#i have not giffed in WEEKS so i made this for ME u know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ultralightpoe · 3 months

Text

S-L-U-T -Eddie Munson

Authors Note: this draft had been rewritten like 4 times and each time I just felt weird about it. I wrote half of part 2 and gave up so there will probably not be a part 2. I wrote this in August last year.

Word Count: 7908

Warnings: smut. (Awkward smut scenes) cussing.

(Thanks for the gif @madisondixonhopper )

Enjoy!

It starts with a skimpy top and a huge crush on the resident Metalhead of Hawkins.

You had been made….. graciously, as your mother always said. Like Aphrodite born into flesh, pretty and plush. And you had been raised to be proud of yourself in your skin, that was how you were made and there was no changing that so why bother pretending you weren’t fucking gorgeous?

You loved short skirts and dresses, you loved your chest and all the shiny jewelry. Earring to necklaces and rings, you loves decorating your nails and doing new looks with your hair. Makeup, though never needed, was fun fun to you. You had decided very early on that you liked how you looked and you liked dressing up. The town you had grown up in was always open to it all as well, you never once heard a single bad thing about your looks and often got asked for tips and advice from your classmates.

But then you moved to Hawkins.

You truly hadn’t expected your outfits to cause so much backlash.

As it turns out Hawkins Indiana was very against letting people love their skin, so much so that within a week of starting your new school you had already been branded with something you had never been called before. Slut.

They whisper it as you pass, giggling to one another as you do your best to keep the cool and confident composure because you refuse to let anyone make you feel less than.

The boys leer at your chest, and often drop things in hopes that you will bend to pick it up.

Enter Eddie Munson.

You had been at your locker one day, fixing your makeup in your mirror when another figure emerged beside it, some kid from your biology class named Lucas Elks? He had never said anything to you in the four weeks you’d been at this school, and a wave of excitement passed through you as you realize this might be your chance to make a friend.

He starts easy, joking about the crap lockers which makes you laugh. You ask him about the homework from class and he disregards that by saying “I don’t do homework.”

And just like that he redirects your conversation to your locker, taking his finger and knocking on it, which makes the mirror you had hung in it fall quickly, both your eyes falling to where it lands.

“How clumsy of me”. He smiles and you smile back, waiting for him to grab it before you realize he was waiting on you to grab it. Embarrassment clings to you at this, him watching you pull your dress down a bit to get ready to bend and grab it. His eyes fall to your chest as you begin to move to grab it, but before you can make it far a ringed hand dashes out to snatch the mirror, pulling it up quickly making you stand straight and make eye contact with the kid who saved you.

He, a beautiful brown eyed god, holds out the mirror casually before bowing dramatically with a smirk. “Milady.”

You laugh slightly, grabbing the mirror as he stands straight again. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Have a good day.” He smiles, waltzing off after that leaving you with the Elk kid.

“You know Eddie Munson?” Not yet.

“No. Never met him.” You murmur, eyes glued to where he disappeared.

“He’s a freak.”

An extremely respectful and attractive freak.

Most boys at Hawkins were crude and nasty, and they made their intentions known quite quickly.

You were struggling at this school and it was beginning to eat at you.

Until Steve Harrington.

He played the game well. He played all caring and kind in the beginning, never once looking at your chest and never dropping things for his own amusement. He lent you his jacket during cold classes and gave you rides home from school. You ate lunch with him and found yourself with a warm tingly feeling at the fact that you had a friend finally.

It truly helped that whenever you hung out with him the slut comments seemed to die down.

You loved your friendship with him, and not to mention that small crush that had been growing on Eddie Munson? It was full blown now.

You spent your days daydreaming about the Metalhead, how he would open doors for you or pick you up for a date. He would be the type to kiss your knuckles and warm your hands.

This was all imagination of course, daydreams formed from slight moments in passing with him. Like this morning when you were both entering the school at the same time and he held the door open for you as you dashed to escape the cold in your tiny dress.

He laughs when you slip, reaching a hand out to catch you easily and allowing you to enter the warmth of the school, keeping his hand on your elbow as you wipe your heels down from the snow.

“Not that I don’t think the outfit is cute, shouldn’t you at least wear a jacket?” He smiles, letting go of your arm when you are stable, bringing his hands up to blow hot air on them. A blush coats your skin as a burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you watch him, imagining him doing that to you.

“I-I didn’t have one that matched.” You mumble, feeling silly at the thought.

“Oh.” He nods, like it’s the most normal answer ever. “I get that. It’s a really cute outfit. Why ruin it?”

“I know it seems stupid. Why bother looking good if it’s freezing but I’m going to see a movie with my friend tonight. Pretty in pink? Have you seen it? Well I decided I would dress up-“ you were rambling, a lame rant that you’re sure makes you look stupid.

“Dress up as pretty in pink?” He smiles, and you nod lamely. “It doesn’t seem stupid. Sure it’s cold but if you’re a badass then you’re a bad ass. Can’t help it.”

He shrugs easily, hands moving to slip from his jacket to reveal a Jean jacket under the leather. You blink in shock as he holds the leather jacket out to you, a slight pink ringing his own cheeks.

“For me?”

“Yeah. It kinda goes with the outfit. I mean not a lot but kinda. Just in case.” He offers and you smile widely, reaching to grab the jacket and wear it. It smells like cinnamon and hot chocolate, and that burning feeling in your lower stomach is straight flames at this point.

You wondered if he knew how hot he was.

“Enjoy the movie, yeah?” He smiles, heading down the hall like he didn’t just make you want to jump his bones in the hallway.

“So what’s the plan Stevie?” You ask your friend once entering his car, still clad in Eddie’s jacket. “Heading straight to the movies?”

“Well…..the movie was canceled due to the weather.” He mumbles, shrugging. “Bummer.”

“Oh, okay. Are you taking me home then?” You blurt, feeling lame. You had been looking forward to hanging out all day.

“Well, since we already planned on watching a movie how about we just watch one at my place?” He offers, something gleaming in his eyes as he does.

“Okay.” You smile, this being the first time you hung out with someone in this town. “Sounds fun.”

So he takes you to his house, and puts a movie on. It gets dark quick due to winter and you both are sitting close together sharing a blanket for warmth as the movie plays in front of you.

You, still in Eddie’s jacket, are calm and relaxed as you keep inhaling the cinnamon scent of the jacket. That is until Steves hand coats your thigh under the blanket, your entire body going ramrod straight as you flush.

He leaves it there for a second, and you think that maybe it was just to sit there but then he slides it up, slowly until he gets to the dress and slides a hand under the skirt of the dress pulling a sharp gasp from you.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and you panic for a second. Is it okay?

I mean you didn’t like him like that, but if he liked you like that….. you didn’t want to lose a friend.

And that’s how you ended up laying on your back with Steve Harrington above you, your dress pushes up to your hips and your underwear tossed to the side.

He had slipped a condom from his back pocket, and soon enough he was thrusting into you, breathy pants falling from his lips as he closed his eyes and began to move.

And you feel guilty at the fact that you weren’t enjoying it, so you close your eyes and try your best to get into it, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s jacket as you relax your body and just imagine.

Soon enough it’s not Steve panting above you with short thrusts, it’s Eddie. The cinnamon smell of him easing you and the brown eyes making you melt.

It’s not Steves hand awkwardly pawing at your breast through the dress, it’s Eddie ringed hand. And finally, pleasure follows.

You go from feeling awkward and nervous to melting into it, moaning a bit as that fire feeling in your lower half starts rising, you were close…. Almost there if Eddie could just move a little to the left and -

You are snapped from your reality when Steve moans loudly and finishes into the condom, the high that had been building up falls flat and you can do nothing but blink up at Steve.

“Did….. did you want to finish the movie?” You ask lamely, and he sighs.

“Actually my parents are gonna be home soon. I should take you home.” So he does, you say nothing as you get settled in his car, keeping Eddie’s jacket wrapped tightly around you as Steve drives you home.

Once you are out of the car Steve drives off, and you make the short walk to your door in silence. It isn’t until you are safe in your room that you let the tears fall, feeling weird and lonely.

Without really thinking you grab the phone book and dig around until you find the number you’re looking for.

You curl up on your bed, knees tucked under your chin and the jacket wrapped around you as you listen to the phone ring.

“Munsons place. This is Eddie.” You hear him yawn through the phone and your heart starts beating quickly.

“Hey! Is… is this eddie?” You ask, before slapping your forehead. He just said it was you idiot.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hey, this is-“

“Pretty in pink. How was the movie?” He interrupts and your stomach flutters.

“We actually didn’t go see it, weather was too bad.” You mumble, the words feeling like a stupid lie on your lips as you realize they were indeed a lie. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, he merely hums through the phone.

“What’d you end up doing?”

“Oh just hanging out.” You lie, that gross feeling crawling across your skin. “I just called about your jacket.”

“Oh yeah! Cool. How about I grab it tomorrow? I can pick you up for school if you want?”

“That’d be great!” You smile, something blooming in your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Anything for pretty in pink.”

So started your friendship with him.

Every morning he picked you up and every afternoon he took you home unless he had dnd. When word spread about you and Steve you had panicked, Eddie hadn’t batted an eye.

Steve ignored you, so you began thinking that maybe if you ignored it all then it would go away.

No such luck.

The students at Hawkins do not forgive and forget so easily.

Even now, after a long summer and months between the event you found yourself the butt of the joke as you follow Eddie through the school on the first day.

You had spent a majority of your time at his trailer, sleepovers and movie nights a routine. He tried teaching you to drive and you bought him a slushee to make up for the heart attack you gave him at a bad turn.

You had gone to the lake with him in the skimpiest bikini you owned, and he did not once leer at your chest.

You had tried asking him out before, but each time he seemed to shut you down so you settled into the role of best friend, you would take anything you could get from him at this point.

“Slut.” Someone sneers as they pass which makes Eddie smirk.

“Excuse me”. He mumbles, making them stop. “I prefer freak. Keep it simple would you?”

“Whatever freak.” The cheerleader sneers and Eddie smiles watching them walk away before turning to you.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumble, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and playing with the worn out zipper on it. He merely gives you an easy smile and shrugs like it was no biggie.

“They called me a slut.” He jokes, pushing his forehead against yours. “You good?”

Right now? With him so close you can smell that fucking cinnamon and mint smell he always had, imagining him moving the last couple inches and planting his lips on yours? No. You were not good.

But you smile and say “yeah” anyways and his own smile widens before he pulls back.

It isn’t until you get to his locker that you work up the nerve to ask him…… again. “Did…. Did you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?”

“We watch movies all the time?” He laughs, not looking at you as he tries to open his locker.

“Well yeah. But maybe like…. At a theater? And you know…..” why were words so hard to process? “We could go together.”

“Oh. Hell yeah.” He smiles and you feel an excited hope spark in your chest. “I’ll ask the boys what movies are playing and we can all ride together.”

And you had been friendzoned by him once more, you try to smile through it, letting him kiss your cheek before heading to class.

The boys all really enjoyed the movies, and you would probably have loved it to if you had been able to sit by Eddie. But Gareth and Jeff had taken those seats which left you between Paul and Jordan. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them you just wanted to curl up into Eddie’s side.

Then, as you thought about it a little more, you realized that maybe the boys had thought about that too. Maybe they had talked about it and played intervention, it did seem like Gareth and Jeff lunged for the seats a little too quickly not to mention the fact that you had caught all of them talking about someone but the second you walked up they went quiet immediately.

They are were probably talking about you, oh god they all probably knew you had a huge crush on him and laughed about it when you weren’t there. This was pathetic and -

“Hey.” Someone snaps in front of your face. “We going?”

You blink, processing Gareth standing in front of you with a bored expression, taking a moment to realize all of them are standing in the aisle while you’re still seated.

“Oh…. Um yeah.” You rush, only to jump a bit when the movie continues.

“Holy shit.” Paul mutters and they all stare at the screen for the 2 minute clip that just rolled. When it’s done they all whirl back to you.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were waiting for the credit scene?” Gareth laughs. “I thought you were crazy!”

Ouch.

He walks off to freak out with the rest as Eddie shuffles closer, reaching a hand to help you up that you don’t take. When you avoid eye contact and pull your skirt down he growls out which draws your attention whether you like it or not.

“What?” You huff.

“Why are you looking at me? You mad at me?”

“No?”

“You avoided my hand.”

“I didn’t avoid your-“ you start to lie and he holds out his hand again.

“Then let’s go princess.”

You smile, slapping his hand like a high five and walking past, knowing he’ll get irritated.

“See! You’re mad about somethin’.” He starts after you, making the three steps before grabbing your elbow and sliding his hand down until it’s on your own. “Keep my hand warm.”

“It’s September. Barely even cold.” You smile, gripping his hand anyways as he leads you out of the theater and through the lobby.

The second you both enter the outside world a small curse slips past his lips as you gasp and immediately move closer, the two of you staying huddled together as you walk to his van.

The second you get there he opens the door, glaring at the boy taking your normal spot during group hangouts.

“Move.”

“Eddie! I never get to sit here man-“

“Jordon move.” He sighs, hands wrapping around you from behind in attempt to keep you a little warmer as the kid takes his time climbing to the back. Then Eddie is helping you into the van, hands on your hips to help you step up and make sure your tiny skirt doesn’t slide up.

You get settled in the middle seat right next to the driver seat as he launches in, turning the car on and blasting the heaters.

“You ever think about wearing more clothes?” Paul laughs.

“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?” You snap, panic immediately taking over as your skin heats up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-“

But he merely starts cackling as the rest of them do, Eddie laughing loudly as he squeezes your thigh while Paul elbows you a bit before looking out the window.

You’re proud of yourself because you just said something that made them all laugh, and for once you felt like you fit in with the entire group rather than just Eddie.

He squeezes your thigh again as he spins the wheel smoothly, hands flexing as he drives with ease. That heavy hot feeling starts up again, your skin going hot as you imagine what else he could use those hands for.

Imagining him dropping off the others before pulling over and sliding his fingers up your thigh until they got to your skirt, how his lips would feel against your own and-

The daydream is cut off by the loud rock music Paul turns on, the rest of them beginning to rock out as you tried calming yourself down.

Next came Josh Kelleck.

He was a grade above you, and he was really sweet. You didn’t know what to say when he asked you out but people were watching and you didn’t want to be the bad guy so you said yes.

And it was fun, you had been dating him for about 3 weeks and though it wasn’t rock your socks romantic you did have fun.

On the third week you have sex on the couch in his basement, you straddling his hips, rocking back and forth as he mewled below you with his hands gripping your hips. And you were actually getting into it.

Here’s the thing, you were a terrible person.

You weren’t getting pleasured by Josh per se. No no no. It was Eddie below you, it was Eddie gripping your hips as you bounced up and down , his hair that you currently tugged on.

At some point you zoned out Josh’s lame whines and imagined Eddie growling the way he had that night at the theater, glaring up at you.

You were struggling to get there though, if Eddie could just start lifting his hips to meet your bounces then you would be better.

“Can you…” you pant, gripping his hair again. “Maybe like thrust up?”

“Seriously?” The voice under you asks, and you blink slowly because hearing him actually talk ruined Eddie’s image. Shit. You were so close.

But it was too late anyways, Josh sighs before trying to thrust up to meet your own hips, only for his face to pinch up uglishly as he finished into the condom.

“Jesus. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s fine.” You mutter. It wasn’t.

He breaks up with you two days later, Eddie rolls his eyes when you tell him and a part of you feels like you might be annoying him so you smile and pretend like it’s fine.

“You don’t want to hear about my relationship drama.” You laugh. “Forget it.”

“I always want to hear about your dramas.” He mumbles, eyebrows pinching together. “I just don’t like how they treat you.”

Jesus. Why did he make the crush keep growing?

Closer to your birthday you try to hang out with the guys but they are all acting weird.

You ask Eddie during school one day if he wanted to go get food and he shrugs and says it’s a boys night. Guilt and embarrassment crawl through you as you realize that meant you were not invited and you smile and shrug like it was no biggie.

Leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly, enjoying the way his hand lands on your hip to keep you stable as you come back down before spinning to show him your outfit. He snatches your lip gloss as a joke when you almost drop it.

“What do you think today?”

“Outrageously cute as always.” He laughs, and you barely even care when two cheerleaders sneer as they pass, how could you when Eddie is looking at you like that?

He says his goodbyes, kissing your forehead before heading off to class and you feel giddy the rest of the day, by the last bell you realize he still had your lip gloss and you wanted to at least say bye before you walked home. So you trailed to the dnd room where you knew they would all be and fixed your hair in preparation to see Eddie.

You stop when you hear them talking about you.

It took you a second to realize it was you, and your hand was already gripping the metal of the handle to turn it when you did finally realize.

“-come on. It doesn’t annoy you that she sleeps around?” Jordon asks. “And that everyone in the school can always see her underwear?”

“You can’t always see her underwear.” Paul defends and you are grateful for him, something warm in your chest. “Just half the time.”

That warmth in your chest shrivels up immediately as they all laugh.

“I kinda like it.” You hear Eddie chuckle out. “She gives the world a show. No cares, confident and happy with herself. How can you not like it?”

At least he was defending you…..sort of.

“You just like that people think you’re banging her.” Jeff laughs and Eddie cackles at that, tears beginning to spring to your eyes.

Was this really happening?

“She complains all the time that she doesn’t like people calling her slut. Yet she never looks at how she dresses, like come on. Get a fucking clue.” Jordon laughs.

“Have you heard her? Girl has no thoughts going between those eyes.” Micah Hughs laughs loudly, the freshman they had just allowed join the group.

You had to get out of here, had to find somewhere else to be and-

In your panic to flee you trip over your own heels, landing awkwardly on the floor and in your panic to stand up you don’t hear Gareth come out of the door to use the bathroom.

It clicks shut, making you whirl to see as he stares at you wide eyes while you let the tears fall freely as you manage to pull yourself up. And it’s made so much worse when you have to tug your dress down your hips to cover your underwear from how you had fallen.

Of fucking course.

“Did you hear-“ he blushes, beginning to gesture to the door behind him before you blink.

“Huh? No. I was c-coming to grab my lipgloss and I fell. Kinda hurt.” You lie, swiping the tears away even though more kept coming.

“You want me to get Eddie? He can drive you home if you're hurt.” Gareth mumbles, looking a bit relieved since you had said you didn’t hear.

“No. I’m just being silly.” You try to laugh, cringing at how airy and vapid it sounds. Micah’s words clinging. “I’m gonna go.”

“Don’t you want to grab your gloss?”

“Oh! I have more at home, no worries.” And to get rid of that suspicion laced on his features you move to walk away.

“I just didn’t want people seeing my walk home in anything but my best.” You giggle, turning and waltzing to the doors like you weren’t truly crushed by what just happened.

You play sick the next two days.

You left a voicemail to Eddie’s home while you knew he was still as DND, probably laughing at how slutty and airheaded you were, saying you wouldn’t be at school since you were sick so he didn’t come pick you up.

Spending the first day trying to write it all off, figure out how to move on.

By the second morning you tell your mom to send him away if he knocks, which he does at 6:50 right in the dot. She tells him you’re still sick and you hear him ask if he can see you before he heads off.

“She’s sleeping.” Your mom lies and Eddie thanks her before leaving.

You feel nothing but stupid as you watch his car take off from your window.

She won’t let you call out for a third day so you get dressed and walk to school before Eddie has the chance to pick you up.

You spend the day pulling down your skirt as much as possible feeling dirty at every look you got when normally you wouldn’t have minded.

When Eddie spots you at your locker between classes he gives you a weird look.

“You wanna tell me why you walked today?” He snaps, leaning against the locker next to your own.

“I needed the air.” You lie.

“Okay. Well maybe next time let me know so I don’t show up like some idiot?” His voice is laced with irritation and you think about Micah’s words, something snapping in you.

“I don't need rides anymore.” You snap, watching his face go from irritated to shocked and straight to confused within seconds.

