to leave you, you thought it was only fair for you to be chased this time around. 

You cross one leg over the other in hopes to quell the sensations throbbing deep in your pussy, but it only added additional pressure. You huff softly. I need more tequila, you decide. 

You catch the attention of the bartender with a smile and motion with your finger that you'd like another round. As she returns with your mixed drink and shot, a voice emerges from just over your shoulder. 

"Put her tab on me," the voice states, sternly. The bartender nods, making the requested changes on her handheld system before going to cater to other patrons. 

You turn your head toward the unfamiliar voice, only to be met with the most beautiful pair of eyes you'd ever seen peering over the round frames of his sunglasses. Strikingly blue. He grins down at you, and your breath hitches in your throat, another pulse sent straight to your core. He's gorgeous. Platinum white hair. Tall. Slender. Violently confident and charismatic. Anyone who wears sunglasses at the club is either too intoxicated to make eye contact or just absolutely insufferable. But his seem to suit him perfectly. 

"Hello, beautiful," he smirks. His arm snakes around the back of your chair, his hand rubbing deep circles into your shoulder. You lean into his touch and stifle a moan that threatened to escape your lips, still recovering from your interaction with Suguru. You smile back up at him through your lashes.

"I'm Y/N", you purr, tilting your head slightly with a small smile. With all these beautiful men wanting your attention, you should have called it quits with your ex a long time ago. 

"Satoru," he replies, his free hand taking yours. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently, winking at you. You giggle at the cheesiness of his affections, but it was definitely working. He releases your hand and removes his arm from around your shoulder, taking a seat next to you at the bar. You turn to face him, and you notice him raking his eyes up and down your body, taking in every part of you, before his gaze meets yours again. 

"There has to be a reason why a stunning woman like you is drinking alone at the bar," he says smoothly. 

"I would return the sentiment, but it seems neither of us are alone anymore," you grin, pushing your hair out of your eyes. 

"I appreciate you paying for my drinks," you follow up.

"It's been a while since anyone's done that for me," you say, your appreciation swirling around your words. You sip from the cocktail straw in your drink, gazing deeply into his eyes. 

"Anytime. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak to you," he replies. 

You watch as his eyes run up and down your body again. Your cheeks flush and the pulse between your legs picks up again, and you recross your legs in an attempt to hide it. 

But there's no hiding from Satoru.

He leans closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. You glance down, his thumb rubbing gently on your soft flesh. Your breath catches in your throat, and Satoru smirks at the way your body is already responding to him. His mind wanders to what else he could do to you...to the sounds you'd make for him. 

He begins to speak, but before he can get anything out, another voice interjects. 

"I see you've met my friend, Satoru."

You lock eyes with Suguru, who's now standing beside Satoru. You glance between the two of them, panicked. Shit, you think. Not good. You had enough drama in your life from the past two years to last you a lifetime. And of course, being caught between two friends tracks for the kind of luck you have in your life. 

Before you start pleading your case, Satoru speaks up.

"Damn, so you got to her first, huh Suguru?, the white-haired man huffs out, directing his attention toward his friend. Satoru's thumb is still massaging your thigh, squeezing hard, as if to assert dominance.

"Yeah, I did. We had some fun out there didn't we, Y/N?" Suguru retorts, smirking down at you. Your mind wanders back to the way you were using his thigh for your own pleasure. Unsure of how to play this situation, you nod slowly, blushing, still glancing between the friends. Satoru smirks at his friend's comment. 

"So, are you guys going to fight over me or what?" you boldly ask, resting your elbow on the bar top and propping your head up, hoping to regain control of this situation. Satoru chuckles at your statement, glancing up at his friend.

"That won't be necessary, princess," Suguru says teasingly, directing his gaze back to Satoru, who gives a small nod in response. A coy smile spreads across both their faces, looking back at you. Your heart rate quickens and your eyes darken, and while you're unsure of what's in store for you this evening, you can't help but feel aroused. Fuck it...let's have some fun. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Shot after shot cascades down the trio's throats as the night carries on. With the music rattling through your chest and the spotlights bouncing off the walls, you find yourself getting lost in this moment. You felt free. Pure ecstasy courses through your veins. Your back is pressed up against Satoru, grinding your ass in tempo to the music. Suguru is sat in a booth, arms extended along the back of the chair and legs crossed, watching the whole ordeal, his erection becoming more difficult to conceal. 