“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”

“I just won’t be-“

“Are you mad at me?” He blurts. “If you are, tell me so we can figure this out. You don’t need to walk everyday, and I was just irritated about this morning. I didn’t mean to be a tool about it.”

“I don’t need rides anymore. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You shrug quickly, slamming your locker and moving to walk away. He rushes to step in front of you.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I gave you attitude about this morning. Okay? Please don’t punish me-“ you can’t hear anymore, a bitter laugh crawling up your throat as you shove past him, feeling tears spring to your eyes when you have to fix your skirt.

You opt for jeans the next day, and though they chafe against your skin and you feel weird you are also glad you don’t have to keep pulling them down.

And since you donned sneakers your ankles weren’t screaming at every step.

But you still didn’t feel right….. this didn’t feel like you.

“You eating lunch with us today?” Jeff asks, walking alongside you after math, his eyes continuously falling to your legs.

“No. I have to do makeup work for science.” You lie, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll tell Eddie then.” He nods, holding his hand out for a high five which you ignore and walk off.

Ignoring Eddie after school had been easy since you took the side exit out and cut through the woods to get home.

Immediately hiding in your room to do homework before you hear the familiar sounds of his van pull up and hear it slam shut aggressively.

Rushing down the steps the second he pounds on the door and opening it just a crack to see him panting.

“Glad to know you made it home.” He grunts, pushing past you into the welcome hall of your home. Before you can say anything he shoves something at you.

A small bag, from the store, and when you open it you see flu medicine and tissues with a box of chicken noodle soup.

“Jeff said you still weren’t feeling good so I got you some stuff.” He mumbles, seeming to detense a little when he rolls his shoulders. “I was worried when I didn’t see you after school.”

“Sorry.” For what? Not wanting to be near them?

“What’s with the jeans?”

“Cold.”

“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” He blurts.

“I’m not.” You lie again, shrugging. “I have to do homework and stuff. I’ll see you at school okay?”

“I can pick you up.”

“I’m good.”

“Princess, come on.” He snaps and you open the door to let him out, still not meeting his gaze when he storms out.

The makeup is the next to go.

You toss and turn all night, feeling embarrassed and miserable, and it’s nearly 4 when you fall asleep. You wake up late for school and jump to throw on a sweater and jeans, booking it out the door as fast as you can and dashing to school.

You miss first period and get a detention slip, people stare in the halls and you just feel miserable.

It’s made worse when Eddie finds you in the science room during lunch.

You had been napping, forehead pressed to the cold table, since you hadn’t slept last night. But that’s ruined when you hear the stool beside yours screech and you jump straight, eyes wide as Eddie tries to smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbles, reaching his hand out to rub your arm in an attempt to relax you. “Still feeling sick?”

“Yep.” You lie, looking away. He reaches out to feel your forehead for a temp and you let him, enjoying the small amount of contact you can get before you go back to avoiding them.

He sighs at the feel of your forehead, closing his eyes a bit while he looks like he’s debating something. “Fuck it.” He mutters before moving to stand, pushing your legs apart and standing between them as he shoves your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.

The second he has you in his arms he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head a couple times.

“What are you doing?” You mumble.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to hug you.” He admits, holding you a little tighter. “How about we go to the diner tonight? I’ll even get you a milkshake-“

“I have detention.”

“Since when do YOU get detention?” He scoffs.

“I was late this morning.”

“You’re sick.”

“Tell that to the teacher.”

“I fucking will. Is it Mr. Rojas?! I’ll go talk to him right fucking now because that could go on your file and-“ he’s ranting as he moves to walk away, until you grab his leather jacket and pull his attention back.

He stares at you, eyes glued to your own while he just takes you in. And then after a moment of silence he whispers “you’re scaring me.”

“Why?”

“You’re not being you.”

“I…..” you try to find something to say, but can find absolutely nothing and just manage to shrug. “I’m tired.”

You expect him to get the hint and leave, but he shrugs back as moves to sit on the stool he started in, pulling out his Dnd book as you lay your head down.

After a moment you feel him start rubbing your back and let sleep claim you.

Eddie was miserable.

There was something wrong and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it which was beginning to piss him off more. You were mad at him, he knew that. And suddenly you don’t want to dress up anymore? What the fuck?

Since when have you ever…. God did someone say something to you? Did someone make a move on you? Was he too much? Shit he had to have made you feel uncomfortable somehow.

If that was true he would kill himself. If he harassed you in anyway then he would jump off the cliff-

“Hey.” Gareth greets, looking nervous.

“Hey?” Eddie greets back, eyes snapping to where his friend stands in front of the porch where Eddie is sitting with a cigarette in hand. “Why are you here?”

“I came here about princess.” Gareth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why?” Eddie snaps out, feeling protective. If Gareth did something to you-

“She heard us.”

“I’m sorry?”

“That night at DND whike everyone was shittalking her? When I went to use the bathroom I saw her in the hall.”

“I wasn’t shit talking her-“

“No. But the other boys were and I know she heard them. She was crying and-“

“WHY DIDNT YOU SAY SOMETHING THEN?!” Eddie yells, flicking the cigarette away and moving to his van.

“Where you going man?”

“To talk to her.”

He doesn’t knock this time, he already knows your parents aren’t home and so he storms in and slams the door shut before he takes the stairs 4 at a time and waltzes into your room quickly.

Flicking on the light switch he sees you snap awake from a nap, reaching a hand out to your exposed ankle and dragging you down the bed.

“Rise and shine princess.” He greets, as you try to register what’s happening.

“Why are you here?” You snap, trying to wake up.

“When we’re you going to tell me you heard?” He snaps back, face getting into yours. “Huh? Just gonna be mad forever and stop talking to us?”

“Yeah! Maybe!” You scoff, eyes staying on the floor beneath him as he tries not to lose his shit. Look at me look at me lookatme.

Finally he loses control, hand flying to your jaw to make you look up. “Look. At. Me.”

“Why?! So you can run and tell your friends-“

“I didn’t say anything bad-“

“YES YOU DID!”

“NO I FUCKING DIDNT!”

“You said ‘she puts on a show, no cares’ and-“

“You do put on a show! I put on a show! This town is so fucking boring they they are begging for drama and we just so happen to provide most of it. What’s the fucking problem with me calling it?”

“Then you laughed when Jeff said-“

“I KNOW WHAT JEFF SAID!”

“YOU LAUGHED!”

“BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IVE BEEN PINING AFTER YOU!” He screams. “I wasn’t fucking laughing at you I was laughing at myself. And I’m really frustrated that you would think I would ever laugh at you for something like that.-“

“Okay so you didn’t say anything. You let others say it.”

“Since when do I have any fucking control over what they say?”

“Oh please. We all know you’re their fucking god. You snap your fingers and they all get on their knees. Yet somehow I’m the slut-“ his hand grabs the back of your neck then, pulling your face into his own aggressively as his lips finally meet yours.

He nearly melts at the touch, body fizzing as his stomach does waves.

You kiss back, thank goodness for it, wrapping your arms around him as his other hand snakes around your waist. After a minute you both pull back, eyes wide as stare at eachother.

You’re the first to move after that, pulling him back in to keep making out, which he happily does. You slide your hands under his leather jacket, sliding them across his chest until your pushing the jacket off.

He has to remove his hands from you to help you get it off, which leaves him cold and he tries to reach for you again only for you to step back and tear your sweater off.

“Wait-“ he blurts, heart stopping as your eyes widen.

“I’m so sorry. That was- oh my god I thought you wanted-“

“I do. I do I do I do. But I only want it if you want it.”

“I’m sorry?” You blink. Shit, we was gonna pummel Steve Harrington and that other fucking kid.

“I only want to have sex if you want to have sex. I don’t want you to do it because you think I want to do it.”

“I….. I want to do it.”

“You hesitated.”

“Eddie-“

“I just want you feeling comfortable and-“ but you are leaning up to kiss him again, a growl slipping past his lips into your own as you moan out quickly.

You reach for his belt buckle and he helps take it off, jumping from his pants as he tears his shirt off and tries to kiss you again before you reach to take your pants off.

“I like when you….” He starts, moving to help with your pants, all but tearing them off.

“You like?”

“I like when you defend yourself. When you snap at me and argue with me. I like that fucking fire.” He smiles. “It always makes me really hard. But I don’t like when you shut down.”

“I haven’t shut down-“

“You have.” He interrupts. “And you fucking scared me. I don’t think you’re a slut or anything else. I’ve always admired you for everything. You hear me?”

“I….” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating through your chest and your lungs constricting. “I just-“

“I get it. Maybe you need a break from the dresses and I’m all for that. Hell, I’ll take you to get jeans anytime you want. And I love your face, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, with it without makeup. But baby these past couple days you-“

“I just was embarrassed.” You admit. “I felt disgusting and-“

Before you can finish your sentence he sighs out, looking to be in pain as he crawls over you until his forehead is resting on your chest and he collapses on top of you, keeping you held close. “Imsosorry.”

It’s muffled since his face is pressed into your skin and he wraps around you like a koala bear. “Imsosorry.”

“It’s fine.” You lie.

“It’s not.” He snaps, sitting up a bit. “It’s not fine. I’m so sorry. You were feeling this way because of all that shit and- you were never supposed to get hurt because of me. The rest of the school is bad enough but I wanted you to feel safe around me and-“ he breathes out, tightening his arms around you if that’s even possible.

“It’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” And you don’t know why, but you feel the safest you ever have in his arms, letting him hold you and you both somehow managed to fall asleep.

When you woke up you were both still stripped to your underwear, but the comforter had been pulled up and your face was pressed into a pillow with hot puffs blowing on the back of your neck making you giggle as your body shudders.

He wakes up at the movement, the arm wrapped around you pulling you in as he blinks away the grogginess. “What’s wrong?”

“You were breathing down my neck.” You admit, laughing when he does it again on accident before turning so you were facing each other rather than spooning you. He takes to rubbing slow circles on your lower back where his hand sits, first a star and then a heart. His eyes are still closed, on the cusp of waking and dreaming still, his mouth opened partially.

“We didn’t have sex.” You whisper.

“Then why am I so tired?” He mumbles back, making you roll your eyes at his joke.

“I think….. it’s weird that we haven’t done it and yet this feels so much more warm and intimate than the…. Others.”

“You deserved better.” He grunts, eyes cracking open just the slightest bit.

“It wasn’t bad, it was just-“

“Did you cum?” You choke at his questioning, eyes wide as his own open up fully to watch your reaction.

“I’m not telling you that.”

“That’s answer enough.” He chuckles lowly before going a little serious. “Did…. Did you want to cum?”

“I……” your body is hot, and you’re sure he can feel your heart beating through your skin and into his. Finally, you let out your breathy answer. “Yeah.”

“Can I…. Can I make you?”

“If you want.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. But you know the second his eyes glaze over with a heated determination that he wants nothing more.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, not as his hand slides from your lower back down to your ass and feeling the skin there in slow circles.

Then he moves his hand to your thigh, pushing a bit so you’re laying on your back while he stays on his side, his palm sliding across your skin slowly, warming you up even more.

“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters, eyebrows pinching together as he gazes down at you. With his hair a little wild from the sleeping and his eyes still glazed over you can’t seem to look away. “So freaking beautiful.”

He hadn’t even started yet and you were already a blushing mess beneath him, finally looking away to cover your face as his finger begins tracing around your panties.

“No no no.” He whines, pressing his face into yours as he begins leaving lazy kisses. “I want to see your face. Let me see you.”

“You’re making me nervous.” You growl out as his finger toys with the waistband of the lace fabric.

“Am I? Because I’m stating a fact?” He laughs lightly, nipping at your jaw before you finally move your hands and his smile widens from ear to ear.

“Eddie….” You blush, getting ready to tell him to shove off before his finger finds purchase between your folds, pulling a gasp from you as he laughs.

“Take a deep breath now.” He teases, rubbing softly and moving to keep kissing at your face, bringing his thumb to help his ministrations.

You moan when he presses that magic spot and you hear him gasp from beside you. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.” You nod a little bit too eagerly.

And with that he pushes two fingers into you, biting your earlobe as you moan, before he begins moving them in and out.

“Is this good?”

“Just…. Maybe….” You don’t know how to explain it, and you don’t want to make him feel bad so you shrug. “It’s good.”

“Bullshit.” He laughs. “Show me what you want.”

So you do, his tone making you more confident as your own hand slides down to cover his. “That’s it. Show me how you like it.”

You do, using your hand to guide his own, his two fingers pressing in and out of you as his thumb begins rubbing at your clit making you shudder in pleasure.

“Oh…” you gasp, the heat in your lower gut beginning to tighten. And then he curls his fingers and your back arches, a louder moan falling from your lips as he kisses at your shoulder.

He does it again, speeding up his thumb as your eyes clench, that tight feeling getting worse. Your stomach coiling as your legs shove together in panic.

“Wait-“ you rush, not understanding the feeling.

“Trust it princess.” He growls. “Be my good girl and let go, yeah?”

“Ed’s, no-“ but it’s too late, a cry slips from your lips as your high comes, that feeling finally uncoiling as your body shudders.

“God. You’re fucking Beautiful.” He growls, pushing his face into your neck to kiss you as you breathe in and out and begin relaxing again.

You’re body grows heavy, sleep edging at your vision but you sit up and move for the waistband of his boxers before he stops you, shaking his head. “Not about me tonight. Okay princess? Just let me hold you.”

And so you do, feeling a little weird at the fact that he wasn’t immediately jumping up to leave, closing your eyes as you finally cave into the sleep.

The next morning, to your shock, he sits at the end of your bed and watches you get dressed with narrowed eyes.

You start with the crappy jeans you had been wearing, but sigh when you realize they were still caked in mud at the bottom and slipping them off to search through your closet once more.

He watches, not saying anything at first but then he stands up abruptly and shuffles closer to move past you and dig through your closet for you and snatches a cute skirt with the top you always wore with it.

You watch with raised eyebrows when he hands them to you.

“You want a longer skirt?” He offers when you seem to hesitate. “I didn’t see another pair of jeans in there.”

“Maybe… a longer skirt.” He smiles at the answer, a purely happy smile, before he dives back in to search while you move to finish getting ready. He finds a longer, knee length skirt that still matches the top and moves over. Bending down and tapping your calf to tell you to step into the skirt. Using him to help you stay stable and letting him dress you in the skirt. His hands slide against your skin, and he zips it slowly before they slide up your abdomen up to your neck and to your jaw as he smiles. His thumb rubs your skin before you pull back. “Don’t mess up the makeup.”

“I would never.” He grins wolfishly gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for a deep kiss that definitely messes your gloss up.

You growl displeasure but kiss back just as heartily.

At lunch you don’t have a chance to hide in the science room, Eddie is waiting at the door and pulls you away with his arms around your shoulders. He pretends to faint, dragging you both into lockers as you laugh loudly.

“You gonna come eat with us?” He asks softly.

“No….. but maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Okay, well I can take you home after school or maybe…. You’d want to- okay how about we go get dinner. Just you and I.” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sounds great.” You smile. “See you after school then?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby.” He smiles, kissing you once more before heading into the lunch room.

There was a lot of work to do to make everything right again, and Eddie had to start. Today he would be setting things straight with his friends.

992 notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 8 months

Text

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. Joel isn’t too happy and has to punish you in the best way he knows how.

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Mean!joel, swearing, arguing, brat tamer! If you squint, drinking, teasing Joel, a slight comment about cheating but would never, rough!joel, spanking,choking,spitting, manhandling, sir!kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, pet names (little girl, little one, baby doll, Joel calls you a crazy bitch oNCE, etc) power dynamic, big girthy age gap (not specified but enough to where you call him old man) slight bullying of peepaw for forgetting stuff, rough sex. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

Word Count: 3K

This is 1000% based on this gif @worhols sent me 🖤 love u Becca

Even though your Saturday morning was filled with a shift at work, you couldn’t wait to get home to see your man and take all afternoon to get ready for your date at 7. Date night was far and in between now for you two, so some fun outside the house was what you were needing. Your key entered the lock on the front door and turned, pushing the door open to music echoing from the basement.

The kitchen counter was covered in beer boxes and bottles of liquor, chips, and Joel’s case of poker. What the fuck?

“Joel, honey?” You called out and you could hear the thumping on the basement stairs from his boots getting louder as he got closer to the main floor.

“Hey baby doll, what’s up? How was work?” The back of his hand wipes his forehead slowly, gathering all the sweat off of him. The look on your face was so telling that something was bothering you.

“Work was fine, uh I’m wondering why there’s shit all over the counter like you’re going to have guys night in the basement?” You crossed your arms across your chest and met his eyes, his jaw slowing the gum chewing down as he thought carefully of what to say next.

“Beeecause we’re playing poker tonight in the basement…” It came out more as like a question and then it became apparent to you he completely forgot about your date night.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, “Joel…we were supposed to have a date tonight..did you not remember?”

For such a tan man, you didn’t think he could turn so pale with shock. His hands met his hips and he sighed, looking down at his boots.

“Darlin’ listen I- I’m sorry I forgot we had plans. Tommy asked if we could do it here and it slipped my mind about date night tonight.” Those beautiful brown eyes found yours once more and made your body shiver with sadness and anger. “How did you forget when I’ve been reminding you all week? Jesus Christ, you don’t listen to me, old man.” You turned and started to take off your jacket, not wanting to say anymore than what you already have.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone with me little girl. I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing, Joel. I don’t want you to do anything except go down there and have a fun time with your friends and play your stupid fucking game. I should ask one of them to take me out because if you can’t remember a simple date, maybe they can show me a better time.” The smartass tone was dripping off your words and it only heated the situation more.

“What the hell did you just say?” His head cocked to the side to make sure he heard you correctly. The smirk on your face only made him more irritated and he was just about to ask you to repeat yourself when he was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Saved by the bell, go figure.” You muttered at him and went to open the door leaving Joel standing there in a mix of emotions. You’d never in a million years date his friends but you just wanted to get a rise from him. It was only fair he was in a shitty mood after putting you in one.

You greeted them all with small ‘hellos’ and smiles, Tommy engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you playin’ poker with us tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he releases you from his arms, walking to Joel and hits his arm lightly. Joel is still clearly caught off guard from your snappy digs and doesn’t say anything to anyone.

“Oh, no. No poker for me. Joel forgot to mention it to me, guess that age is starting to catch up to him, huh?” You joke, putting the clean dishes away that were still in the strainer. All the guys laugh and Tommy nudges Joel right in his side with a stupid grin on his face.

“You just gonna take that from her? Man you’re soft now.” He says to Joel and laughs again. Joel looks up at you and burns imaginary holes into your back from staring so hard. “S’alright, she’s jus’ being a brat right now. Why don’t you guys grab the shit from the counter and we’ll start soon?” Joel asks and nods to the countertop in front of you as you stand against the cabinets and squint at him. They grab the stuff and start to head down, a few of them and Tommy hanging back to wait for Joel.

He walks to you and grabs your wrist by your hip and squeezes it, whispering in your ear, “Knock it off. Now.”

You snatch your wrist from him and he places a rough kiss on your cheek, barely pressing his lips to your skin. He was pissed off at you for even entertaining that stupid idea of you and his friends to him.

“Yes, sir.” He clocked your sarcasm instantly and glared at you. Your eyes met his only for a moment as he turned around on his heel and headed to the basement. With a short moment he disappears down the stairs and you’re left sulking in your emotions. This wasn’t the first time he forgot date night, this was actually the fourth. If Joel thought he could start to get comfortable and not put in so much effort for taking you out anymore, boy did he have another thing coming.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” you mumble to yourself and clean up the mess he left of grocery bags and receipts.

After about an hour cleaning up the main floor and having to listen to Joel's laugh carry up the stairs and into your ears, you had enough. If he wanted to play, you could play too.