You tilt your head back against Satoru's shoulder, peering up at him through your lashes, and his arm snakes around you. His hand finds its' way to your neck, massaging it gently. The contact only spurs you on, grinding deeper into Satoru's crotch. You can feel him grow harder against you, his other hand clawing at your hip, pulling you even closer. People lingered around the two of you, the dance floor of the club teeming with sweaty, intoxicated bodies, but it felt as though you and Satoru were the only people on earth. 

Your eyes maneuver through the sea of people around you and lock eyes with Suguru. He's smirking at the two of you. Even with the distance between you, you can tell he's enjoying the show. Maintaining eye contact with Suguru, you run your tongue along your upper teeth, grinding harder against Satoru. You see Suguru shift his weight in the booth, knowing he's getting harder watching the steamy interaction between you and Satoru. 

You turn around to face Satoru, wrapping your arms around his neck. Bringing his face closer to yours, you run your tongue vertically from his bottom lip to his top lip. He groans, grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Your tongues are battling one another for control. Soon after, you feel another body press up against your back, You break the kiss, Satoru removing his hands from around your neck to find your waist. You turn and see a smirking Suguru. He brushes your hair away from one of your shoulders, ducking his head down to gently suck on the soft flesh of your neck. You roll your head back and rest it against his shoulder, eyes lilting closed. You moan at the way his warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, sending chills down your spine.

Satoru pouts a bit, feeling left out. He uses two fingers to tilt your chin back so you can meet his gaze. Your eyes are glazed over, lids low, and Satoru chuckles at how fucked out you already look. He leans down and kisses you deeply again. Suguru is still suckling gently. He breaks away from your neck and brings his lips closer to your ear.

"Are you ready to go, princess?" Suguru asked, feeling you nod desperately against his shoulder, still making out with Satoru.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You're sat between the two men in the back of a cab, heading to the hotel you've been staying in since leaving your ex. Both of their large hands are placed each of your thighs. Your attention is on Suguru, kissing him deeply, tongues lapping against one another. You pull away, a thick trail of spit connecting the two of you. You turn to Satoru and give him the same treatment, mixing all three of your fluids together. Suguru groans at the sight and digs his fingers into your thigh before dragging his hand under your dress and over your panties to meet you in the place you crave him most. He rubs tantalizingly slow circles into your clit, making you rut into his hands.

"Feels so good, doesn't it, princess?" Geto asks you, teasingly.

"Your pussy is so hot for us," he continues, growling into your ear. You try to pull away from Satoru to fall deeper into the feeling of Suguru playing with your pussy, but Satoru grabs you by the back of the neck to prevent you from leaving.

"Stay right here, sweetheart," Satoru mumbles against your lips.

"Be good for us," he groaned out. You moan in response. Satoru's grip on your neck constricts and relaxes over and over, massaging your throat, and the throbbing in your pussy matches the rhythm against Suguru's hand. You place your hand on Satoru's bulge, palming him through his slacks. You mirror your actions against Suguru. You hear Satoru's breath catch in his throat from the sudden contact, and Suguru growls softly into your ear.

"That's it, baby, th-that's it", Suguru slurs out.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

After pulling up to the front of the hotel, Suguru hangs back to pay the driver while you and Satoru stumble up the marble stairs and through the entrance way, not wanting to break the contact between the two of you. You break away for just a second as you pass the woman who checked you in on your first night. You exchange small smiles at one another as you and Satoru walk by, her knowing about the situation that brought you and her to meet. Her eyes widen when Suguru catches up to the both of you and slings his arm around your waist, guiding you and his white-haired friend toward the elevator. Her surprise is soon replaced with elation, and she giggles to herself, happy to see you're finally enjoying yourself. Atta girl, she thinks.