Going to your shared bedroom, you start going through his closet and grab one of his old white t-shirts he had made up for work years ago. Their logo on the back left more room in the front to see everything under it. Slipping on your shortest pajama shorts and hiking them up just under your ass, you giggled at yourself in the mirror and almost changed your mind when you noticed your dress hanging in your closet that you planned to wear tonight. With the sunset slowly turning blue for the night, that burning fire in you started to reignite.

You make your way slowly down the steps with the laundry basket tucked into your side, clearly your excuse to even go down there. The men were circled around the table, music still blaring and the string lights glittering the ceiling. “No no no, so then I told her to stop usin’ her teeth, it-” You cleared your throat and Tommy shut up quickly, turning around to face you. Joel didn’t even bother to look up until they greeted you, much different than earlier now that you were half dressed. His eyes were zeroed on on your body, his nostrils flared and the cards being held in his hands slowly started to bend.

“Don’t mind me, just here to do some laundry before I go to bed.” That was a bold face lie. Joel knew you weren’t going to sleep. He also knew you weren’t down here to do laundry, you hated doing laundry.

“All good, girl. You’re no bother to us.” James said, the one who had been eyeing you since you tiptoed down here.

You opened the dryer to empty it in the laundry basket, bending over more and more with each scoop inside to get clothes out. Joel coughed loudly when he noticed what you were doing and it made you jump, not expecting him to be so obnoxious with it. “You doin’ alright baby? Need another beer?” You ask a little too sweetly and he doesn’t blink once when you meet his gaze after standing up straight, a stupid smirk forming on your lips.

“Sure, f’you wanna get me one.” He grumbled.

You wandered over to the small fridge in the corner with a piece of clothing tucked under your arm and grabbed a beer, walking over to him and cracking it open for him. He leaned to one side to really look at you, noticing that shitty grin plastered all over your face.

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t do nice things for you, baby?” You rhetorically asked and folded the pair of panties you shoved under your arm just a second ago. Everyone's eyes fell onto what little fabric there was of the bejeweled thong that said ‘Angel’ on the front.

Joel was shooting daggers at you and you knew how much you were getting under his skin at this point. You took a seat on his lap and looked at his cards, not once looking at him. “All in” James says as he pushes his chips to the middle and his eyes wander up your chest. James was older than Joel and not that good looking. It wasn’t surprising he took a liking to you since he’s cheated on his wife three times now. The other guys were out and it was just between Joel and James. Ironic.

“You’re bluffin’ you sorry bastard.” Joel chuckles and lays down his cards, straight flush.

James groaned and tossed his cards in the middle and you looked to see a full house. You jump off Joel's lap and bounce up and down cheering for him, genuinely happy he won. What you forgot about was your boobs were also bouncing up and down. “Alright, that’s it. Guys, I’ll be back in a second. Start over without me and don’t you fuckin’ steal any chips from me.” He states and grabs the laundry basket off the ground, your arm in his other hand and drags you up the stairs. Fuck. Too far.

He marches up all the way to your room and tosses you facedown on the bed, panting from anger. “What the fuck was that, little one? Hm?” You don’t move as he rips off your shorts to expose the white panties covering your ass.

“What? I was just having fun, Joel.” You snap back and brush your hair from your face to look at him. His jaw clenched together as he nodded once, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

“Ya know baby, somethin’ just tells me that isn’t the complete truth.“You wanted male attention so bad you were whorin’ yourself around down there in front of anyone who’d look at you for 5 fuckin’ seconds.” His belt was beginning to come undone and you knew what was going to happen. “Joel..baby, please I’m sorry I-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. Stay still. Since I’m such an old man and can’t remember jack shit, count for me baby. If you fuck up, I’ll start over.” He straddles the back of your thighs and moves your panties up out of the way, smacking your ass hard.

“O-one.” A grunt leaves his mouth after you start counting. His big hand comes down again, smacking the same spot, already red. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering at the pain.

“Two-o.” Your voice shutters.

Joel’s hand collides with your ass cheek once more. “You’ll learn one of these times not to be a smart ass to me, baby doll.”

“Fuck, Joel- three.” You can feel the welt starting to form.

You can hear him laughing behind you as he anchors you to the bed more, the pain making your ears ring. Joel spanks you again, the roughest he’s done it yet.

Your mouth drops in agony and tears start to fall down your face.

“F-fou-r.” The silent sobs slowly start to leave your lips.

His other hand comes by your face and ever so gently wipes the tears spilling from your pretty eyes and down your cheeks.

“Cryin’ won’t get you out of this baby girl. You wanted to act like a badass, take the punishment that follows. Got it?”

You couldn’t muster up anything other than, “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? Say it.”

You swallowed harshly and took a deep breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.”

The hot sensation on your ass cheek was spreading all over your body, the sting from his hand cracking your flesh again made you wince, begging for him to stop.

“Ahh-five.” You seemed to have been losing your voice, only able to squeak out the number rattling in your brain.

Instead of cracking you again, Joel rubs where he’s been spanking you and groans.

“Have you learned your lesson you fuckin’ brat? Gonna be a good girl for me now?” He leans down and whispers in your ear.

You lay there still and unable to speak, a small nod was the only way you could answer. Joel reaches in front of your face and clears your vision of your hair and kisses your cheek roughly. “I dunno princess, think I might have to punish you some more.” His evil chuckle vibrated against your cheek as he kissed it again.

Without a single word more, Joel laid over the top of you with your arms pinned against your back and you began to wiggle.

“Take this fuckin’ cock baby. You want attention so bad, so stupid for cock, well here it is. Stay still.” He yanks down your panties and spits on his fingers before shoving his hand between your thighs as you squirm, his fingers starting at your soaking wet cunt all the way back to your asshole.

The pre-cum leaking from the slightly swollen red tip was spread around the head before Joel rammed his cock so far inside your aching entrance. You mule out and he covers your mouth roughly, yanking you against his chest.

“Shut the fuck up, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you. Shut that pretty mouth up before I put it to use.” He growls and starts to thrust inside you, ramming into your cervix in no time. The rough hold on your mouth makes your cries and moans so muffled but just audible enough for Joel to hear.

“So damn wet for me princess, knew you like when I spank ya like that. Such a nasty little thing f’me. Think those assholes downstairs could fuck you like I do?” A rough kiss against your neck makes your eyes roll back and whine out, needing him to split you open from the inside. His calloused hand still covers your mouth and you shake your head in disagreement.

“Use your big girl words baby.” Joel grunts and uncovers your mouth, grabbing your waist roughly and thrusts into you harder.

You whimper and bite your lip and tilt your head back, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that were hungry for you. “No, sir. I don’t think they could ever fuck me the way you do. Your big fucking dick ramming into me and making me scream while you try to fit the whole thing inside me.” You could see your words were getting him somewhere, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth.

He digs his fingers into the skin on your hip more and pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours. Joel was a grunter and wow did it turn you on. His teeth clenched, he moans your name and cusses at the end of it, tossing his head back to keep himself together.

“I would’ve taken you right on that damn poker table and made you suck my cock in front of them if you woulda kept it up baby. You wanna act like a whore in front of ‘em, I’ll treat you like one. Would you’ve wanted to suck my cock with them watchin’?” He asks, pinching your nipple under his work shirt that was stuck to your body.

“I would’ve done whatever you wanted, sir. I promise, sir I will do anything for you.”

He growls and bites your earlobe teasingly before licking it and the shell of your ear.

“You’re a crazy little bitch for me aren’t ya?”

“I-I’m so close sir, fuck don’t stop.” You whine and he shoves your head down into the bed, groaning loudly.

“No baby, bad girls don’t get to cum. You better not or I’ll spank you harder than before. D’you want me to spank you much harder than the last time, angel?” Your body was aching to cum, the mascara you applied hours ago now smeared and running down your cheeks.

“No, sir.” The tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your orgasm just sitting in your stomach wanting to be released all over Joel’s cock.

He groans louder and pushes your head down to keep still while he drives his cock balls deep in you, slowing up as he’s bracing himself for the end of his fun.

Joel gives your ass a few more good smacks and you have to squeeze your legs shut to keep yourself from cumming. He wasn’t fair for making you hold it, he liked seeing you helpless.

“Gonna fill this little pussy full so you don’t forget who you belong to, you got that?” His hand wraps around your throat as he engulfs you in his arms, fucking you sloppy until he’s panting like a dog in your ear. “Fuck baby doll-fuck- I’m gonna-a cum-ah-fuc-” Joel’s hot stream shoots inside you as he grunts loudly, grabbing a handful of your hair in the midst of fucking his load deep in your hole.

Your pussy squelches and you can feel your clit just screaming to get some attention, some relief. Joel's breaths regulate once more and he lays there behind you kissing your shoulder and back softly. “Maybe next time you won’t be a brat huh?” He chuckles and gets up to go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for you. He cleans you up and your eyes get heavy, sleep creeping up on you. Joel kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, “Get some rest baby. I’ll be back up soon. Maybe I’ll let you cum then.”

1K notes · View notes

tremendum · 1 year

Text

where to start

(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k summary: Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." warnings: SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh notes: thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3 this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe

[other din fic din series (be like me): masterlist ]

★

you stare at the cold metal in front of you.

it stares back silently.

your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done.

but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.

that's not so simple.

"why don't you go over there, Din?" a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?" a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing."

"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd. "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move.

"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that?

"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman?

how does that make sense to your brain?

there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger.

yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before.

you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry.

your fist raises.

the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction.

"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said.

he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track.

you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit.

all you got in response was silence.

a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy.

he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away.

"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word.

"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long.

"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.

you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.

"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again.

"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt.

he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no.

"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees.

he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"

you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby.

"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others."

oh. oh.

you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-"

"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop."

you do.

he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."

you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation.

he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it.

"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction.

heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you.

you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?"

your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.

his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise.

it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you."

you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips.

his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin.

your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din."

it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare."

it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state.

but he gets desperate quick.

he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts.

"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you."

you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din."

you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks.

pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire.

you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt.

broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters.

you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well."

he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la."

you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly.

"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight.

you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure.

"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-"

you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you.

"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.

a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure.

"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit.

he's close, you know it.

you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm.

"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-"

"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans.

he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you.

he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you.

his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed.

you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor.

"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there.

keeping him inside you.

he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la."

another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently. "okay."

requests open

#din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader smut #the mandalorian fluff #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars #din #din x reader #din x reader smut #tremendum’s space cowboy✒️

3K notes · View notes

soullumii · 10 months

Text

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you.

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what.

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool.

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry.

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves.

Alone.

In the dark.

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place.

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.”

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks.

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?”

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now.

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are.

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin.

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.”

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.”

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic.

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point.

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.”

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you.

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips.

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum.

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation?

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.”

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.”

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear.

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome.

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer.

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say.

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead.

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch.

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.”

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.”

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again.

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.”

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers.

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper.

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing.

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night.

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance.

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth.

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs.

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan.

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine.

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy.

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall.

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God…

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...”

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure.

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole.

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends.

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #game joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #this is trouble

2K notes · View notes

millerscoffee · 8 months

Text

heat lightning

6.5k | sub!joel miller x f!reader

gif credit: @jdmorganz

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: NO OUTBREAK. established relationship, no age gap – up to you for joel's age but he has creaky knees so..., sub!joel, bratty!joel??, mommy kink, rope kink, dom/sub dirty talk, joel whimperin' n whinin', gagging, choking, slapping, spitting, edging (m receiving), oral (f receiving - face riding), piv (unprotected), praise kink (good boy, etc.), pet names (pet, baby boy, honey, etc.), a touch of humiliation/degradation kink (spoiler: a moment of cock shaming – every body is a lovely body!), size kink (he still got that thang tho), we walk by breeding ave., sickly sweet aftercare, lingerie. dude if i missed it - it's probably in here! no use of y/n

A/N: thank u to the sweet anon (u know who u are) who requested this almost a month ago. i hope it was worth the wait! love youuuuu!!! ♡

Joel liked having his way. Shocking.

This concept drew you to him, not only because you enjoyed being told what to do (every now and then), but even more that you wanted to challenge why he needed things to be his way in the first place.

You’ve been with Joel long enough now to know the mix of events that made him who he was. Nights and days where he felt insecure for exposing all there was to him, but he was willing to fish it out of him to you.

Only to you.

Tonight wasn’t unlike a handful of nights the two of you shared since being together and unraveling Joel’s vulnerability. It was beautiful, and in moments of softness, it was easy to reflect on how far he’d come. But, right now? You’re a little preoccupied.

---

It started earlier tonight. Joel refused to wear contacts for the fourth time in a week, and forgot his glasses just as much.

And guess who had to remind him? You! Of course! Every. Single. Time.

To wear his glasses, or put his contacts in. But the week was busy at work – Tommy gone off again. Or at least, this was his excuse. More and more excuses poured throughout the week until it was a mere grunt at your suggestion.

Your knuckles blanching until you just gave up entirely. “Ah, fuck,” you hear from the kitchen, the view of Joel rubbing his eyes not long after the sound.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” words are sharp and you clench your teeth. It catches Joel off guard at first, his head shooting up to meet your cold stare. And before he can make an attempt to straighten you out, you stand up – rushing to the kitchen. “I tell you this at least twice a fucking week. ‘Joel, wear your glasses. Joel, have you put your contacts in today?’ you know why your eyes hurt so fucking much? Because you don’t listen to me, and I’m sick of it.”

“You know it’s been a rough week,” Joel’s tyrannical now, his jaw setting – ticking forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry – did I give you permission to speak?” you raise an eyebrow waiting for a reaction, but instead you witness the shift of his hips and the drop of his gaze.

He feels the energetic shift as much as you do, and seems into it. The hitch in his breath gave him away.

“No, ma’am.”

“Bedroom. Now. Swear to god, if you make me repeat myself.”

So he goes and you follow. And you bring a dining chair with you.

Placing it down, you go to the closet to grab some clothes before turning your heel to face a man whose cock shouldn’t be so fucking hard from getting your last nerve.

“I’m going to change, and you are going to sit on this chair. Naked. Do I need to repeat myself?”

Joel beseeches you silently with his dark stare and a steadfast shake of his head, “No, ma’am.”

You don’t respond because you don’t have to and usher yourself to the bathroom – door shuts behind you and you slip into something more dominating.

---

“Darlin’, it’s a little tight,” Joel rattles now, his strength to hold back waning. The rope that curled around the strong arches of his wrists tug harshly as it found tautness from behind the chair.

His wrists and ankles tied with knots that Joel taught you how to tie long ago.

The chair at the foot of the bed.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, you peer over him, changed into laced lingerie with leather accents. Red. Cinched at the waist, your tits bloom out from the cups — daring to spill but never do. You feel sexy, and you feel in control. And fuck, you look so good. Joel knows it, the way he sops you up just by his eyes.

He’s shorter than you like this, but his body still takes up so much space, and it’s intoxicating to observe Joel in such a submissive position in his sturdy frame.

“Is Darlin’ my name?” voice flat, you prop yourself up on the edge of the chair – tilting your head to scan over his body. You take your time with each part of him. Because his wrists are tied, yes, but you look down at the rest of him, completely stripped for you. His hips jolt involuntarily, pathetically really, all from your words and you really watch between his legs. The head of his cock pulsing with blush, weeping against his stomach and thigh as it arches. And he twitches at your gaze.

“Oh, he likes that,” you remark condescendingly, and on any other day you’d be eager to wrap your lips around him. To suck him until his toes curled and your name slipped through the air from his rough, but blissed out voice. But tonight was about taking the lead, teaching a lesson. Taking him how you wanted because you could. And maybe because you loved him and wanted him to experience – to just experience without the expectation of being in command.

“Now, tell me,” you start, teasing the tops of your fingernails grazing the length of his thigh slowly – humming in approval, his body shuddering, his grunts fill the air, “what’s my name, Joel?”

“M-mommy,” the word scorches his cheeks, causing him to bite into his bottom lip and his eyes squeeze shut, precum beading to the tip. His head hangs in unbearable arousal, chin lifting to catch your eyes. The soft brown of his eyes, full of desire and willingness to do anything for you. Anything… except doing what he’s told when he’s stubborn. Your core aches when you squeeze your thighs together for relief, but you don’t falter.

“Mommy!” a fake gasp, you lean over to pat him on the cheek before smacking the skin ten percent harder, “That’s right! Good boy!”

And that wrecks him, sends his hips flying off the seat as much as he can, but you’re quick to shove them down. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Mommy’s not done with you yet,” your fingers curl under his chin, coaxing him to look at you.

“How can you make me feel good, pet? Let’s use our words,” you lean down enough for him to see your tits pushed together like this and the look on his face– god, you’d bottle it. His brows wilted upwards, lips parting, and they’re so wet, so inviting, you want to kiss them for hours. The right toy for you to use in pursuit of getting yourself off.

“I—I c’n use my mouth. I wanna. Wanna be good t’ya, mama,” and he’s almost begging. He’s so close, you can tell he’s trying. It’s just that, he’s distracted– wants to devour you whole without having to ask, not like this. He’s still not used to saying the things you so easily offer him on any other day.

“You wanna be good to me,” you repeat mockingly, tongue darting to one side of your cheek, “That’s too bad. We’re not doing that yet, you still need to learn your lesson. Gotta make sure you know who’s in charge, don’t we, darlin’?”

You don’t let him answer before you sit back at the edge of the bed, your legs spread as they relax against the mattress. You watch Joel, how his head won’t look at you directly – not even if he wants to. He feels too shy, too ashamed for not listening to you, and honestly you’re sick of it because you look fucking hot.

So you clap your hand at his chin lightly, “Miller. Right here.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and those deep eyes take their precious time to rake their gaze over you.

“Is that how you act when a gorgeous lady’s in front of you?”

Joel lifts his brows first, then his eyes, “No, baby– I’m sorr–”

“Not my name.”

You see Joel’s mandible flutter again in frustration now because yes, you’re grinding his gears, but the vulnerability makes him uncomfortable, and he grits out, “No, mommy. I’m. Sorry.”

“You’re on thin fucking ice Joel,” your arms cross over your chest, leaning forward to make eye contact, and though it makes your tits raise, your body language says it all: last chance.

That seems to make him reroute his stubbornnesses because he’s back to open expressions and spread thighs – thick as his cock that weeps pitifully against his abdomen and thigh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

If you were to admit it to yourself, you’re distracted. His cock looks so good, throbbing like that – bobbing with each twitch as his balls tighten along with it and he’s so perfectly thick your mouth waters, but it is not about making his ego feel good tonight. Not yet, anyway. He must understand this behaviour is unacceptable. Just when you think about caving, you’re reminded of how fucking obstinate he’s been and you get annoyed – dominant, all over again.

“Here’s how tonight's gonna go. I’m gonna touch myself, use your mouth, and if you’re good, I’ll ride your pathetic excuse of a cock. Sound good?” you flash a sardonic grin cutting him off when his mouth opens, “Good! Now shut the fuck up.”

It shouldn’t make him hard and it shouldn’t make slick gather between your legs, but of course it does because you’re both insatiable when it comes to each other. Fueling a fire that can’t be tamed anyway, you unfurl in front of him – one palm against the lush duvet while the other trails in front of you, through the lace of your panties. You squeeze your thighs together again, spreading your mess and there’s a wicked grin on your face because you know he knows just how it feels to have those thighs squeezing around his head. To make that messy pussy of yours glide over his features. And the damp fabric emits subtle sloshes from just how turned on you are by this. You love the opportunity to have the upperhand.

Joel, he looks rabid, eyes unable to move from your core while the sweetest sounds fall out of your mouth. Like a hypnotising trick from the circling of your clothed folds – a magician’s secret. His stare is so animalistic you almost want to egg him on like a dog: this what you want, boy? But you’ve got him right where you want him, and you don’t want to take him anywhere else.

“It feels good, Joel,” you confirm with no pornographic moans. Rather a solid melody to your tone. Grounded in your power. You want Joel to know you can make yourself feel good without him, despite it being very much because of him. “Better than you can make me feel.”