The ride up to the 15th floor feels like an eternity. You're pressed up against Suguru, his back flush with the elevator wall, the two of you making out deeply once again. Satoru is on the opposite wall, palming himself to the scene unfolding in front of him. The doors finally part, and Suguru leans down and picks you up by your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and intertwine your finger behind his neck for support. He walks the two of you out of the elevator, Satoru hot on your tail. At the door, you break away from Suguru's lips to pull your keycard from your small handbag. Handing it to Satoru before reigniting the kiss with Suguru, you hear the lock disengage as he taps it against the keypad and pushes the door open.

Suguru drops you onto the bed before standing upright again, he and Satoru shoulder to shoulder, smirking at each other before peering down at you. The dominate energy of the two of them send chills down your spine.

"Isn't she beautiful, Suguru? I can't wait to ruin her". Your eyes widen at Satoru's brazen remarks. You prop yourself up on your elbows, bringing your thighs back together and blushing at the two of them.

"Don't get shy now, sweetheart, you were such a tease this whole evening," Satoru laughs out, leaning over you.

"You're gonna take what we give you and thank us after we're done with you."

"She's quite the vixen..you should have seen the way she blue balled me outside the club," Suguru growled back in response. His hands find the hem of your dress, dragging it up over your hips as you sit up more so he can fully remove your clothing. Laid out before them in only a black lace thong and matching bra, they drink in the delicious sight. They each remove their outer layers, discarding them across the room, until they're left in only their boxers. You run your eyes up and down each of their bodies. They look delicious. Chiseled from marble.

Suguru climbs onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He leans forward and grabs underneath your arms, dragging you up the bed so that your back is flush against his toned chest. You're sat between his legs, his strong, calloused hands holding your thighs apart as Satoru lays himself on the bed, settling his head between you thighs. Your breath hitches at the sight of his pretty blue eyes staring up at you.

Satoru kisses along your thighs, the warmth of his exhales teasing you, purposely skipping over your dripping cunt. You groan, bucking you hips toward his face, only to be held back by Suguru's firm grip on your hips.

"Aht aht, that's not how good girls ask to be pleased," Suguru murmurs into your ear, gripping your hips even tighter.

"Tell Satoru what you want, princess".

"P-please 'Toru, your mouth," you whimper out. Satoru's finger runs up and down your clothed slit, making you buck your hips again.

"You gotta do better than that," Suguru chucked, "Beg for it, sweetheart".

"Please, fuck me with your mouth. I promise to be good. I want to c-cum on your tongue. P-please, Satoru." Without hesitation, your panties are ripped off of you and discarded, Satoru's tongue delicately dancing up and down you slit before taking your swollen, needy clit into his soft lips, sucking hungrily. You tangle your fingers in his blond tresses, pulling gently. Satoru groans into your cunt, the vibrations bringing you even closer to the edge.

"You sound so fu-fucking good 'fa me, baby girl," Satoru stutters out, trying to speak and eat at the same time. "You k-know it's rude to talk with your mouth full, right ahh.. right, Satoru?", you try to retort. Satoru giggles into you and you hear Suguru's chest vibrate against your back with a chuckle.

Suguru's mouth hangs open, the gushing wetness of your pussy and the sounds you're making in response to his best friend devouring you fills the room. It's almost unbearable for Suguru to resist pushing Satoru away and taking you all for himself.

"She's a fiery one, isn't she, Satoru?" Suguru raises an eyebrow at his friend, who peers up from between your legs and nods in response.

"Mhmm, and she tastes so fucking good," Satoru murmurs against you in response, his tongue still thrashing against you. Satoru teases one finger against your hole before plunging it deep inside you. Pumping in and out rhythmically, he finds your g-spot with ease. He massages into you with the rough pads of his long, slender fingers. His lips latch around your swollen bundle of nerves, sucking greedily. You feel the coils tightening in your stomach, arching your back away from Suguru.

"I...ahh f-fuck..I'm s-so close, Satoru," you cry out, trying to close your legs around his face. Suguru pries your legs apart and holds them open.

"Let go, baby. C'mon, be a good little slut...cum for him. Show him how good he's making you feel," Suguru whispers in your ear. Satoru pumps his fingers deeper into you, sucking even harder on your clit. The tightness in your tummy finally snaps, eyes rolling back in your head, a small yelp leaving your lips. You feel yourself spray your release all over Satoru's face. His eyes widen in surprise before he laps up everything you give him, relishing in the way your sweet juices coat his tongue. You're shaking as he cleans you up with his tongue, riding the fine line between pleasure and overstimulation.

"Mmmm, you saw that Suguru?" asks Satoru, "We found ourselves a squirter". Satoru's tongue continues to lap you up. Suguru's eyes darken at that. He pulls his digit out of your dripping pussy, presenting it to Suguru so he can taste you, too.

Suguru can't take it anymore. He's been rock hard against your back this whole time, fighting every carnal urge that's raking through his body. When he finally gets a taste of you, the restraint he had been so desperately clinging to snaps. He sucks you off Satoru's fingers hungrily, eyes rolling back in his head at your sweetness.

Satoru scoots back as Suguru pushes you onto your stomach, your chest against the mattress and hips in the air, his head dipping to meet your cunt. He drinks up what Satoru so generously left behind for him before straightening up again, sliding his boxers off. He positions himself behind you, teasing your clit with the head of his thick cock. You groan at the sensation, the aftermath of your first orgasm still making your clit sensitive. You push yourself back against Suguru, only to be stopped by his hands taking a hold of your hips.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart", he says, still teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

"I want you inside me...need to feel you stretch me out...please, Suguru," you beg, trying to push back against him again. Suguru chuckles at this.

"Dirty slut is learning fast isn't she? Being such a good fuck toy for us."

With that, he lines himself up with your dripping hole, and plunges deep into you, giving you no time to adjust to how thick he is as he drives himself deep into you. Your slickness from your orgasm is the only thing saving you from his thickness.

Satoru leans down to kiss you, pulling his boxers off and discarding them. His long cock bounces out and sits rock hard in front of your face. You lick your lips at the sight of his pretty pink head dripping pre-cum, eyes half open, head bouncing from getting fucked into from behind.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart. You're taking me so well. Such a good little slut," Suguru gritted his teeth.

"C-can I please...oh-h fu-fuck...can I please suck you off, Satoru? W-want you to come down my throat," you stumble over your words, trying hard to keep your head upright as Suguru continues to drill into you, ramming directly into your sweet spot, his cock stretching you out so painfully, so perfectly. Satoru moans at your question.

"Thought you'd never ask..go ahead, princess. Be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth." His hand cups the underside of your jaw, keeping your head up for you.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue for Satoru, inviting him in. His hands tangle in your hair, wasting no time before plunging deep into your throat. You gag around his length, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion. Suguru is fucking into you so deeply, his powerful thrust pushing you deeper onto Satoru's length. Gagging and sputtering, you inhale deeply through your nose, adjusting to the pace before opening your throat for Satoru.

"Jesus Christ, she's fucking milking me," Suguru spits out, his unrelenting hips still plowing into you. You can only moan in response, the vibrations running from the back of your throat into Satoru's member, causing him to buck his hip, shoving his cock all the way down your throat.

"Such a pretty mouth..wrapped so tight around me..it's-it's so warm..o-oh fuck," Satoru rambles, one hand on the back of your head, the other under your chin, holding your mouth open for him.

Your stomach begins to tighten up again, and you desperately clench around Suguru. One of his hands leaves your hips and reaches around to start rubbing vicious circles into your clit. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you cry out around Satoru's cock, tears trickling down your face as your second orgasm rakes through you. The sight of you succumbing to Suguru's relentless strokes while choking and moaning around his cock was enough to push Satoru towards his own release, and he bottoms out in the back of your throat before shooting his come into your mouth. His hips sputter and he hunches over, holding your face against his pelvis. Your eyes are rolled back in your head, your own squirting orgasm making it difficult for you to keep upright.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth with a pop, your aching jaw still agape from Suguru continuing to slam into you, chasing his own orgasm. Your chest falls to the bed, unable to keep yourself up anymore, before you're lifted back up by Satoru.