And Joel can’t take it anymore – he can’t stand it when you lie to him. He’s seen you with him. How you blossom under his touch until your thighs are shaking all on their own. Seen drool spill from the corners of your mouth as you take and take and take from him, slurred praises floating from your needy throat.

“That ain’t fuckin’ true,” he growls like a caged animal, hips squirming into the chair, and you stop pleasing yourself – wrist frozen as the pressure on your clit becomes lighter, eyes narrow.

“Did I let you fucking speak?” Question rhetorical, you slip your scanty panties off and wad them up before prying his mouth open and shoving them, crotch-side first, inside to mute any more rebukes. The taste of your sex coats his tongue and his moans are muffled, eyes roll back for a fleeting moment – as if he forgot what he was even saying to begin with. His wrists slightly turning colour from the resistance against the rope. Hog heaven, you can hear the southern phrase drawl from his lips without the words.

“And what? You think you can make me feel better than I can? You really think that?” Joel finally smartens up when he realises you’re naked from the waist down and can see the slick against the seams of your thighs while your legs are apart – how turned on you are by keeping him on a line, and god the air is thick. His eyelids droop to the sound of your voice, the scent and taste of you overcoming him as a piteous nod is given to you. Poor baby.

It should irk you, the fact that he believes he knows your body better than you do, but it rakes the coals instead. It’s in that he’s so eager to show you how he can get you there – makes you curious, your pussy tingles in anticipation, pulse rises.

“If I let you go, are you going to be compliant? Because if you think you’re in control, you’re wrong and I need to know you’ll be a good boy for me. Will you be a good boy for mommy if I tell you what to do?”

The strained pleas from the fabric and emphatic nods give you reason to follow through with your promise. And he looks like he means it, like you’ve worn him down to submit to you fully without restraint. You can tell he’s in pain from how hard he is. Like he’s being edged without even touching him. His hands must be numb, his body could tremble at the slightest touch.

It’s enough for you to waltz behind him. You loosen the rope, ghosting your hands over the other typically warm set and despite them being tingly – he can still feel you. His breath hitches, the slopes of his shoulders are so gorgeous from behind. The muscles of his back taut as they flex, their silent entreat for relief. “It’s okay,” you whisper, now that you can’t see him, you feel more inclined to be forgiving.

The arousal is a constant build between the two of you. When you let his wrists loose, he doesn’t move. Just rolls his knuckles into fists, bringing blood and oxygen back to the extremities. He’s good on his word, and makes that known when you untie his ankles. He’s giving it up to you – totally conceding, and moreover adores this side of you. He knows he’s the only one you could ever be this assertive with because the relationship you have creates room for it. Both of you feel safe. His teeth tighten around your panties when you come back around to him, and you cup your small hand, comparatively, to the side of Joel’s neck.

“You good little thing. Got mama so proud,” pushing his curls back, you pull the spit-soaked garment from between his teeth and he’s beaming, nudging his cheek against your touch hungrily. “Go lie on the bed, honey.”

His joints creak from age when he does, having sat there for what felt like an eternity but he does exactly as you say: nothing more, nothing less. Hums softly to himself at the feeling of being able to lie flat on his back because it feels so good, and in the brief moment it’s there without a role – your adoration for him, the gentle quirks that make him so delectable. He deserves to sit back like this, to let his brain just take rather than supply.

However impatient he may be in the process of submission.

“You are doing so well, Joel. I know you have a pristine mouth too, don’t you? Are you gonna show me your tongue?” Getting onto the bed, you walk on your knees as this newly obedient Joel sticks out his tongue flat for you to float over. Your throat dries at that, how perfect he can be for you like this. A smirk comes over your features, “Much better with your tongue out than running it all the time,” and you swear you see Joel’s teeth creep up in a similar smile, but you’re busy straddling his waist with your ass facing his chest to notice.

His strong nose bumps against your clit when you bracket his head. Sipping the air abrasively, your body seizes at the sensation. Clearly more sensitive than your confident words let on, but that’s just the thing – you are confident and extremely horny and you can admit it. So you give in, purring deliciously when you lower over his mouth until you’re sitting completely on his face.

“Love using this mouth for my cunt,” fingers tangle through the strands of his hair and you use it to roll your hips frantically, yet methodically, against the heat of his wet mouth. His tongue hits your folds succinctly, on purpose, and even though you haven’t allowed him to touch you, his movements are so precise it’s as if he’s rolling your hips for you.

“Fuck, you’re swimming in it now,” you groan, neck thrown back before leaning your neck over to the side to watch his eyes flutter shut – the slight shake of his achy jaw, the sweat at the top of his hairline. He’s putting in the work to take it, even when he feels like giving up.

The squelching of your juices has you in your own trance, and though you would wait for his cock to give into the prickling at the pit of your belly, you decide to go give in to what you want in the moment – to orgasm right here, right now. All over Joel’s face.

Pulling the top of your pubic bone, your clit exposes to the plush of lips beneath you. “Suck.” The instruction is simple compared to the stir of fireworks that he sets off inside you. Because he does what you say, and how you say it, instantly. Joel’s eyes roll back alongside his muffled, but satisfied moans that vibrate against the bundle of nerves he’s taking his time to satisfy. Wet suction sounds fill the room when the air breaks off, his tongue swirling right underneath the hood of you and you break out in a sweat from how impossibly good he is at this.

“Y-you’re so good for mommy,” you sound wrecked, Joel looks up at you when he catches just how gone you are. Loving to see you take what you want from him, using his mouth to pleasure yourself. You rock deeply, your hands knead over your lace-covered tits and when you look down at him again, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Eating you like he worships you, and you’re certain he does.

But using him meant not warning him when you were close.

So it comes as no surprise, the influx of low, masculine, ached groans from beneath you when your body responds to its pleasure. Your fingernails dig into your fists as you shudder and moan above him, the lightning rising from your core to your limbs in a matter of seconds – and in waves. You lean forward, catching yourself at the headboard and let out a slight chuckle at the comedown. The two of you surfacing in between this power dynamic. “Shit.”

That’s short lived under your ruling, however, and you slide off of him – getting your bearings. Joel stays still, his mouth vivid pink to match his cheeks, beard and lips sheened with your slick. The look in his eye shows his constraint, his need for something and when you pluck your gaze down his body. His beautiful cock straining against his abdomen, a pool of precum greets you.

“This?” You raise both eyebrows, pointing between his legs, “This needs touchin’?”

“Please,” fuck, he sounds ruined – consumed with lust and need for anything you can give him. He’s really begging now, not the bullshit he tried to deliver you in the beginning.

“Okay, baby,” you coo, “You’re so good for me, gonna make you feel so good.” When you finally, finally acknowledge his cock, his abdomen jolts though you barely touch his sides. You laugh through your nose briefly, “That bad, darlin’?” His head sways ‘yes’ against the pillow before saying it, and you waste no more time in your pursuit to obliterate him now.

So you straddle him. Right at his waist, angling above where his twitching cock lies. You can feel the heat radiate off the both of you. Your core pulsing from your orgasm, wet from slick and spit. You have some wits about you now that you came, and it aids you in authorising the next step – the step that has every nerve at the edge of its seat for Joel.

Joel’s body. The taut skin, the hair down his arms and across the landscape of his chest down his middle. Your own body fills with anticipation when you anchor your hips further down until your folds are greeted by the underside of his length and it’s unhurried when you both shudder in response.

“Sh-shit, shit, darlin’–mama,” he inhales sharply, those words transitioning to whimpers when you glide your hips over his cock back and forth with intention – applying more pressure with each pass.

“Yeah, you like that?”

Joel’s tongue skates over his bottom lip as he nods frantically, and you still yourself.

“Nuh uh. Words, tell me. Need to hear you say it, Joel.”

“F-feels so good, honey. Feels like my kinda paradise.”

Or at least that’s what you are pretty sure you hear. It’s rushed from his feverish breaths, but he’s doing his best. Wants to make an impression that he is committed to giving in. It’s when his eyes slip shut do you lean your body over him, tilting his chin, you wrap one hand around his throat though it doesn’t quite reach around to completion.

“You beautiful man. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?”

Joel blinks them open to see your hooded eyes above him, unable to hide just how in awe he is.

“Y’look gorgeous, mama,” and shit– you feel your cunt clench around the absence of him at that. At how candid and altruistic his words are in the moment.

“You’re one to talk,” you run the tops of your fingers against his beard, hips languid. “Stay right here. My good boy. M’gonna take this big fucking cock. That’s right, isn’t it? Make you know for certain who it belongs to.”

And he loves hearing you talk about him like this. Looks so serene as you sit upright, peeling the rest of your layers off until you’re both naked and he looks like he desperately wants to touch you, but you give him a stern look – not yet. Not until I take you myself.

Reaching behind, you press the head of his cock at your entrance and hiss at the instant stretch. Not working yourself up with his fingers shows when you envelop him like this, and you can feel him digging his heels into the bed from just how you feel around the head of him.

“M-Mommy!”

The sound of him whining is symphonic to your ears.

“Shhhh, you can take it.” The role reversal makes you shiver, your wet sex moving down a little more before you pull up, popping off of him completely and his hips stammer trying to follow you, but he soon realises the edge you’re bringing him to.

He’s greeted with your sinister smile.

“What, honey?” You lean over him, forcing his chin up, you deliver a slap to his cheek before sliding down his cock again – working him up and down, then off again.

His bottom lip trembles and puffs. He’s losing his cool, hands ghosting your hips because he knows better than to touch you like this. Not when he’s so close to getting what he wants. The heat, the fucking heat from them – you shake.

“P-p, mama, mmngh,” his whimpers put you in a daze. How he feels so good he can’t even form a proper sentence. Your free hand claws at his chest while the other at your front edges him – rocking against the underside of him again. Minutes feel like hours when you rile him up like this, and you know you look a mess too. Fucked out, nipples peaked and you catch his gaze on them – his hunger for you extends through the room leaving heat on your skin as it radiates, the energy bouncing off from this tantric experience. The eye contact is insane: Joel’s pupils dilated, eager against the constant spasm of his cock against your messy folds.

All humidity, sweat, and sex make their presence irrevocably known.

You’re slipping.

But you muster one last discipline, leaning down so your tits graze against his chest. You brush your nose against his, insisting his precum spreads against your entrance. He grunts, teeth together, hips grinding as best as he can without breeding you into your submission. And fuck, you’d almost allow it.

Almost.

“Should’ve worn your fucking glasses.” You whisper against his lips, your clit brushing against the coarse hairs of his lower abdomen, and it’s exactly then does he spill over his breaking point.

“I’ll wear them, I’ll wear them!” And, fuck, Joel sounds pained – he sounds sorry, and he sounds desperate. “Please! Please just let me come, mama. I wanna paint ya up so good, honey. P-please, mama! I’ll get fuckin’ lasik – please, just lemme in that perfect pussy!”

That’s the green light.

Placing him back inside, your hips grind on him shallowly. Both hands tighten around his throat, albeit a bit looser than the one fist he’d have around your neck – but it seems to do the trick and you buzz in satisfaction before a choked moan fills your lungs: the sound he’s been craving. Your body giving in, doing what it does. It’s nature, after all, giving into these feelings. “Fucking take this cunt. Fill mommy up, yeah? You wanna make me a real mama, baby? C’mon, let go for me. You can let go, you can move.”

It’s a lightswitch. It’s flipping a breaker, giving Joel such permission.

You yelp when he tosses you off of him. Onto your back, he’s on his knees within a blink – gripping your thighs, he pries you apart before his cock spears inside you with little remorse, and “Oh-my god – your cock!” you scream. It’s exactly what you need now. You nod through knitted brows, praises fill the space between you. You take his chin between your thumb and pointer, one arm around his shoulders you pry his lips apart to transfer spit right inside his mouth. Your tongue glides over his and he drinks straight from the source. You can feel his Adam's apple wobble as it swallows what you’re giving him underneath the pad of your thumb. “That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you mutter sloppily from the rutting of his deviant hips.

Gravity’s against you when you spit in his mouth again, getting some of it on your chin and nose, but fuck, you don’t care. You want it filthy like this with your head half off the bed, his fingers plucking your nipples as it ripples pleasure down your center. “I’m doin’ okay, mama? This whatcha need?” This sly fucker. “S-s’perfect!” The requirement of reassurance fastens you in the leadership role you assumed in the beginning, and you’re so fucking thrilled Joel’s your partner. How he can deliver you mindblowing thrusts, yet still look at you through his lashes like he’s the softest motherfucker on the planet. A gleam of pride in his eyes and at the corner of his lips when he hears your juices be tapped in a fast tempo by his heavy balls. Like giving you pleasure is the pearl he longs to hold for dear life itself in his capable hands.

Of course, he circles your clit for good measure. Of course he would. Little shit. It works like a charm.

He knows your body, said it himself. How it operates, how to take you there. And you’re panting, hips lift to be greeted by his thrusts all the way to the base of your stomach – achieving the spongy spot only Joel can reach.

You feel it happen like a coiling, a buildup of thin air and then all at once: immense pleasure. It snaps, your body convulsing around his cock, core fluttering as your moans get higher, and you think he’d slow down, but it makes him work harder. You try to keep your eyes on him, but it’s just no use, he’s too good at his job. “F-fuckin’, mmngh,” you can’t get out much else, but you’re soaking his cock – what else could possibly be said? Your tits bounce to his thrusts and you can tell this is it for him. He’s been so proficient at keeping it together all this time. Your eyes pop open then, lips wet, you tug for him to come closer. You don’t fucking care that his sweat sticks to your shoulder when he buries his forehead against your neck.

Joel keeps his whimpers close to your ear. His moans of your name, his passion for this feeling – all of it, right against you. Like a secret, like a prayer and you’re the divine goddess in every moment of reverence.

“Can’t last,” he drawls, a coherent sentence flows through him for a moment and you nod, mouth brushing against the red of his neck. “Give it to me, Joel.” Lips dance at his pulsepoint as the contact bounces from his thrusts, and you can hear his heart thud from outside his body. It floods you, the sawing of his cock inside, the swelling sensation against your walls. Tugging his hair, you pull him back just enough to see his faded eyes, “Give me every drop, baby boy. Come for mommy.”

His lips attempt to make contact with yours, but really all he can do is breathe heavily into your mouth and it’s dizzying, being each other’s oxygen. “S-s… so p-perf–,” he tries, he really tries in making the words connect, but even his core feels shaky from his forearms on either side of your head. You snake your hands around his throat once more, and that’s fucking it.

Joel’s sounds are a mix of the low grunts you know, tailending with particular whimpers that leave you moaning back to him like a call to each other. Holy fuck, you’ve never heard him make that sound before. And he’s good on his promise – coating your inside sticky with his substance, your own vibrational tone is low in your throat as you hum in approval. Until he rides it out. Until his pleasure turns sensitive and his hips come to an end.

“Oh, baby,” you praise, delicate hands leaving his throat, you pet his back – warm and masculine and rippled with muscles that he attained from his work. He’s out of breath, and you both laugh at it, pressing tender kisses to his nose and lips.

“Might fuckin’ die at this rate.”

“Well, at least we had a good run.”

It feels empty when Joel pulls out of you, his lanky body shakes the bed when he gracefully thwacks onto the mattress beside you.

“Mmmng.”

A flawless response. Mmmng, indeed.

You stretch your arms overhead, facilitating a yawn in the process.

And you don’t ignore the way it feels to have his cum spill out of you. Hot and sticky and where it’s meant to be.

“Stay there,” you whisper, rolling onto your side, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you, baby.” You even speak differently now – tender and light, peppering kisses all over his tired face in satisfaction. Slipping up to your feet, you go to the adjoined bathroom and run the bath. Putting a couple of drops of your favourite essential oil to make the sensual experience last in the afterglow. You peek your head out from the bathroom door when it’s ready and give him a gentle look of compassion. “It’s ready.”

Joel grunts when he propels all of his upper body strength to sit up in one go. You can’t get enough of him. The way he looks – sleepy and fucked, arms thick and shoulders broad. You have both earned this bath, even if it’s crowded. He sinks in, and you get in front of him, and honestly you both close your eyes for a long while. Exhausted, used. He wraps his arms around the front of your shoulders, and it’s regulatory to your nervous system.

“I really am sorry,” he finally gruffs, wide palms cater to your shoulders as you melt and sink into the bathwater with him. “This week’s been… it don’t matter. You tell me ‘bout my eyes all the time, and I never listen. I will, I promise. I didn’t mean t’make your life harder.”

You frown at the last bit, turning in the water so your chest is against his. Drops spill out the tub when you do.

“You never make my life harder, Joel.”

“Seems like it,” and you can tell he’s not saying it to play the victim. He’s vulnerable and feels safe enough to share this shame with you. “Seems like I end up fuckin’ somethin’ up.”

No. You won’t be having any of that.

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you shake your head in tandem with your words. “Not even close, do you understand?” Sternly, you keep his eyes poured into yours. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. You make everyday brighter. Even when you’re a royal pain in my ass.”

You both join in with laughter before you rest your warmed cheek to the hairs on his chest. “I swear.”

Joel’s throat vibrates to the tune of your last words, and fingers comb through your hair, leaving you both to flutter your eyes shut in the all-too-small bathtub.

“Okay, I believe you. But only ‘cuz I’m a pain in your ass.”

You take in his warmth, so much as sniffing at his words, and it feels good to be connected like this after those moments of taking matters into your own hands. It feels good for both of you to be unarmed to each other without consequence.

When it's time for you to get out, you dry off before holding out a towel to wrap around him and you lean up, pressing your lips to his – both naked and comfortable. Basking in the aftermath – the scene you two created in the bedroom you transition into. Your eyes scan over the bed: the unkept version of sheets, pillows haphazardly thrown together and you individually slip your clothes on. It feels nice to have a soft fabric cloak over your skin, his t-shirt fitting easily from the worn material. Joel takes your hand in one of his, the dining chair in the other. You look back at the room before flipping the light off. At least for a moment, you’re both pretty tired and will work around the mess soon.

Then there's the kitchen. Where it started. But you don’t feel the same aggravation creep up as it did before. Instead, Joel wraps his arms protectively around you when you rise to your tiptoes to grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. It feels like slipping into a warm pool, and you never want to leave. He is more enchanting than the tub could ever be.

“Hot liquid for my man?”

“Y’could just say tea, I ain’t gonna gag, you know?”

You snicker, turning the kettle on and closing your eyes as his chin tucks at the crease of your neck, not so sure he means it. Coffee? Yes. A blend of chamomile and lavender? You weren’t so sure. But he doesn't turn his nose up when you press the teabag to him, so you sneak a kiss and you plop one bag in each cup.

“I dunno, you might gag,” a knowing smirk grows at the side of your cheek that Joel’s at and you mercifully knock temples, as if your brain waves could send each other the memories you have from tonight. Everything primal and raw, all for the both of you.

“No more gaggin’ tonight,” there’s a laugh in Joel’s words and you scratch his beard idly as you pour your hot drinks when it’s time. “That’s alright, baby boy. Mama can handle a little bit of gagging if it means you’re taking.”

“You better watch it,” smile behind his voice, his nose nudges the edge of your jaw and a shudder draws out a small purr from deep in your chest – especially because you know there’s not an ounce of a menacing tone behind the threat.

“I’m not doing anything,” the grin transfers to your face and you turn to face him, arms wrapping around his shoulders because you can and he pulls you up until your feet leave the ground. It’s a stretch that feels good, your heart’s content.

“Yeah, you’re just so good. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bad unlike us common folk.”

And that makes your cheeks rush with blood because you know it’s only a matter of time before the tables turn. Before you’re caught doing something Joel has told you thousands of times to do or don’t, and he has you in some precarious position to drive you back to the version of your best self.

Still, it’s funny, and you nose against the column of his neck – all sweat still mixed with the bathwater and something so innately, masculinely, Joel Miller. “Not too good, just clever. I get away with a lot more than you think, old man.”

“Easy.” His tone shifts all too easily into a warning, his hips pinning you to the edge of the countertop. Your eyes widen before you press your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

“Relax,” you pet his shoulders, before leaning up to kiss his eyelids, “I like that you’re an old, senile man I can swindle.”

“Goddamn, you’re at record time in attempting to prove just how misbehaved y’really are.”

Finishing the tea, you hand his mug off with a nonchalant shrug.

“I learn from the best, I guess.”

You wait a beat.

“So… lasik, huh?”

Joel practically chokes on his beverage. “Uhhh…,”

“Great! I’ll book the appointment tomorrow!”

You won’t (probably), but the look on his face is priceless.

“Yeah, yeah.” That makes Joel smile eventually, his rough hand cupping the side of your face before planting a dichotomously tender kiss to your forehead, and you are steadfast to reciprocate the affection.

The only thing that matters, anyway.

No matter all the hardships, the restless nights. It’s this. It’s delivering Joel to his knees as he worships you, then securing him with a warm cup of liquids in the form of tea, bath, the undulating nature of your arms in their energetic vibrations when they find his frame.

You would take care of him. You would catch him.

Like how rivers bend and rush to oceans:

Everything leads back to him.

taglist: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @scarletthefierce @pedritoferg - comment to be added, and please let me know if i missed you!

635 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

where the fun begins, 2 * ls2 (ms47)

it’s friday: logan throws the party he’s claims he’s having just for you to come around, not even knowing if you’ll be attending

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: um im on my phone in school i dont have a word count and neither did i plan on making this this long… sry guys uwu hope u like it (i’m desperately running out of logan gifs pls help me)

biggest thanks to @angsthology for helping me out with the white man fight and smug logan because i couldnt, for the life of me, figure that scene out so thank yew baby :*

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

friday rolls around, two days since logan had seen you in the bowling alley with another guy. he also spent the last two days organising a party, completely last minute, sending the entire house into a frenzy to set it in stone.

typically, parties are structured and planned at least two weeks ahead of time. but this time is different.

he can't ignore the frustration that clouds his thoughts when he thinks of that night. or you, in general. all he sees is you wrapped around someone else's arms.

he's been watching the door for the past hour, curious if you had taken him up on his invitation. it's been two hours since the start of the party, and logan knows damn well that word has gotten around about their open house party.

it should have been invitational only, as they usually host their parties. but it's way too last minute to make it an exclusive party. so, they made sure word got around.

he knows that you know what time the party starts. because mick's friends have already made their way into the frat house, drowning in alcohol and pressed up against girls on the dance floor. he only wonders if you would ever come by.

logan folds his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he watches the crowd pour into the dimly lit home. he turns to oscar. "see? i told you i could pull it off."

oscar stops next to him, hands in his pockets. "i got to say – this is the most effort i've seen you put in a girl," oscar teases, glancing at his friend from the corners of his eyes. "you must really like her."

"i just don't like losing," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "especially not to some loser like the guy she's with."

losing? no, he is jealous. but he would rather abolish this entire party as a whole than admit that to anybody.

"schumacher?" oscar laughs, throwing his head back. "he's not even a loser, mate. have you even talked to him?"

"whose side are you on, dude?" logan frowns, throwing his arms in the air. "there is a wrong answer to this question."

oscar rolls his eyes and punches logan. objectively speaking, he is on mick's side; for your sake. but in a friend perspective, he’ll always be on logan’s side. but even he can admit logan’s a bit of a dick sometimes.

"whatever, dude." he smiles to himself, watching liam open the door to let another crowd in. "it's a very well-put-together party. i'm surprised. where did you get the keg on such short notice?"

logan has this shit-eating grin on his face, one that oscar desperately wants to wipe off. but he can only step back and watch the downfall of all his antics. it's funnier that way.

"frederik knows a guy."

oscar raises an eyebrow. "alright, mate." he pats logan on the back. "liam’s hosting the beer pong. let’s go?”

logan shakes his head, staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. “later.”

“staring at the door won’t increase the chances of her coming,” oscar hums proudly, patting him on the back. he pushes him through the crowd of college students and massages his shoulder as he tries to find where liam had set up the table. "and anyway, they're coming after pre-drinks."

logan stops in his tracks. "how do you know that?"

oscar steps back with a smirk. "lily told me. did i not update you on that?" he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "must have slipped my mind."

he knew, since the night logan plotted this party, that you and your friends would be pre-drinking before coming here. another reason you're apparently dragging your feet here is for lily – not wanting her to be alone in a frat house.

as honest of a guy oscar tries to keep himself, it doesn't remove suspicion from him trying to take advantage of her. understandable and respectable. so he told you to take your time.

"dude!" logan scowls, shoving oscar back. "that's vital information you should have told me ages ago! i've watched the door like a fucking hawk all night waiting to see if she's coming."

"it's funnier this way," oscar giggles. "also, it's because i'm dating lily."

"you're what? since when? why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"way before you started seeing her. but you're focused on the wrong thing, mate."

"i doubt that, actually."

"oi, beer pong bitches!" liam screams, his hands cupped over his mouth as he beckons for the pair to approach him. he's knelt on a bar stool to catch their attention in the crowd. "logan is up first for the public versus the house."

logan chuckles, slowly making his way towards the beer pong table once more. "are you sure? i'm undefeated, mate," he turns to his friends, "you'll never get your turn if i'm up first."

frederik grins, gesturing towards the rows of red cups filled with sizzling cheap beer. "we wanna see how long you last."

oscar giggles, patting his back. "revenge for making us scramble to put together this party at such short notice."

"and anyway," liam laughs breathily, stumbling into logan's body. he takes a sip from the red cup in his hand. "we have another table for the casual games by the pool."

"and i don't get to play at that table? how rude," logan scoffs, stepping towards the table. he spreads his arms out as he looks around the crowd. "any takers?"

there are a couple who try taking logan down in his own game of beer pong. but as someone who's always in attendance at every party on campus, he's simply mastered the game – how to distract his opponents when he's losing, how to throw them off the game, and how to hit the ball into the cups.

he's figured it all out.

the games pass by very quick, and logan only drinks a couple of cups out of the 6 opponents that are brave enough to step up to the challenge.

"seriously?" logan giggles, slightly intoxicated from the beer. he watches the previous guy walking away, greeted by his group of friends and consolations for a 'nice try'. but logan knows it wasn't a good try. he didn't have a fighting chance at beating him. "where's the real challenge?"

"i could probably beat you."

he hears a chorus of 'oh's from his own friends crowded behind him, lifting his head to meet a pair of blue ones. he sees you first, hands on someone else's body and an arm wrapped around your shoulders. his eyes land on mick, smugly grinning at him with a hand inside the pocket of his jacket nonchalantly.

"yo, isn't that-"

"liam, read the room."

logan doesn't notice lily threading the edge of the makeshift circle over to his side, greeting oscar with a smile. he tilts his head at mick. "you think you can beat me? i'm undefeated, bro."

he sees you whispering something at mick, swatting at him with a small smile. logan knows that look: the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and slightly smudged mascara under your eyes. you'd drunk a little too much during your pre-drinks.

and so do you with logan: the heaving, permanent sly lazy grin and slumped shoulders. you even notice the way he's already slurring at his words.

"mick, should you really be entertaining this?"

mick smiles down at you, squeezing you with a soft shake. "just a bit of fun. we're at a party after all. i'll keep it friendly."

"i know you will. but will he?"

"trust me?"

you tilt your head and lift an eyebrow. you sigh with a small smile, "fine."

"asking for permission?" logan scoffs. "what are you, scared?"

mick scrunches his nose, lifting his hands from you. "no, mate. reassuring her," he smiles. he slowly tears his jacket off of his arms.

logan clenches his jaw at the sheer audacity when mick turns around and hands you his jacket. he feels a wave of anger, something he's never felt before, rising in his chest when mick leans down and presses a quick kiss to your red cheeks.

this might just be jealousy. but it's an emotion so foreign to logan that he doesn't even notice it. in his head, he's just mad that he's lost you to this guy.

someone rumoured to have gotten into the school through his dad’s connections.

"you sure you wanna embarrass yourself in front of her?" logan asks sweetly, biting down on his bottom lip. "one more chance to back out, schumacher."

mick shrugs and steps towards logan. "all in, mate."

"just making sure you don't embarrass your little girlfriend," logan grins, craning his neck slightly and squints his eyes down at you. "you don't want everyone to see him lose to me, do you? you should advise him otherwise."

you don't even get a chance to react before mick steps into logan's line of vision to you. "don't bring her into this."

logan scoffs, eyeing mick up and down. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. "huh?"

"let's keep this friendly?" mick smiles. he extends his hand towards logan.

logan's gaze trails to the hand held out in front of him. he chuckles dryly before turning away, earning another chorus of gasps and shocked whispers around him, walking over to his side of the table. "you know how to play beer pong, don't you?"

mick purses his lips together, retracting his arm before padding over to his spot. "yeah."

liam looks between them, drunkenly filling up the new set of cups with beer. the kiwi can only hope that they keep talking so that he doesn't have to rush with the cups.

"i can teach you if you'd like."

"no, i think i can handle myself."

"alrighty," liam stands, clasping his hands together. "enough yapping. play the stupid game, you guys. it's just beer pong."

logan remembers a time when you used to be in this crowd. cheering for him instead of some random guy you met in one of your classes. you should be on the other side of the crowd next to oscar and arthur.

logan doesn’t do great with losing. if that hasn’t been implied, he doesn’t know any other way to show it.

mick crosses his arms over his torso. “make a shot, reigning champ.”

“i can be generous,” logan scrunches his nose, pressing his lips together. “guests first.”

the boy across the table shrugs. the game doesn’t go by as fast as the previous ones that logan plays. mick was actually true to his word, knowing how to play the game.

logan’s drank more cups than he’s ever in the entirety of the evening. he has to take a couple of deep breaths, staring down at the table when mick hits the ball into the last cup on his side.

he lost. he… lost? how is that possible?

“good game,” mick smiles with a polite nod across the table.

logan scans the table, taking his last cup into his hand. he hadn’t even stood a chance against mick. he still had more than half his set on the table.

mick swiftly turns around, ready to approach you when logan speaks. “one more?”

“mate-“

oscar taps liam on the shoulder, his one arm around lily’s shoulders, and grins. “no, let him do what he wants,” he glances at lily, who is smiling back at him, “i wanna see how this goes.”

“he’s gonna get himself into a fight, oscar,” liam mutters, pointing at logan. “you know him.”

“let him,” oscar shrugs. “he’s an adult — he knows what he’s getting into.”

“one more?” mick asks, halfway towards you. “are you sure?”

“yeah. best of three?”

“logan,” frederik calls out, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. “mate. he beat you fair and square.”

“no, it’s alright,” mick smiles. “no hard feelings.”

“very hard feelings,” logan mutters to himself, reaching to the side to open a beer can to replenish everything himself. “you stole my girlfriend.”

liam quickly takes over logan, swatting his hands away as he fills one cup sloppily with half of the liquid trickling down the side.

the next game goes by even quicker than before, the entire duration flashing right in front of logan’s eyes. he’s lost again. at least, it was closer this time. it was tied down to one last cup. mick simply played his shot better.

in normal circumstances, maybe logan would have just taken the loss as one would. but this is mick we’re talking about. logan will be anything but diplomatic about it.

“you had me nervous for a moment there!” you giggle. you move your arm out to avoid spilling the cocktail that frederik very graciously mixed for you during the game. “i thought you were going to have to play the third round.”

mick laughs breathily, blinking rapidly with a hand on his chest. “me too. i’m filled with alcohol,” he laughs, sweeping you into his arms. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, lifting you slightly from the ground. “let’s go whenever you want to?”

“aw, mate,” frederik sighs, heading over to mick. “house rules: the winner stays until defeated.”

“no way,” you whine, jokingly tearing frederik’s hands from mick. “i wanna head to the bar and get another drink with him!”

“fuck this,” logan mutters, throwing the racket down on the table. he snatches the last cup on the table and glances over at you excitedly bouncing as mick swept you up into his arms.

he rolls his eyes, whirling around and heading towards the backyard of the house.

mick hums as you engage in a conversation with frederik, his hand still on your waist. “um, hold on,” he whispers, tapping you gently. “i’ll go check on him. he looks mad.”

you tug on his shirt. “no, he’ll be okay. he’s just a sore loser, mick.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he detaches himself from your grasp. “i just wanna ask him if he’s okay. i’ll meet you guys at the bar.”

you hum hesitantly, letting go of his hands finger by finger. frederik nudges you in the direction of the bar where oscar and lily are already walking towards.

mick steps out into the backyard, hopeful to find the blonde that turned his back on them. while he didn’t frequent petty fights, logan’s reactions are just very entertaining to him. all because he had failed to appreciate your presence when he was blessed with it and mick stepped up to take you out on a date.

and when he was hearing whispers about logan remaining undefeated at the beer pong table, he took up on the chances. perhaps the alcohol made him feel slightly competitive.

he’s ashamed to admit that he let his ego get the best of him and that’s why he stepped up to logan’s challenge.

“mate,” mick announces his presence, slowly approaching logan sitting on one of the sun beds by the pool. “i hope you didn’t take the game to heart.”

“fuck off,” logan mutters, dropping his head low. he picks at the grass under the bed and clenches his jaw. “what are you doing here anyway? shouldn’t you be celebrating with your girlfriend?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.” logan looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “yet.”

“seriously, what’s your deal? have you just come here to parade in my face that you got the girl or something?” logan pushes himself up to his feet. “i get it, man.”

mick sighs. “no. i was checking on you. you look like you had too much to drink there.”

“i don’t need you babysitting me,” logan shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “i’m a grown adult.”

“do you need some water? i don’t imagine you feel so good after chugging that much beer,” mick mutters under his breath. “you should really sit down.”

“don’t act like you care.”

“logan,” mick sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to let his frustration pass. “iced or room temp water?”

logan rolls his eyes. “stop acting all saint-like, man. i know you wanna hit me.”

“mate, i do not want to hit you.”

“for sure, you do. you just don’t know it yet.” logan shoves his hands into his pockets. he takes a step forward. “we all know you want to hit me. just do it.”

mick takes note of the step he takes, but stays planted into the ground. “i don’t want to fight you.”

“i know you do. the urge just hasn’t clawed at you yet,” logan grins sloppily. another step forward. “or are you holding back? because she doesn’t like messy guys and you’re scared you’ll lose her it you throw a punch?”

“i’m not holding back. fighting is a waste of time — i don’t like it.”

“she’s very conservative, dude, but she’s very forgiving,” logan nods, looking into the glass doors that lead into the house. he tries to spot you in the crowd but when he doesn’t, he returns his attention to mick. “you’re allowed a couple mistakes.”

“i’m not taking advantage of her like that.”

“i’m not asking you to take advantage of her kindness. i’m telling you that if you need to throw a punch or two, she will definitely forgive you. no need to be scared.”

mick laughs slightly, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. “i’m really not looking to fight with you. that’s beyond me, mate.”

“she appreciates when you let loose a little bit,” logan nods to himself. “why do you think we were going out all those months together? it’s not just cause i won her over with my charm, ya know. she’s got a bit of a wild side, mate.”

mick tilts his head, squinting slightly. he appreciates the extent logan is going to just to rile him up.

“if you don’t know that, then maybe she’s just not comfortable with you.” one more step forward. “i know so well a side of her even you’ve never seen before.”

“do you?”

“yeah,” logan answers in a low tone. he drops his head, one corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. “she’s got that perfect picture smile from a magazine, but you should have seen her when we went to this one party on campus.”

“ah. so?”

“do you know that she gets touchy when she consumes tequila?” logan perks up innocently. “very brave — she’s taken body shots before, you know. off of me?”

“okay? that was a frat party; of course you guys would host that kind of activity. i was there when that happened.”

logan ignores the jabs at the fraternity.

“kissed her yet? in case you haven’t, she tastes like those strawberry mints she always keep a tin of inside her pocket. they’re very minty, but it’s lovely.”

mick grins, pursing his together. “yeah, i know.”

“have you seen her in that one baby doll dress that she likes wearing a lot? what about her yellow sundress that barely covers her thighs?” logan pouts his bottom lip out. “it’s a scene when the wind comes by.”

“mate, you’re kind of crossing a line now,” the german chuckles. “don’t talk about her like that. i know you like her too.”

logan takes another step forward, eager to find that one trigger in mick. “do you know the mole she’s got on her hip? on the left side of her lower back. it’s really really visible when you’re fuc–“

“aw, fuck’s sake!”

logan almost bursts into laughter when he realises what had happened. his back meets the land of grass in the backyard, a pain shooting through his face. when he looks up, a crowd has formed around them during their conversation and liam is already knelt by his side.

lifting his head, he sees mick covering his face with both hands. he runs his hands through his hair as he looks down at logan with wide eyes, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “oh, my god. oh my god.”

oscar and lily pour out of the glass doors with a crowd following them out, the australian raising his eyebrows at his best friend lying back on the ground with a bloody nose.

“logan?” oscar asks, already knowing that he’s probably done or said something to trigger the normally calm headed man in front of him. “what did you do?”

logan scoffs, letting liam help him to sit on the sun bed. “i have the bloody nose and you’re asking me what i did? why don’t you ask him? he hit me.” logan points at mick as he takes the tissues that liam is putting into his hands.

oscar stares at logan. “really? you’re going with that?”

“yeah,” logan grins, glancing at mick. he presses the tissues to his nose, hissing when pain shoots through his face again at the contact. “god, dude. you don’t look like it but you can throw a punch.”

mick nurses his knuckle, taking a couple of steps back. “i know, mate. i’m not stupid.”

you stumble out of the glass doors, heaving as frederik keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. you were in one of the bathrooms upstairs — where it’s exceptionally cleaner — when mick threw the punch (frederik was holding your purse waiting for you outside the door).

when you made your way back down, the crowd inside the house halved. frederik would tap ollie, taking body shots off of someone, asking where everyone had gone.

and ollie, lying back on the table as he put salt on his stomach, pointed to the backyard and muttered something about a possible fight. “logan, maybe,” he muttered before promptly shooing you away.

you look at mick first, who has his shoulders slumped with oscar and lily by his side and is staring at you with guilt all over his face. then you look at logan, being nursed by liam and someone else, with a tissue and an ice pack against his face.

“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”

@cashtons-wife @localwhoore @vroomvroomcircuit @foreveralbon @what-is-happening-helpp

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #frat!au

252 notes · View notes

katsu28 · 1 year

Text

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp

navigation

(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been.

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly.

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.”

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?”

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.”

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today.

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.”

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?”

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.”

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.”

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in.

Shit. It was you.

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though.

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter.

“Wait, what—”

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.”

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—”

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it.

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes.

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes.

Would he do anything about it? Probably not.

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it.

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.”

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.”

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?”

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?”

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You.

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered.

“Well then they’re idiots too.”

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed?

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.”

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf.

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?”

“Am I allowed to say neither?”

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips.

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would.

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!”

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization.

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more.

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit.

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor.

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way.

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.”

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out.