"Stay with us, princess," Satoru coos.

"You're doing so good...let him keep fucking into you. You're taking his cock so well".

Suguru's head falls back, still pounding his hips roughly against your ass.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby," Suguru pants. You turn your head to protest, but before you can utter a word, Satoru's hand covers your mouth.

"Shut up and take my cum, slut. Be a good fuck toy and let me cream you." Suguru says through gritted teeth. You moan against Satoru's hand in response as you feel Suguru release inside of you, his hot, creamy ropes coating your insides. He trusts a few more times, letting your tight cunt milk every last drop out of him. When he pulls out, you feel your foundation waiver and you collapse onto the bed, your head falling into Satoru's lap.

It had been so long since you had a good fuck. You over-anticipated your body's capabilities..you had been out of the game for too long.

"You did so, so good for us, princess," Satoru says, you head resting against his thigh, trying to regain your composure. You can only hum quietly in response, eyes fluttering. The two men look at each other before looking back down at your fucked out body. Satoru rubs your upper back gently as Suguru massages your shaking thighs. You all sat like that for a moment, relishing in the pleasure still coursing through your veins, the hot smell of sex sitting heavy in the room. Suddenly, Suguru's deep, sultry voice cuts through the silence.

"Don't quit on us now, sweetheart. We're just getting started," he taunts.

author notes: whewww..this is my first story to welcome myself back into the content mines. this was a fun one to write. im def gonna do a part two (how would we feel about turning this into a multiple chapter story where y'all end up in a throuple heheheh....too much or no ((are we seeing the vision))?? lmk if im doin too much. but thank you so so so much for reading and engaging. ill be uploading even more soon. if u have any questions, suggestions, or concerns pls message me!!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo smut #suguru geto smut #gojo x reader x geto #satosugu #satosugu fanfic #satosugu smut #satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo #suguru geto #jjk gojo #jjk geto #gojo smut #geto smut #bratbby333

[the-dixon-effect]

Daryl Dixon - idiots in love headcanons

Daryl's never known anybody like you before. for the first time, a person has chosen him. you can make him feel loved just by talking to him, Hell, you can make him glow just by standing in the same room.

he thinks you're so beautiful. if love at first sight exists, which firmly believed it didn't before he met you, then this apocalypse was the best damn thing that ever happened to him.

it took Daryl a considerably long time for him to realise that his uncharacteristically affectionate feelings were love.

before Daryl realised he was in love, his brother used to constantly tease him about the way he was looking at you. he didn't even know he was doing it - "Whatchu givin' that girl puppy-dog eyes for, lil' bro?"

you two were definitely best friends before he confessed his love for you. you grew close during the prison era, and you were the first person whom he let his guard down in front of.

he can't stand to be apart from you. "If she dun' love me back, I can either be her friend or drive a thousan' miles west, an' never see y'all again," he had told Carol once.

his eyes inadvertently follow your movements, as if his subconscious felt like he needed to protect you.

everything somehow always comes back to you. a piece of jewellery he found on a run? Y/N would love that. the heating system in her house at alexandria's broken? he's fixing it tonight. in the meantime, he's at your door delivering a pile of woollen blankets. he spots a deer outside the walls? he's tracking it for days because he knows you love venison.

you love the way Daryl always steps into a situation to protect you. especially if it's another guy bothering you. he gets jealous so easily, and he doesn't even know it, like defending you is instinctual.

God forbid another man lays his hands on you. that motherfucker is already dead before you can object in the slightest.