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things #joe keery #if u saw me say goodnight earlier don't look at me #what is it with me and posting when i should be sleeping #is anyone awake #does anyone even read tags anymore tho #anyways if you've gotten this far hi thank u for reading i love u #MWAH #ok im actually going to bed now #goodnight <3 #happy valentine's day besties

1K notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 4 months

Text

tell me i'm good | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: ohmygod you guys why did this take me like almost 3 weeks....... mnadfahsdf anyways um this might be like the last chapter idk ???!!!! what would you guys like me to do.... cos im kinda losing my grip on coryo rn, im at the end of my tbosas copy and im just so disgusted w him idek ???? but uhh yeah. sorry i'm a bit of a mess lately. i did have some little things i could be including in further writings, like y/n meeting tigris, or y/n reuniting w coryo after he returns from 12, but there's not much material for like whole chapters, idk. hope you at least enjoy this and let me know if u guys have any ideas!! happy reading <3

previous chapter

coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 4.2k

themes: little angst, smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, fingering, praise, sorta sub!coryo cos that's what i live for. coryo has a praise kink, sue me

gif credit goes to author / owner <3

usually Coriolanus would feel unease in a rich family’s home, like y/n’s was. unease because he felt like he belonged there, in homes like that, but he didn’t exactly deserve to. the snow name had fallen to ruin and bankruptcy because of district twelve, and they’d been living in hunger with barely any money since then. it had made Coriolanus lose the confidence he wanted to regain, about himself and the way he carried his family name.

he always put on a certain stance and grace when walking into homes like this, a way that would never make the hosts doubt he came from a place any different than this. being in homes like this made him feel ashamed of his living conditions. he was grateful towards Tigris for putting in her efforts to upkeep their home, but he could never escape the fact that this wasn’t how they were supposed to live, it gnawed at him day and night. and when he was in homes like this, Coriolanus felt uneasy because his home was nothing like these ones.

but when it was just him and y/n in her shower, her bathroom and her bedroom, he felt none of that unease or shame. he did feel a little envious, but that’s where it ended. the other spiteful and loathing feelings he usually felt were gone. perhaps it was just her effect on him that did it, but he felt like admitting that would make him vulnerable. he knew it, just didn’t want to admit to himself. to her – always. he couldn’t hide her effect on him if he tried.

the one difference he realized between her home and his was that the outside world was completely quiet here. from the snow penthouse Coriolanus could hear street noises – rats, people, cars, trams. grandma’am’s singing was really the worst of the noises, but that was a different case. it almost spooked him how quiet it was here. he liked it. lying beside y/n in her bed, both of them wearing pyjama shirts and underwear, he glanced at her reading a book that looked older than anything he’d seen before.

“i thought most books were burned in the war, or even in the old world,” Coryo admitted to her and watched as corners of y/n’s lips tugged into a gentle smile at that. she had her back against the headboard, and could look down at Coryo. she didn’t, her eyes were still on the tiny words printed on the pages.

“they were,” she said, “my mother got only three as a gift when she was a kid. they were her most prized possessions, she always had them with her.” y/n sighed. “they survived the war, it seems, and everything else, and joined my father’s library.” she finally looked at him and smiled. she closed the book, but not without leaving a bookmark where she had stopped, and shoved it onto her nightstand. she shut off the light and slid to lay beside Coryo. her hand under her pillow, she looked at him moving to lay on his side to face her, tucking his hands under his pillow, too. she smiled and Coryo mirrored that, too.

“grandma’am has some books at home,” he said to her, “but i’m sure she hasn’t touched them in ages,” he added and made y/n laugh.

“do you think Lucy Gray has books at home?” y/n asked suddenly, and Coryo’s expression changed. he’d completely forgot about her until y/n mentioned her just now. she was still in the arena, hiding from Coral and the others. y/n looked into his eyes as the motions changed in the blue of them. “her songs do sound like ones from a book,” she added in an innocent voice, still waiting for any sort of answer from Coryo.

he huffed. “they sure do,” he replied quietly, shortly, “but they’re her own. at least the ones she’s sang so far,” he said then and looked down between him and y/n.

“i really loved the one she sang when you were supposed to have your interview,” y/n admitted, “the very first words, something about when she was younger, she fell into hollers and now when she’s a girl, she fell into that mystery boy’s arms. those really touched my heart,” she said with a smile and still looked to Coryo. he shyly looked into her eyes, “made me think of you.” she all but mumbled quietly.

he made a half-smile. “really?” he asked and she confirmed with a nod.

“sounds like me and Lucy Gray were both angry little ladies when we were younger,” y/n said and rolled over onto her back, “i certainly was. gave my parents and the babysitters pains,” she sighed, “i do regret being hard on them, but i never regret anger that i had, whatever it might have been about.” she turned her head to Coryo, who had suspected that she’d turned away from him all together by laying on her back now. but she didn’t turn away. just felt shy. “mother used to say there would never be a boy who liked me if i was always this angry,” y/n said and hummed quietly.

“well, she was wrong,” Coryo immediately said and reached a hand out to stroke her delicate cheek, “i like you, and not just because you’re angry, but it’s a good characteristic to have,” he said and it made y/n turn to lay on her side to face him again, a smile on her face. he did like her anger, it showed courage. but it unnerved him sometimes, just like Sejanus did when he spoke up against teachers, dr Gaul or anyone else higher standing. y/n and Sejanus could both get into serious trouble just by being themselves. oh, but isn’t it fun, Coriolanus, to have such strong, different people around you?

“that will prove her wrong when we tell her about us,” y/n said in a hopeful voice, and Coryo nodded before he could respond otherwise. he wanted to give her a smile, but instead he gave her the ghost of one, his thoughts slithering away elsewhere.

“do you think... it’s good arms that you’re falling into? my arms?” he asked, wondering the worth of those lyrics to her. and his worth to her, and overall. she’d practically just admitted that she had fallen into his arms, into him, so he had to know. he had his anxieties about what he did in the arena not too many hours ago, about what it could mean, what it could change, who would find out. now that his mind wasn’t entirely preoccupied with other things and she had reminded him about Lucy Gray, Coriolanus’ thoughts ran wild again.

y/n put her hand on his cheek and stroked her thumb over his pearly skin. she wasn’t sure about her answer. believing Coryo was good was different than him actually being good, and she’d always believed her own good thoughts of people who weren’t entirely good rather than seeing them for who they truly were and accepting that. she knew Coryo wasn’t perfect, not really, under the surface, and sometimes he made very strange compromises. but not to her. he’d always been good to her. “i think so,” she said finally, quietly, “you’re good to me.”

he shook his head, and her hand moved to his lips and then back to his cheek again. Coryo felt a surge of euphoria at her fingers against his lips. “i try to be, but...” he looked into her eyes, “i don’t know if i am good.” he admitted and y/n’s eyes gave him a puzzled glance. “i couldn’t tell you before, but,” he took a deep breath, “i killed one of the tributes. in the arena.” he finally said, no distractions, no avoiding the subject, just straight-forward truth. laying himself and his actions out in the open.

y/n’s eyebrows puzzled, then drew together as her eyes searched all over, then looked to a spot between her and Coryo. he’d killed someone. he’d killed a kid and then just gone to her home and... without telling her about it. truly, he was in shambles when she saw him, and could hardly get a word out, but... she took her hand away and curled it under her pillow. she felt used. she didn’t look at him, though Coryo wanted to beg her to do so, to say anything, do anything. anything other than this silence.

“did you come here with... those intentions? did you want to just... sleep with me and then go back to your home?” she asked him finally, all kinds of thoughts were racing through her mind. “like i’m just some...” profanities circled her mind.

Coryo shook his head at her voiced assumptions and scooted closer to her under her covers. he’d made her upset, but not in the way he’d anticipated. girls do have a different view of everything, they really do. “no, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” he told her. wasn’t it? “i didn’t want to go home,” he said, “i just ran and ran until i recognized your house and... i just knew it was the right place to be. i couldn’t be with anyone else, y/n,” he almost pleaded. she gave him a glance.

“and what then? i wasn’t inviting you to do all these things to me, with me,” she said, suddenly feeling nauseaus from the thoughts she was having, the assumptions that clouded her mind and swam into her words, “you wanted to.”

“i did want to, and no, it wasn’t—ugh,” Coryo turned to lay on his back, “i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. you-you’re where i feel the safest. and... you are irresistible to me, as i’ve said before.” he turned to lay on his side again, where y/n had pulled into herself more, her arms around her own frame, eyes staring blankly into her bedding. “you’re not just someone to me, i would never use you like that,” Coryo assured her, and y/n looked into his eyes finally. he felt relief, if only momentary. she’d looked at him, at least, “i couldn’t even tell you what you mean to me. too much, is what you mean to me.”

he offered her a smile, but she just looked back at him. “so what we did wasn’t just a distraction for you?” she asked in a quiet voice, and Coryo shook his head, happy they were on the same page finally.

“no, y/n, it meant the world to me,” he told her, “and so do you.” he promised and managed that smile again. she believed him. she didn’t care that it could make her a fool later – that was later, and not now. now she was his world, she was his solace, his comfort, his safe place. “i love you,” Coryo said. didn’t i tell you that already? he searched her eyes and she nodded, finally.

“i love you, too,” she said back and Coryo held her face in his hands with her silent permission, “i just wish i could know what goes on in that head of yours,” she admitted, though fearing it may make Coryo lock himself up and never say a word to her again. some would call knowing what the other is thinking an invasion of privacy, but she didn’t see it that way, and neither did Coryo.

“i wonder the same thing about you,” he admitted back and y/n raised her eyebrows momentarily at that statement, a little surprised, though she was glad to hear that he felt the same way, “i never want to make you feel worthless to me, y/n, i—”

she shook her head, “you can’t really control that,” she pointed out.

“but i want to try,” he said, and thought that it would be best if he could control every aspect of how she felt about him or what he made her feel. her anxieties were out of his hands, but he wanted them to go away, and wanted to do his best for her to not have them at all. not plant the seeds for those anxieties.

“tell me about it,” she urged him after again shaking her head gently at him. she tucked her face closer to his, “did you do it for Lucy Gray?” she asked and looked up into his eyes again.

“well, yes,” he answered, “but he would have killed me and Sejanus, too. it was...”

“self-defense?” she asked and Coryo nodded. “they sent you in there after him and didn’t even provide protection.” protection from who? kids who have been pushed out into an arena, onto a stage, and told to perform and survive?

“that was the catch, yes,” Coryo said, “he ran after us, though he was limping, and attacked us. i didn’t...” he gulped and looked down, “i didn’t want to hurt him, but... i felt something, and i... couldn’t stop.” y/n looked into his eyes. “i don’t feel... i don’t think i’m the same anymore.”

y/n pulled him into an embrace, his head against her chest, damp curls tickling her neck, and held him tightly. it was almost like cradling him, so gently, comfortingly, offering her solace. she didn’t know what to say to him, what words to offer. it seemed they’d all ran out. the smart-mouth y/n had nothing to say for the first time in her life.

“do you still think i’m good?” Coryo asked quietly, his voice muffled. y/n sighed, her eyelids fluttering, eyes turning glassy as no doubt Coryo’s were too, she could hear his voice on the whiny, sob tone. he needed comfort, reassurance.

“i think you can be,” she told him her honest thoughts quietly, despite knowing it wasn’t a direct answer to his question. Coryo gulped and pulled back, just to look at her, just to hold her, too.

“tell me i’m good,” he pleaded and took her face in his hands again. y/n felt confused, and looked at him with eyes very much expressing that, but couldn’t stop herself from what she said next.

“you’re good,” she assured in an unsure voice, and was taken aback by Coryo kissing her. hard, sudden, urgent, desperate. she could hardly draw breath, his teeth were clashing against hers, lips hungry on hers, tongue licking at her teeth, the inside of her mouth, hungry, starving, desperate, “you’re good.” she said again, still sounding unsure but less than the first time. Coryo whimpered into her mouth at her words, he felt himself twitch beneath the fabric of his loaned pyjama pants. seriously? he asked himself at first. but then, this is good. this is doing something good for you. listen to her, “you’re good, Coryo,” y/n gasped into his mouth. she could feel him against her inner thigh now that their bodies were intertwining again. Coryo moved his lips to her neck, nipping, licking, softly biting, suckling at her skin, drawing out the most delicious of noises out of her, only making himself more desperately aroused from it, more desperate for her, “Coryo, you’re...” she couldn’t even finish her sentence as she writhed in his hold, her hands grasping at the skin under his shirt, fingers teasingly slipping between his hot skin and the elastic of his pyjama pants.

“say it,” he reminded her in a whisper, a request in the disguise of a whine. Coryo grinded his hips against y/n’s, drove his growing length against her cunt, and found warmth there immediately. y/n almost cried out her next words, the heat between her and Coryo making her nearly as desperate as him. desperate for each other, like bitches in heat.

“you’re so good, Coryo,” she squeezed out and pushed her hips up against his. she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back on the bed, his back on her soft-as-ever pillows, and his eyes looking up at her. she just adored the sight of him like this, but couldn’t hold herself away from kissing him, stopping her short adoration of him. he needed her. he needed her support. so she’d give him that. she had always been ready to do that. take care of him. she’d done that in another way time and time over already.

she took his hand and pushed it in her pyjama bottoms, and Coryo groaned, relishing at touching her at her most vulnerable part again, this ever-inviting slick warmth that was all his to touch, to please, to discover.

“touch me, Coryo,” she breathed onto his lips, and he nodded in half a second. so compliant, so obedient, doing what he’s told. afraid for what may come if he doesn’t. afraid of the chaos that comes for not following orders. always melting like chocolate under her hot touch, compliant to her. his fingers ran through her folds, covered in slick, making her gasp and arch her back, hair in the air. Coryo watched her in awe, in adoration. she was a goddess above him. assuring him he was good, telling him what to do, listening to him, falling apart under his touch, such an effortlessly beautiful girl. he had lucked out. Coryo kept his eyes on her face as he pushed two of his fingers inside her walls. it made y/n sigh and shudder in relief, he was delicate on her soreness, like balm on a bruise, “Coryo,” she moaned and felt his fingers curl inside of her, making her eyes roll back into her head, “fuck, you’re so good for me, Coryo.”

he nodded again, eyelids fluttering and lips stretching into a smile. her words and noises fed his ego and flattered his heart that so longed for words of praise and recognition. they also made his hard-on grow in his pyjama pants, and he felt kind of shameful for it. he grazed her walls with his fingertips and felt how it made her shudder sitting above him, her cunt squeezing him in, her thighs tightening around his hips—locked in. Coryo moaned, he felt his hand between his clothed, growing erection and her cunt, and it was the perfect squeeze. her warmth pressing against his own, pulling him in. he pumped his fingers faster inside her, delicious sounds from her cunt going straight to his erection.

“Coryo,” y/n mewled and rocked her hips on his hand. he could tell she was desperate, and that meant she was close, too. she was nearly crying, her soreness from before joining the immense pleasure Coryo was providing, “be good for me and make me come, Coryo, please,” she half-pleaded, half-commanded, and Coryo nodded again, beyond turned on but still so focused. his other hand reached around her hips and pushed a splayed palm on the small of her back, pushing her core more into his hand, down onto his length. y/n groaned and gasped for him, but she took his hand and guided it up her pyjama shirt, over her breast, and made him squeeze the flesh of it. that made her whimper and only yearn for her release more. she was oh-so-close, about to fall over that sweet edge for the second time that night.

Coryo pulled his trump move of pressing a digit against her clit and ground his hips up against hers again, trying to maintain a rhythm, and knew that was it, he could feel the difference in her body immediately. she jerked, and her thighs trembled—she was so sensitive still—and she drew ragged breaths. y/n collapsed on top of Coryo as she came, uttering his name under her breath, and he drew his hand from under her shirt to wrap it around her frame to just make her feel his ever-long support. her hair in his face, they were both gasping for air, skin on skin, and Coryo didn’t even realise until he felt not just her wetness on his fingers, but his own under his hand, soaking through his pyjama pants, that he’d come, too. he hardly even felt it, unlike that first time just a mere hour or two ago. his cheeks blushed a bright pink on his pale skin and he tremendously, though stupidly, hoped she wouldn’t notice.

but when she kissed his cheek and his neck after regaining herself, he sort-of forgot about the little detail, melting into her affections on him. “Coryo, you did so good for me,” y/n quietly praised him and then raised her head to look at him. he shyly looked into her eyes and managed a smile in response. what she did next surprised him immensely. she reached her hand into her pyjama pants and gathered her own white honeydew liquid on her fingers and then drew that hand of hers to Coryo’s own lips, “taste me,” she breathed with a compelling spell on her tongue that had Coryo not even thinking twice before he did as he was told.

she slid her fingers in-between his pretty bow lips, watching it happen with hungry eyes all the while, and Coryo welcomed her digits with delight. his tongue swirled around her fingers as he sucked her liquid off them, and moaned at the taste of her, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. she grinned faintly, just adoring the sight of her fingers in his mouth, his messy curls and pink cheeks. y/n leaned down close to his face and pulled her fingers out slowly, his tongue following right after them. she trailed her fingers across his lips, tracing their edges and corners as Coryo parted them wider, she looked onto him with insatiable hunger, turning him into a complete puddle under her. she kissed his lips with her hand across his cheek, thumb digging into the corner of his lips, right in the middle of her kisses. it turned Coryo on again, even though he deemed it impossible.

“how am i?” y/n asked quietly with a smile on her lips, and Coryo returned the expression.

“sweet like sugar,” he told her the absolute truth, making y/n smile wider. he lightly bit into her thumb as he looked up at her, “we both need to change pyjama pants,” he said quietly, suddenly shy. y/n looked down at between them, which was the last thing Coryo wanted her to do, but the look on her face assured him altogether.

“oh, Coryo, that’s alright,” she assured him about his accident and caressed his cheek with her hand, bearing the sweetest face of all as she looked at him, “don’t be sorry.” she pleaded and Coryo nodded with a true smile on his pink bow lips. he clearly enjoyed listening to her telling him what to do, and had no problem obeying her. “we’ll find some in the laundry room. but after that we’re really going to bed,” she said, and he nodded again, “you do need your rest for tomorrow.”

right, tomorrow. the games were still on, and Coryo was required to attend. he should be walking into Heavensbee hall high and proud—if no one had killed Lucy Gray during the night, of course—acting his best and looking his best, pretending like there was not a scratch on him. another day, another act. though, could he really hide something like what he’d done tonight from the whole world? they were watching, for sure.

“will you be there with me, tomorrow?” he asked as y/n pulled him up from the bed, and she looked up at him with a special glint in her eyes. she could cry at his earnest question. he wanted her there. maybe her little fantasy of them walking into Heavensbee hall hand in hand finally could become reality. they’d kept up the casual classmate relationship appearance to everyone else so far, no one even suspected a thing of the slightest bit of friendship between them. it should be pretty obvious, but their classmates proved otherwise.

y/n squeezed his hand hard in hers and gave him the biggest smile, “of course i will,” she assured him, “if you want me to be there, with you, in front of everyone.” she pointed out and seemed to be asking him a question without actually asking him.

Coryo realized then that this night between them had changed everything. especially this last intimate exchange, but he didn’t exactly know why. it just had changed his whole attitude towards her and their secret friendship that had recently turned into a relationship. he didn’t even care that anyone knew now, in fact – he wanted to show her off to the whole world, he wanted them all to know that he was with her, that he had landed her, that he belonged to her. that was with him, that she loved him, that they loved each other. nothing else mattered to him, really. he forgot about the rest of the world when he was with her.

“i do want that, yes,” Coryo told her with pride on his face, “i want them all to see us.” he said simply, but implied much more, his eyes expressing conviction and charisma, and he made y/n smile wide. smile like she was the happiest girl in the world. with Coryo, she might just be that.

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx @allcheesemelts @dangelnleif @sorry-mrs-jacobs

#har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #coryo snow #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader

287 notes · View notes

wordstome · 3 months

Text

bucca's big masterlist of königs

My beloved @ghouljams has deferred to my expertise of König faces, which made me want to go through and pick my favorite ones. But then I went through my various fanart/könig tags and found so many unmasked König headcanons that I was like hey I should write these down and keep 'em somewhere so I can look at them whenever I'm having a bad day. So here we go!

The first few are my personal favorites, but otherwise they're in no particular order. Be sure to click through to the artists' posts and give them some love :> All artwork has their source embedded. (To the artists: sorry for the tag, I wanted to make it easy for people to click through and find you ;; If you'd like to be removed from this list, please let me know!)

tw for mild body horror and blood

@lettaniko

@floweryanarchy (special shoutout to that handsome-ass Roach. gyatdamn)

@crr0o

@konig-s-hood

@saintmisu

@kathy-ifnt

@no-u-hang-up

@emmaseesghosts (screenshot from tiktok)

clwmeowtan (on tiktok)

@valiants

@bluegiragi

@garbagegrave

@shkretart

@quozacheese

@eyygee

@mustasekittens

@papaver-decervicatus as drawn by @blut-s

@morthern

@cannedmuffins

@namedlunagoddess (this one has a special place in my heart because he looks so exceedingly normal [positive]. I saw this man at the grocery store last week.)

@loneghostwolf

@gghalcyon (please check out the post for this one, I love when people give König an extensive backstory)

@sixleggedboar

@itsnghi (this one is so goddamn cute I need to kiss him)

@yuivamponrest He's not dick-out in this one, but I still don't want to accidentally flashbang anyone or get this post marked mature, so I cropped it. Apologies to the artist, and please please click through and check out the full artwork :3

@camrune

@konigsblau

@houseoftroi

@radcowboylad

@doodleebug13

@cerosin-bis

@glitterypirateduck This is a celebrity faceclaim, but I love it so much I have to have it here. (post by GPD here, gif is linked to original source)

@pettycoeurs

no image for this one. truly one of my all time favorite Königs, so it will be a surprise. enjoy.

#könig #konig #könig unmasked #unmasked könig #König faceclaim #könig face claim #könig face #konig unmasked #könig cod #konig cod #cod #call of duty

275 notes · View notes

strxwberry-milku · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 @wrestlingprincess80 ✰ part1 of the Gif euphoria series

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Desperate!JeyUso x Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Kowing Jey could NEVER resist your pussy you use that to your advantage.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Daddy kink, Sl*t shaming and just full on nastiness

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 840

You and Jey got invited to one of Jimmy’s “ get wrecked ” parties in which you get shit face drunk and do whatever the fuck you want because Naomi and the kids went on holiday too spain for two weeks, so that means PARTY TIME! ( shhh don’t tell her tho ). Before you guys left your house you could already tell that Jey was horny due to him tryna pull up your dress every five seconds but you reassured him that when you guys get back home , he can damage your pussy all night long but for now you have a party to get to.

Pulling up to Jimmy’s house you knocked at the door and patiently waited for him to come out “Hold on guys , lemme just open this beer real quick”he shouted from behind the door , rolling your eyes annoyed you huffed and gave Jey a side eye , almost indirectly saying for him to fix up his brother. Lifting his hands up in defence he said “ Hey don’t blame me, it ain’t my fault your impatient ” and gave your ass a quick slap, before you could do anything back the door opened up and you were engulfed in a bear hug. “Heyyy sisssss , how u beennnn ? i ain’t seen yo ass since the last party .Jey got you locked up in his basement or sumn ?” he goofly remarked, laughing you said “ Nahh i’ve just been busy and shit , tryna keep your LITTLE brother under control “ you mockingly emphasised the “little”cause you knew it would rile him up. Attitude spreaded across his face and he kissed his pearly whites at you and remarked “ quit playin wit me lil girl , cause i wasn’t little when i was deep in ya gu-” Slapping you hand over his mouth you send him a glare and drag him inside the house , with Jimmy laughing behind you guys.

Walking in inside the house ,the stench of alcohol and bounce that ass over filled your nostrils, it almost made you wanna turn back around and leave but it would be a shame because you actually wanted to enjoy yourself so you walked down to the kitchen, swivelling past the drunk , dancing bodies. Reaching the kitchen you closed the door and grabed a red solo cup and poured yourself some of the alcohol fruit punch. Taking a seat on the counter you take a sip of the drink and close your eyes relishing the burning sensation going down your throat.

“ Hey baby , you good ?” Your boyfriend’s voice rang throughout the desolate kitchen scaring the shit outta you , snapping your eyes open you place your hands on your chest “ Baby you scared the shit outta me.” laughing he walked in between your spreaded legs and placed small kisses along your neck “ my bad bae,i ain’t mean to”. Knowing what he was trynna do , you decided to give in and let him take control since you kind of wanted it to and plus , this would be a new experience for the both of you. Pulling you at the edge of the counter he hastily pulls down your red lace panties “ Ooooo kinky , i see you baby ” he says and kneels down to face your already dripping pussy.

You felt a little bad that you were about to fuck on Jimmys counter but all that went down the drain as soon as you felt Jey’s lips kiss and prob at your outer lips.

Moaning in complete bliss , you lock your legs around his head to which he forcefully pries them back open and wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place. “ That’s it baby , let daddy know how good he’s making you feel ” he said as his tongue skilfully glided against your swollen clit. Crying out you grip his hair “ Fuck, Fuck , Fucckkk ” was all you could chant out as you felt Jey’s fingers slowly slide inside your sloppy , wet hole . “You dirty slut , look at you . Imagine if someone was to walk in right now and see you all fucked out on the counter , i bet you would like that wouldn’t you ?” Gasping his filthy words you clutch your eyes closed and start to grip Jey’s hair even tighter , you felt your lower abdomen tense signifying your about to cum all over his face . Growling in response he fingers your pussy faster too the point all you could hear was squelching “ that’s it baby , let it all out , let the people outside hear much of a dirty slut you are”and on command you cum right then and there, eyes rolling back into your head as you squirt unto his freshly cut beard.

Just as Jey was about to say something, the door opens revealing a shocked Naomi and kids….

𝐃𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍𝐍

𝐈𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐬𝐬𝐬𝐬 , 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲𝐲 😭

Ps this ain’t proofread since i was in a rush to get this out so , sorry for the mistakes.

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #jimmy uso x reader #the usos #wwe #roman reigns #my original fiction #roman reigns x reader #wwe superstars #jey uso smut #the bloodline #my original content #main event jey uso #jey uso imagine #wwe wrestlemania #fanfic

246 notes · View notes

biibini · 4 months

Note

Could you possibly write something for modern mizu with a gf that bakes alot during the odd hours at night due to insomnia to past the time :^ due to this, mizu gets gifted a bunch of sweets and pastries

modern!mizu x baker!reader (request)

a/n: this is such a cute idea omg,,, personally im more of a cook over baker (my roomie bakes more than me) but i do like a good pastry. time to add my fav gif of mizu … isn’t she just so dreamy 😻

the first few times u stayed over, u were able to sleep in peace with mizu

surprisingly, ur insomnia didn’t keep u fully awake while ur gf was sleeping

feeling her warm arms wrap around ur body made u feel more secure as u started to slumber

u weren’t fully knocking out every night but it became easier to fall asleep and stay asleep for a good duration of the night

it felt so satisfying to finally sleep through most nights

as midterms became closer & closer, the quality of ur sleep began to decrease dramatically

most nights spent with mizu ended up into some

and then some nights became few

at first, u attempted to hide ur insomnia with using homework and projects as an excuse

initally, they weren’t excuses but u had played the card so much that it started to become one

It was a week and a half before midterms week, aka hell on earth. You and Mizu had just finished dinner, now relaxing on her bed. While she was busy on her phone, you were preparing to find the best way to fall asleep successfully. Staring into your laptop in front of you, you felt her get up from the bed.

She walked over to the bathroom and getting ready to go slumber. You on the other hand, are still mentally stuck on how well you will sleep tonight.

Having insomnia meant having many off days and nights. During high-school, it was more difficult to manage your sleep schedule due to the amount of extra-curricular activities and schoolwork you had to balance while growing up. You’ve found a few ways and simple tricks to fight against it.

One way that helped you calm down during high school was baking. A messy task, yes, but the end result was worth it. It had been a few years since it’s gotten this bad. Junior year was a while ago, and the thought of college during that time sent your stress levels through the roof.

Maybe bringing back baking wouldn’t be so bad…

“Hey baby?”

You snapped out of your empty stare and look up at Mizu.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to wash up soon? It’s past midnight and you have a 9 AM tomorrow.” she reminded. Mizu knew how grumpy you could be the next day if you stayed up too long.

“Yeah, um” you glance at your computer only to find a title slide on a history presentation, “I’ll sleep soon, I just want to finish my part of this project.”

Mizu nodded as she turned off every light except for the night next to you. You look up to her, a small smile growing on your face.

“M’kay,” she placed a hand on your cheek and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “Just not too late.”

She moved to your lips, giving them a good night kiss.

“I’ll try.” You say as you reach for her face to share another good night kiss. You lower the brightness of your laptop as Mizu tucks herself in next to you.

An hour later, you end up finish your part of the presentation. You check your phone to let your group know about your completion. Putting it down, you read the time. 1:30 AM.

Fuck, you should really get some sleep for tomorrow’s lecture.

You slowly get out of bed, checking to make sure Mizu hasn’t waken up from your movement. All you hear is a turn to the other side away from you.

Whew.

You plug in your laptop quickly on the desk, making sure that all the lights in the apartment were closed. You gently tugged at the sheets, tucking yourself in as quietly as you could. As you started to close your eyes, you took a deep breath.

In. Out.

A grumble could be heard from Mizu, turning back towards you. You feel her hands try to find you, slowly grabbing what she could find. As she pulled you closer, you continued to relax your body.

Eyes closed, mind empty.

Yet, your mind does reach a thought. An anxious thought.

What if I wake up tired, like before?

You try to shake away the thought, enveloping yourself with Mizu’s presence. Forcing your eyes shut, you continue to take slow & deep breaths.

2:30 rolls in and you’re still stuck trying to fall asleep. Technically, you should be in dreamland right now instead of being awake. Your eyes are heavy but they not too heavy to completely close. Your body is still yet your mind keeps racing.

You trusted your old tricks would help you fall asleep. Hoping that they would work, your mind finally begins to clear up and rest.

as the days went by, it got progressively worse and worse

it went to the point where u were just always up, maybe spare an hour or two for a nap, and then the nightly attempt to fall asleep next to mizu

ur aware of what was happening yet ur mind wouldn’t stop running at full speed

u wish ur mind would just shut off

and if it wasn’t ur mind staying awake for once, it was ur body keeping u awake

it was so tiring to think ab peace night after night after night, hoping for a good nights sleep but to end up feeling drained and half awake once the sun rose

on nights where ur mind or body wouldn’t shut down, u ended up succumbing to ur old habits and took out the baking pan & sheets

u thought u could stay quiet like a few years before

on the other hand, mizu began to notice the slight changes in the house

whenever she would wake up for morning workouts, ur laptop would open and on ur lap

or the baking pan and whisks and mixing bowls would be dripping wet on the drying rack

once she found a new loaf of bread in the pantry, something was up

she figured u were just up cleaning late at night as a break from the late night homework grind

but with the random loaf, it didn’t quite fit the story she had in mind

one early morning, she heard a metal noise mid toilet and tiktok session in

(a/n: i’m guilty of doing that too sorry)

concerned, she went go check in the bedroom to find an empty bed

“Y/N?” she quietly called into the hallway.

God damnit.

You had accidentally banged the baking pan on the oven’s metal rack. You quickly slid the pan into the oven, hoping the croissants u had just prepped wouldn’t be seen. You peeked over your shoulder to see Mizu’s eyes half awake, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

You quickly checked the time on the clock. No way it was already time for her workout.

5:30 AM.

“Morning, Mizu.” A weak smile spread on your face. You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, stemming from the embarrassment of getting caught in the act.

“I just went to the bathroom and heard a noise. What’s going on, Y/N?”

She looked down into the oven, spotting the croissants.

“Did you want a sweet treat that badly?” her voice questioning you and slightly concerned. She walked towards you and gently pressed your hand.

“No, it’s just that…”

“That?”

You took a deep breath as you glanced down at her hand grasping onto yours. You look up to her eyes, ready to tell the truth. Her blue eyes seemed more awake and ready to listen, almost glowing in the dark.

“I have insomnia.” You let the truth spill out. “It hasn’t been this bad since high school but coping with it has been a bit difficult these days. I’ve tried so many ways to shut my mind off but nothing’s working.”

“Aw, baby…”

“And the best way I managed it back when it was worse was baking. It helped me keep my mind off things and pass the time.” You took a step back to find your phone and put on a timer for 12 minutes.

“So here I am. Back to old habits.” You ended, sighing in relief. You weren’t sure of what Mizu’s reaction would be. A little part of you was frightened, anxiously waiting for her response.

You didn’t expect her next actions. She let go of your hand and headed toward the sink, calmly washing the bowls and other dishes that have collected over the night.

Stunned, you watched as she continued to wash up. You looked over to see her reaction only to find a calm face.

“Mizu?” you asked, still confused about her response.

She looked up, her hands still cleaning the mixing bowls you had used.

“Did you need help with anything else before I go to the gym? I know insomnia must be hard to cope with but if this is what helps you pass the time,” Mizu finishing the final bowl, placing it gently on the dishwasher rack. “I’d like to help out in any way I can.”

“No, I’m okay but thank you for cleaning up for me.” Coming up to her, you give her a kiss on the cheek. She smiles at you and nods.

“Anytime, hon.”

She takes a glance at the clock. 5:40 AM.

“I’m gonna get ready now. Let me know if you need anything or any ingredients.” She hurries into the bedroom, getting ready to change into gym clothes.

“Okayyy.” You say, checking your phone for the timer.

A thought comes to mind.

“Actually, there is one thing you can do.” You say, following her into the bedroom. Mizu, mid-tying her hair, paused and gave you her full attention. “You can be my little taste tester.”

She chuckled as she fixed her hair into a bun.

“I get first dibs? For lil ol’ me?”, she says playfully as she grabs one of her light zip-up jackets from the closet, completing her workout outfit.

You nod happily. “Mhm. You can even request a recipe or two.”

How enticing, Mizu thought.

if u were up during her workout days, she would always find a fresh batch of pastries sitting on the dining table

on days that her or ringo had classes, u would leave a little bag or container of pastries that they go bring to school

u would always leave a little love note with a little heart and a “To my Mizu”

mizu loved the little gifts, especially if they were at her request

one night, she asked for a peach cobbler pie

woke up the next morning to find a slice in a container and a sticky note atop reading “a request for my love ♥︎”

she placed the sticky note by her desk

and brought the slice to school with her

after her class she shared with akemi, they decided to get some late morning tea by the coffee shop nearby

mizu’s eyes widen after the first bite settled in

it was bomb

peaches were practically bursting in her mouth

she continued to eat, trying to contain the deliciousness of the pie

she would text u later ab how good it was

in full detail

many paragraphs

many positive critiques

and end with a thank you for ur baking ♥︎

#mizu x y/n #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu headcanons #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu come home the kids miss you #anon ask #send anons #modern mizu

273 notes · View notes

doudouneverte · 5 months

Note

hii, how are u?

i've been obsessed w feli but sadly there aren't many fics w her.

could you write some angst+fluff for her? reader is sad that she can't introduce felicitas to her parents, because theyre not in the picture anymore (you can choose why) and feli comforts reader, but r feels like a burden?

a/n: oh, I love this one. Sorry for the wait but school is messing with my writing time...

"It's okay, I'm here"

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Felicitas Rauch x FRAWNT!reader

Summary: based on the request above

Type: Angst + Fluff

Warning: bad parents, homophobia (homophobic parents)

word count: 3398

--------

Back to the changing at the end of training, joy and excitement for the next game were clearly drowning the room. It will be the final of the DFB-Pokal against Freiburg. While the girls were planning things for the next day, you were discussing something with Svenja until music started to play in the room and you felt someone dragging you by the arm. You looked at them to find your girlfriend, Felicitas Rauch, visibly very excited to dance. You were exhausted and just wanted to get dressed and go back home, but her smile made you give up.

After a little dance and finally getting changed, you waited for your girlfriend in the parking lot, where you resumed your conversation with your captain.

"So, how was your little trip with Feli last week?" The German player asked.

"It was pretty cool. We didn't do anything special, but you know, with her, everything is special."

"Aww, look at you. You're too cute when you talk about her like that."

"I mean it. I don't really need to do something; I'm just grateful she's here, and I thought about..." You interrupted yourself when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. Before you could speak again, your girlfriend wrapped you in a tight hug and left some kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

"Okay, I think I'll let you enjoy your time together. We will see each other tomorrow." Svenja told you. You just nodded before she left, and you entered your car with the defender.

Back in your shared house, you exaggerated a groan before you left your shoes and your training bag at the entrance before collapsing on the couch. Feli laughed at your attitude before she joined you with Cinnamon in her arms.

"Oh, come on, training was rather light today." She said letting the dog sit on your lap before snuggling against your tired body.

"I know, but I didn't sleep enough yesterday, so I'm very tired." You explained.

"Don't worry, tomorrow is a day off. I know the girls proposed to have lunch, but if you're very tired, we can stay at home."

"I would love that, but you forgot something." You said making her a little confused. "Tonight, Julie, come, and we also need to prepare something for tomorrow." You remembered her.

Julie was your little sister, and the next day would be her birthday—well, not exactly. She already had her birthday the day prior, but since you started to play in Germany, she always comes to celebrate with you a few days later.

Feli knew about that. At least about the version you always told her—that being busy meant that your sister always had to come to Germany to spend time with you. It was actually true, but not the full version.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Do you need my help for anything?" Your girlfriend asked.

"Um, I think I just have to buy eggs and flour to make a cake for tomorrow, but don't worry I-"

"I'll do it!" The defender cut you. "Let it to me. You know how much I love your sister. Don't worry, you can go pick up her, and I'll buy everything we need for tomorrow." She assured you.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, I know you can deal with everything, but I don't want to force you to do anything. We just came back from training; you're tired."

"And so you are. Don't worry; I promise you it's okay. I love to pamper her." She stole you a kiss before standing. "Okay now, come on, we need to take a shower before we go."

"I don't know if I ever told you, but I'm really lucky to have you." You said before following.

"I know, you say it every day." She commented.

"And you don't know how much it means to me." You whispered before kissing her. The defender didn't hear you, but she still reciprocated the affection.

An hour and a half later, you were finally ready to leave, and it took you only thirty minutes to reach your destination. Like expected, your sister was waiting for you, and she immediately caught you in a hug when she saw you.

"Je commençais à croire que tu m'avais oublié. (I started to think that you forgot me.)" She said after you pulled away.

"Arrête de faire ta drama queen, je viens a peine de finir mon entrainement. (Stop doing your drama queen; I just finished my training.)" You replied. "Now let's go. I have a girlfriend that I want to see." You added while you started to put her luggage on the backseat.

"Oh, come on, you see her every day." She said before taking place on the passenger side, you rolled your eyes and decided not to talk back.

The ride back was filled with laughter and pure enjoyment at being reunited. Back at home, Feli was already here, and of course the two women instantly fell in each other's arms.

"Wow, okay, I already got replaced." You said irronicaly.

"Oh, come on, don't act like that; you are always with her." Your sister said.

"Okay, I don't want any arguments today; I'm really tired, and I think we all need to have a good night. So, now girls, let's eat and sleep." Feli said ending any potential sibling argument.

"Yes, ma'am." you both said before heading to the kitchen.

-----

The next day, you were awakened by a very excited defender, and because she had to be quiet, you found it very cute. When she realized that you were fully awake, she didn't waste more time before leading you into the living room to show you what she started to do.

"Wow, why are you so excited?" you asked her after almost tripping on your own foot.

"Look at this." The defender showed you all the decorations she made a little earlier. "I just need your help with something. But before that, what do you think about this?" she asked you.

"That's... incredible," you finished. "I didn't know you had so much talent to decorate this place," you added, really surprised.

"Thans. I didn't want to awaken you because I know that you were very tired yesterday."

"Oh, come on, babe, you know you're maybe the only person who is allowed to wake me up whenever you want." You said while you rolled your arms around her hips. "I meant it when I said that I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Okay, now stop being cheesy and kiss me before the baby wakes up and starts to complain because we show 'too much love'." She mimicked your sister's voice.

Just after attaching your lips to Feli's, you heard someone making some disgusted noises behind you.

"I can't leave you two alone for five minutes," your sister said, making you roll your eyes. "And by the way, I'm not a baby anymore," she added.

"You need to stop eardropping, you little dipshit." You said earning a firm slap from your girlfriend.