Daryl is the only man you trust to talk about your issues with. he'd never pass up an opportunity to listen to your voice, but some of the things you tell him break his heart like nothing's ever done before.

you'll sweetly ask if he'd just hold you. and he wraps you up in his big arms and lets you cry softly into his chest while he places a hand in the back of your hair. rubbing sweet circles into the back of your neck. nothing could make you feel safer than Daryl's embrace.

after countless intimate moments like these, you start to wonder if he's like this around anyone else. surprise, surprise: he doesn't. and a part of him wishes you knew.

oh, but how much you adore him. you wonder if he knows how pretty he is; and how much you want to show him. his unkempt chocolate waves that perfectly frame his face, how much you'd like to tangle your fingers in them and kiss him all over.

you feel as though you owe him for all the times you've cried into his large, comforting figure. he occasionally brings up his past, his brother, his parents, and how much you want him to let it out. to hold him and wipe his tears away while you press soft kisses over his eyelids and cheekbones.

maybe one day, underneath some lucky constellations, you'd let each other.

taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders

#brandy writes #daryl dixon headcanons #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl drabbles #daryl fanfiction #daryl fucking dixon #daryl imagines #daryl the walking dead #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"Midnight troubles"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

Summary: an awkward moment, night patrol and a shitty girl later....

Contains: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used

Word Count: 2108

A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)

You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.

On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.

His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.

Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.

"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."

You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.

You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.

Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.

"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.

"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."

You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.

Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.

You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"

"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.

"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"

"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.

Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.

~~~

Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.

He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"

He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."

You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.

"What was that last part?"

"It's soft?"

"No, the other part?"

You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."

Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"

You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.

A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.

"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.

"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."

You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."

After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.

"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.

Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.

"Just paying you back for earlier."

You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.

Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.

Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?

Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.

Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.

You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.

"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.

"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.

The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."

What?

You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!

"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??

You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.

"It's y/n."

"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."

You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??

"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."

"I don't-"

She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."

WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?

The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."

Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.

What. The. Fuck?

The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.

"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.

"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.

Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.

It's dark and cold

You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.

He didn't deny it.

You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.

Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-

Your face crumples.

Luke.

He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.

Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.

A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.

And...

And its dark...

Shit.

Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.

That bitch better watch it.....

©strawberries-and-summer-days

a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfic #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[fettuccin-e]

Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

#*runs away again for another month* #Frankie the man that you are #always here to pull me out of a writing slump #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x fem!reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader

[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

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Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

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

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Thank you all so much for reading!

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#roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #the bloodline #smackdown #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x oc #wrestlemania

[thesmallonesblog]

Just a Jeonghan voice message sucking up to you basically...

Hey it's me. Your boy. Your fave. The one you dream about every night. At least I hope you do or we have a lot to talk about.

I know it's late and you're asleep or just avoiding my calls which if so, ouch. What if I was in danger, in need, lost and alone and afraid? Then what?

I know you're rolling your eyes at that last part.

I know depite the dramatics you're intrigued as to why I'm calling though.

The reason?

You.

After we dropped you off at home Gyu and I were talking and you know what he had the audacity to say to me? That you were going to get a restraining order aganist me if I keep staring at you the way I do. I told him to stop being so dramatic. He's just jealous that I don't give him the attention that I give you.

He didn't deny it either.

But it got me thinking. I don't think I told you once tonight how beautiful you looked. I was so caught up in taking you all in that I was at a loss for words when it came to telling you how you made my heart do backflips. I could have stared at you all night.

The way your whole face lit up whenever Hoshi told you one of his horrible jokes. The way your eyes crinkled at the corners, your laugh filling my ears like the purest music. How animated you got, almost like you were living every moment of the elabote stories Seungkwan kept telling you from our tour.

I can't get enough of you. I never want to get enough of you. I want to keep you close to me always so that I can see you enjoying life. To hear your laugh, To take in your beauty. My world is brighter with you in it. It's complete. I couldn't ask for amything more in this life. I feel so foolish for not being able to tell you this all in person. When I see you tomorrow I'm sure I'll tell you this all again and more. I just couldn't go to sleep without telling you.

And if you listen to this and happen to think 'Hey you know what, this guy is crazy and maybe I should get a restraining order' I'm blaming Gyu for manifesting it and it wont' be pretty.

Please don't let Gyu win this battle - it'll go right to his head and I'll never hear the end of it.

But more so, don't because I need you in my life, I want you in my life and I don't want that to change.

Ok, I think I've poured enough of my heart out to your voicemail for one night. I can't promise I won't do it again tomorrow night.

Maybe you do need a restraining order aganist me.

Ok, love you, miss you BYE

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svtcreations #svt fanfic #jeonghan