"Okay, let's not talk about that." Feli said, escaping from your arms to hug your sister. "Happy birthday, Prinzessin (princess)."

"Oh, and now she's been called Princess; you never called me like that before." You said while you filled a cup of water.

"Stop pouting, mommy; it doesn't suit you." Your sister said making you choke on the water, and Feli blushed more quickly than ever seen.

"Julie!" you both yelled.

"What? It's your own fault to not be quiet while you....you have your affairs," she replied with a disgusted look.

"Please, someone kill me right now." Feli said this dramatically before going back to your shared bedroom.

You were about to say something when your sister's phone rang. She looked at it, then looked at you with a curious expression. You didn't have to ask before she showed you who was calling; it was your mom.

You picked up for her and quickly pressed the phone on her before leaving the room. On your way to go somewhere far away from your sister's phone, you collided with the defender.

"Hey, where are you going? We haven't given her her present yet." You didn't reply and just dragged her back from where she came out.

"I just want to cuddle with you while she's on the phone."

Feli was aware that something was strange after your request. Of course, it was not unusual for the defender that you asked something like that, but when Julie came to visit, you were always stuck with each other. Sometimes the defender felt like the third wheel, but she knew that because you couldn't see her as much as you wanted, it was logical that you wanted to spend all your time with her.

"Is everything okay?" The defender asked carefully while you were lying on top of her with your head hidden in the crook of her neck.

"Yes," you replied quickly, but without moving.

"Are you sure? Because usually you would be annoying Julie knowing that she can't do anything while she's on the phone." She said with a little smile on her face, reminding herself every time you did that and your sister chasing you around the hole house after.

"Yeah, don't worry, I just want to spend some alone time with you."

"Okay." She replied and started to play with your hair. A few seconds later, she heard someone knock on the door. "Come in."

Julie opened the door and immediately felt bad for you when she saw you curled against your girlfriend's body. "Uh, Y/n?" She called you, a little unsure of how she should announce it. When she heard you hum, she took a rather long moment before dropping the bomb. "Mom called. She asked if I was planning to come home soon and told her that I would stay until your next game." She took a pause, letting your girlfriend be confused for a moment. "Her and dad will come to see you play tomorrow."

"That's super!" Your girlfriend sheered, but when she was not met with the same excitement from both of you, she reconsidered it.

"Svenja wants to see me," you said before leaving the bed and heading to the bathroom. "I think it would be cool if you came too; I promised her to let her know when you come to visit," you said to your sister before closing the door.

Feli stayed there, trying to process whatever was happening. She didn't have to wait too long before you came back and started to get dressed.

"Listen, I don't know what's happening right now, but you do really need to leave right now?" the defender asked.

"Don't worry, we will be really quick." You tried to reassure her with a light peck on her lips, but she could feel that you were not totally honest with that. Even if she wanted to stop you or invited herself, she knew (almost) more than anyone to not overstep things with you.

~~~~~

"Well, when you say that something bad happened, I didn't know it was that bad." Svenja said while you were trying to be eaten alive by her couch.

"At least they didn't show up unnacounced." Julie said.

"Why do they have to come when we play a final? They had all the season to come and be as disrespectful as they wanted; why did they choose one of the most important games?" You asked no one.

"I think you should tell her." Your captain proposed.

"I can't..." You started to feel some tears filling your eyes.

"Y/n, I agreed to keep it for myself because we were sure that they would never come here to see you, but now things are different."

You sighed and tried to restrain some tears.

"Don't worry, we will be there if you need anything." Svenja reminded you.

~~~~~

An hour later, you were back at home. Feli noticed the change in mood but didn't say anything, at least not to you. She waited until you went to your bedroom to take your sister apart.

"Julie, what happened?" The defender asked.

"I don't think I'm the right person to talk to you about. I think you should see it directly with her." Your sister replied. "And honestly, I think she may need your help." She added.

In the bedroom, you were curled up on the bed while trying to stop spiraling–which was almost impossible–when you heard the door getting opened. You didn't have to look to know that it was your girlfriend who was visibly worried about your state.

"Hey liebe(love), what's going on?" She asked after she sat next to you.

"I don't want to play tomorrow." You said making her more worried than before.

"Why?"

"Because that means I would have to see them, which I don't want."

"Who? Your parents?" You didn't reply and just nodded. She laid down next to you and cuddled you as much as possible. "Listen, I don't know what happened with them, but can you explain me why you feel like that? You are usually the one who always complains that they never come to see you play, and now you're not happy with that."

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Of course, I want Y/n. They're the ones who raised you, and... they're your parents."

"They were." You stated making the defender's heart shatter at your expression. "They stopped being my parents at the moment they stopped seeing me like their daughter."

"What happened?" She asked after a little silence.

"Nothing," you replied. Your body was slightly shaking, and you were crying again. "nothing happened. They just hate me because I... because I..." You couldn't find the strength to finish your sentence while you were remembering your sudden departure from the place you once called home.

Feli tried to calm you, but nothing seemed to work.

"They hate me because I love you." You said, and now the defender started to put some pieces together.

"They don't like who you are?" She asked, and you shook your head. She finally dragged you into a bone-crushing hug while you continued to cry on her shoulder.

"It's okay, babe; I'm here. I'll not leave you." She said trying to shush you.

"I don't want to see them, please." You pleaded to no one because you knew that whatever happened, you would have to face them.

Your girlfriend pulled away from the hug and cleared some tears from your face. "Hey, hear me out, mein liebe(my love). Even if these people don't like you, we will always be there for you. Me, Julie, and the team. And even Cinnamon and my parents too." She kissed one cheek and the other before she spoke again. "If they don't love you because of who you are, that's their problem. For me, you are the most beautiful and incredible woman who ever walked on this planet; you are perfect, and nothing could change that. I will not let some horrible people think that they can change that. I love you, and I don't care if I have to fight your parents or the entire planet to have you by my side, because I would definitely do it."

Your sobs were more calm after her confession. That was the first time someone said something like that to you. "Do you mean it?" You asked.

"Of course. And look, my parents already love you, so you don't have to care about what your parents think about us. And I was thinking that if one day I have to ask for someone's blessing to marry you, it will definitely be your sister..."

She continued to ramble for a moment until you kissed her, and she realized what she said.

"I mean only if you want, of course." She said making you laugh quietly.

"Let me some time to think about it, but I would be happy with that."

You stayed in your girlfriend's arms for a moment until you heard someone knock on the door. When Julie opened it, she could tell that you cried a lot, but from your expression and Feli's tight grip, she could also guess that you finally decided to tell her about your past.

"Excuse me, I don't want to ruin anything, but I think we have a birthday to celebrate, and we still don't do anything today." Your sister reminded you.

~~~~~

The final whistle announced the end of the match, and with that, your victory. You were celebrating with your teammates when you spotted your sister and your parents among the VfL fans. You shoot a sincere smile at your sister but decide to ignore the other adults to not ruin the mood of the team.

After a little celebration in the locker room, it was time to leave. You were in the bus waiting for Feli to come, but the defender didn't show up since you left her a few minutes earlier.

"Hey, Poppi, do you know where Feli is?" You asked your captain, a little confused, not to see your girlfriend anywhere.

"She said she had someone to see, but she should be back really quickly." The striker replied, and despite your pout, there was nothing you could do except text her.

In the parking lot, your sister was talking with your parents when they heard someone coming in their direction.

"Feli?" Your sister asked very confusedly.

"Hi Prinzessin, I hope you enjoyed the game." The defender said while she hugged the younger woman. After she pulled away, she looked at your parents and held her hand, which they shook much to her surprise. "Hi, I'm Felicitas Rauch. I think you saw me play earlier."

"Yeah. We don't usually watch football; we came because our little girl wanted to see this match, but I need to say that I'm very impressed by your performance." Your mom said with a rather bright smile, and that's almost made your girlfriend feel sad to know that the smile that she loves the most came from someone who hates you the most.

"Yes, I have to say that I agree with my wife on that; your team was very good." Your father added, and the defender offered them a fake smile. Julie watched the interaction, totally flabbergasted by everything.

"Thank you. I really appreciate that, but I came to talk to you about something else." The German said, earning a confused look from the couple. "I'm Y/n's girlfriend." At those words, your parents faces changed suddenly. The bright and welcoming smile was quickly replaced by a heinous and disgusted expression. "See, I'm not here to ask for your blessings or anything like that. No, I came to tell you to never show in front of her again. You already destroyed her too much in the past, and it took me a very long time to put the pieces together. I don't know why you showed up today, but judging by your expression and your lack of good feelings for her, I don't think you're here to make things up. I just want you to leave and never come back. You ignored her for the most part of her career. I think it will not be very difficult to do the same a little longer."

"I knew it." Julie mumbled to herself after your girlfriend finished her speech.

"I don't say goodbye; just go straight to hell and leave her alone." The defender said before going back to the team bus.

Almost five minutes later, you were talking with Dom and Lena when you saw your girlfriend finally walking to the bus with an angry expression. However, this feeling totally got washed away when she saw you tap the seat next to you to indicate that you had saved her a seat. She crashed next to you and intertwined your fingers before resting her head on your shoulder.

"Where were you?" You asked quietly.

"Saying goodbye to someone." She said with a proud smile. When you nodded and were about to resume your previous chat, she grabbed your face with her free hand, making you look at her. "I'm really lucky to have you in my life, mein liebe." She said making you blush.

"I'm very lucky too." You replied. "I love you."

"I love you too."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #feli rauch #felicitas rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader #vfl wolfsburg women #vfl wolfsburg women x reader

208 notes · View notes

foli-vora · 2 years

Note

Congratulations Foli!!! You deserve all those followers and more.

How about #146 “Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, I was just..” “Want some help?” with Frankie? Maybe a friends to lovers vibe? 👀

And no pressure! I know prompts can be hit or miss, muse-wise 💕

hello my angel! thank you so much, and thank you for your request! friends to lovers? baby, you are speaking my language! i had so much fun writing this - i hope you enjoy, lovely!

caught out

frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 2k warnings: STRICTLY 18+ ONLY. masturbation (f), eavesdropping/slight voyeurism, spiiice, bumpin' & grindin', the utter softness that this man makes me feel

[gif by moi]

It’s the need for tools that brings him to your house on a Saturday afternoon, standing outside your pale green front door with his shades shielding his eyes from the warm spring sun. You hadn’t responded to his text of ‘are you home?’ and he briefly wonders if you had plans.

He knocks, waiting a beat before knocking again. Not home, then.

He works his keys from his back pocket and fingers through the different ones until he finds yours, slipping it into the lock and letting himself in. You wouldn’t mind – you never did.

You made it clear when giving him a key that he was free to come and go as he pleased, unlike Benny who was now on a strict policy to only let himself into your home with explicit permission after he ended up eating the leftovers you had saved and were excited to eat after work. The younger Miller barely survived that ordeal.

He toes his boots off quietly by the door before making a move for your kitchen, knowing the last time he had his wrench set was when he fixed your shitty sink last week. You really need a new one – how many times did he need to fix that thing before you accepted that fact? So stubborn.

It’s when he’s rifling through your cupboard, his sunglasses discarded on the countertop, that he thinks he hears you calling to him. It was definitely his name, and it was definitely you… so maybe you were home. Looking around your place, you wouldn’t think so. No lights were on, no music or TV or any other sounds of life. Maybe you’d been sleeping?

A brief flash of guilt swims in his chest from disturbing you and he straightens, closing the cupboards softly and poking his head out of the kitchen, expecting you to be walking his way with that tender little smile that makes his heart launch into his throat every fucking time.

It was hard, reigning in the force of his not-so-little crush every damn time he saw you. You just worked so well as friends though, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had with a relationship. And as far as he knew, you weren’t interested in seeing anyone. No… it was better to keep the bond you had as it was now. He’d only screw it up.

You’re nowhere to be found when he looks, and a frown starts to form between his brows.

You call for him again, and something deep in his gut stirs at the way you sound. Were you hurt?

A part of him seemingly knows it’s not that, but a wave of concern grows anyway and washes away the prickle of heat taking over his skin. He steps towards your room, studying the way the door falls open just a crack and your darkened room beyond.

He goes to speak, to reassure you it was him, but stops at the very faint sound of buzzing, a barely there hum filling the air. He wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t so focused on it. Another whimper of his name carries to his ears and it all hits him like lightning.

God, were you –

He sucks in a breath and his hands clench into fists at his sides, his mind now screaming at him to leave. This isn’t right, he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on something so personal, so intimate, like a damn creep.

He should absolutely leave. He should slip out as quickly and quietly as he did upon entering. He needs to leave. Right now. He should leave –

Why can’t he fucking move?

His jeans pull tighter as his cock swells within the confines of them, straining against the rough fabric and throbbing with each mental image his brain throws at him.

Were you completely nude? Were you still dressed, clothes merely shoved haphazardly out of the way in your desperation to get off? How were you positioned? Was it a bullet? A vibrating dildo? How did you look taking it?

“Shit,” he curses lowly, a small curl of disgust at himself building in his gut and snapping him free from the haze of lust and hunger filling his mind.

His hands itch to touch you, to follow your guidance and learn every little thing that makes your breath catch; your toes curl; your hands tighten in his hair until it feels like you’d pull it right out of his scalp…

No.

No, he needs to leave, but then… maybe you wouldn’t mind if he lets his presence known. You are calling for him, after all. It’s his name on your lips while you’re lost in whatever bliss you’re drowning yourself in. His name — no one else's. Does that mean you feel the same as him? Was it purely sexual? Was it –

Lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts, he doesn’t realise how close his leg comes to the vintage console table lining your wall. The corner of the solid timber catches his hip and the thing jolts, an already badly balanced frame falling at the sudden knock and it slaps face down loudly.

Fuck. Fucking fuck.

The soft noise abruptly stops in your bedroom at the sudden disturbance, and he panics, smoothing his sweaty palms down his jeans and fixing the way they sit over his stiff cock. Hopefully they were tight enough to keep it hidden.

“Hey, it’s me.” He calls, fixing the frame and desperately trying to make it look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping on you getting yourself off.

“Frankie?”

His heart thunders at your voice.

It takes a few moments for you to get yourself together, and in those few moments he thinks of anything and everything to quell the wild erection straining against fly. Fuck, why won’t it go away?

Soon your bedroom door is pulled open and then there you are, your crumpled tee caught in the waistband of your sleep shorts, no doubt from being pulled on in a panic. He tears his eyes away from your body and forces a smile, desperately trying to calm the tremble in his hands.

“Sorry, I was just – I did knock… I thought you weren’t home. I’m just here to grab my wrench set.”

“Oh!” You breathe, clearing your throat softly and discreetly fixing the way your clothes cling to you. “Right. Sorry about that, I must’ve not heard you. Yeah I uh – I moved them into the garage. Um, they’re on the shelf… next to your drill.”

He nods, rocking back onto his heels and digging his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, hoping you don’t notice the way he positions his hands to make sure there’s no evidence of any sort of… obvious lumps.

His tongue runs along his lower lip, deliberating on whether or not to broach the topic. He could leave it right here – take his tools and just leave like the original plan had been. He could keep what you have and not make it awkward, not potentially risk losing the friendship you both had crafted…

Or he could take the risk. He could push it, just a little, and see where it goes. You were calling for him, you were thinking of him… that obviously meant you felt something surely.

“Were you…”

Say it.

Say it, you fucking coward.

“Were you just masturbating?”

Mortification fills you with a flush of heat along your skin, flooding your cheeks and turning your face to flames. Your flight instinct rears to life in the back of your mind. God, he heard you. How could you explain this? Had he heard you saying his name? Moaning it? Was he uncomfortable?

Of course he’s uncomfortable! You inwardly cringe, your heart that had previously been erratic from your desperation in search of bliss, now hurried due to the panic growing in your chest. Your stomach lurches at the possibility of losing his friendship. You’d done so well hiding your crush over the time you’d known him, and now it was all falling apart.

“U-uh… no. Of course not! I was just –”

He watches you quietly, those beautifully deep, observant eyes flickering across your face as you desperately try to string together an excuse. He knows you’re lying. Of course he knows. He knows you better than anyone – a lie hurriedly crafted in the midst of your humiliation and panic would be all too easy for him to see through.

“Tell me,” he insists, his tone low and soft.

Something about the way he gazes at you, his eyes burning with something you just can’t place – hope? desire? – it gently coaxes the heat that had previously been dowsed back into a flame, settling low and churning in your core. It gives you a small shove of courage, and you squirm a little where you stand.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, “I was.”

He exhales sharply, his throat bobbing with a swallow as he nods, almost expectantly. “And who were you thinking of?”

“You, Francisco. I was thinking of you.”

Silence falls over the both of you, but it’s not uncomfortable. No, the air feels charged. You feel it run along the skin of the back of your neck and down along your spine, the darkening of his gaze building a strong tightening of anticipation in your chest. This can’t be happening… can it?

Finally – he moves, standing straighter and letting his gaze roll along your frame hungrily. “Want some help?”

What? Fuck.

You can’t get the word out quick enough.

“Yes –”

He moves instantly, striding forward and curling a large hand against your skin to cup your cheek before tilting your head and claiming your mouth. Fucking finally.

His moustache tickles in the best of way, as you always suspected. His lips are soft and supple against yours, quickly giving way to an urgency you endeavour to keep up with. You’re weak against him, the strong arm that curls around your back pulling at you until you’re flush against his body.

You surrender to the ferocity of his kiss, parting your lips at the gentle probe of his tongue and meeting it with your own. He groans softly into your mouth, your hands winding around his neck and twisting your fingers into his hair.

The breath leaves your lungs when his hand drops to palm your ass, his fingers digging harshly into the fleshy swell of it and it’s your turn to moan when you feel the noticeable solid bulge in his jeans, pressing and rubbing against your mound.

Still sensitive from your previous attention to it, your clit throbs with each eager grind against his hard cock, the desperate roll of your hips encouraged by the hand planted on your ass. The thin material of your sleep shorts allows you to feel the roughness of his jeans as if there were nothing there at all, and you’re suddenly incredibly thankful for skipping underwear in your hurry to get dressed.

“Is this a bad idea?” You breathe, breaking away from the greedy pursuit of his mouth and blinking at him with a shine of worry growing in your eyes.

Though everything feels so right in the moment, you feel the stirrings of anxiety creep along the edges of your mind.

You adore Frankie – you don’t think you’d cope very well with losing him. The mere idea of it births an ache deep in your chest and you wonder if your friendship would even be salvageable after rubbing up on each other like this. How could you ever act normal around him after feeling and tasting him the way you have?

He takes a moment to try and level his breathing, swiping his tongue along his lower lip and catching the remnants of your saliva. He fights the urge to dive back in for another taste of your mouth as his heart runs wild in his chest, trying to hold back the vicious denial building in his throat.

“I don’t know,” he returns quietly, searching your face for any clues as to your answer. “Is it?”

He waits, hanging suspended in the moment. Can you see the hope in his gaze? The devotion? Can you feel the way he’s wanted this for so long?

“No,” you decide after a moment of studying him, your fingers toying with the short waves at the nape of his neck, rolling and twisting the silky soft strands. “I don’t think this is a bad idea.”

“No?”

You smile that smile and he feels his chest tighten at the adoring warmth of it. “It’s always been you, Frankie.”

He exhales lightly, the corners of his lips twitching below his moustache with the threat of a smile. His thumb brushes the skin of your cheek and you soak in the affectionate action, your heart wild against your ribs.

“It’s always been you.”

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @william-butcher, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @h-hxgirl, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx

frankie morales tags: @a-reader-and-a-writer, @sanfransolomitatm, @pedrohoe04, @evyiione, @stardust-galaxies, @xjsteph, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @notagamersdey, @fuckoffbard, @yt-adriana, @dins-cyare, @clydesducktape, @serini-ty, @chaoticevilbakugo, @breakfastonpluto19

#foli's 3k #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader

1K notes · View notes