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#road to 2.5k
busanboykoo · 7 months
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Champagne Confetti ⋆ j.jk
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summary ⋆ “you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.
pairing ⋆ racer!jk x reader
genre ⋆ smüt, a little plot, fluff?
warning ⋆ püssy whipped!himbo!kook, they’re so in lovvve but jungkook is much more in love!! fingëring, reader is pathetically horny, messy make out with reader’s püssy, puthay eating. squirting??? lover jungkook always, cüssing & overstimulation oh and mention of his brow piercing cause why not?!!
notes ⋆ ok so i just got back to writing smut aaand it’s been a while so wait for me until i improvise back to what i used to right!! and also a huge thanks to clover lover @dollfaceksj for beta-ing ⭐️ ily!! thank u sm <3 — word count ⋆ 2.5k !!
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“I want you.”
These three words were the one that put you under this situation.
Right under him as he settled himself between your legs. Everything about now felt hot. The AC is on full power but the heat you’re feeling is hotter than anything.
Your brows are cinched when Jungkook places his hand on your thighs, the rough skin of his palm on your soft skin smoothly, pressing and kneading on the flesh. He is comfortably kneeling between your legs, his control face now relaxed.
“Tell me what you want.” His eyes flick between yours and down to your exposed and soaked panties in return, biting on his scarlet lips. Your skin feels tingly, your forehead beginning to create a sheen of sweat. Your room is getting hotter and hotter and the AC is not helping at all.
You’re so quiet, not even sounding like the minx you were mere seconds ago. “C’mon, baby,” Jungkook encourages, wanting to hear you loud and clear for him.
You want him. You want everything all at once.
You still can’t erase the memories of him racing half an hour ago. How his skillful hand gripped the wheel, how his thighs flexed as he controlled the gas pedal or how he kept his jaw clenched and eyes focused on the foggy road with a stern yet soft, ‘hold on tight’ when he sped up before drifting for the hundredth time.
The ‘whoo-hoo’s and applause from both of your racer friends and their partners was a bonus — and him winning first place made you want him to do every sinful thing to you.
You want Jungkook so bad all over your skin. Want him to kiss you, want him to bite on your skin, bruise you with weeks-lasting love bites. You can’t just fathom the need that’s circulating through your blood.
A soft squeeze on your ankle makes your thoughts focus on Jungkook again, who is staring at you with need and desire. “Speak up, baby. Need to know what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours,” he taunts.
“You’ll do what I want?” Your voice is barely audible for you, airy with lust. You’re feeling the wetness of your own cunt between your thighs and you’re one-hundred percent sure Jungkook can spot the dark spot on your panties beneath your skirt.
Jungkook just gives you an eager nod.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers while leaning to give you a soft but calculated peck on your lips. “Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.” He sounds so confident, smirking against your lips when your breathy whimper surfaces out.
Jungkook always likes being on top. He makes weird excuses saying he wants to see how pretty you are when you break under him. He’s just whipped to see you in pleasure, fighting to fill your lungs with air and crying when you cum.
“Wa-want you to touch me.” You don’t like how your voice cracks, making Jungkook’s stupid smirk grow more. You’re so pathetic when you’re horny.
You hate it. He loves it.
“Touch you where?” he asks, coaxing his head a little. Oh, so, he’s teasing?
“Jeon, please.” You blink, your throat drying up without even getting started. “Need you s’much, I want to feel you!” Your voice raises to a higher pitch.
Jungkook thinks you’re very lucky he is way too needy or it’s would have ended up making you cry just by torturing and teasing. So, Jungkook pushes your legs further apart, making himself much more comfortable.
“Gonna start all the way from here.” He presses his finger against your covered clit, adding pressure. Your legs twitch, almost closing but his body stills you. “How about that?”
You just give him a weak nod, too overwhelmed from the sudden touch against your sensitive spot.
Jungkook starts to slide up and down your clothed pussy, making your panties grind against your folds, his index finger now coated with your arousal. “Words, pretty girl.”
You mewl when he adds even more pressure.
“Yes, please,” you moan, head falling back against your pillow.
Jungkook swallows the urge to just undress you and fuck you sensless. He needs to get you ready so he won’t hurt you. But mostly, he wants to taste you first. And so, your boyfriend removes his jacket from his body and tosses it somewhere across the room.
Latching his fingers from your sex, making you cry and annoyed with the sudden disappearance of his touch and your pleasure. “This needs to go.” He runs his fingers to your hips before he tugs your panties and skirt down to your ankle, chuckling when you quickly push them off, before tossing them aside by yourself.
“Easy, baby. I’m not going anywhere without making you cum,” he states, getting back to where he left you.
This time he doesn’t tease you, he just keeps your gaze locked with his as he settles himself between your legs on his stomach and drapes your left leg on his shoulder. He pushes your other leg further before pinning it with his strong grip.
You take a deep breath, ready to be blown to the sky and see the stars he wants you to. He starts kissing your inner thigh, his eyes still locked with yours.
“Jeon,” you threaten, wanting him to stop his silly games and finally go down on you. But your boyfriend just giggles, eyes squinting and brow piercing twitching.
“But it’s so fun to see you like this,” he persists, making your chest tighten with impatience.
��I swear, Jun— aah!” Your threat is short-lived when Jungkook wraps his lips around your pearl, making you jolt forward and almost sit up.
Starting off gently, his wet muscle just presses against your clit, not moving but just letting his saliva smear and trail its way to your pussy.
“Hmm, move.” You don’t understand why he won’t listen to you. He asked what you wanted and now that you’ve told him, he decides to pull this stunt?
Jungkook just watches you with a knitted brows, his jaw tensing from the position he’s set now. He decides it’s enough and starts to move his tongue in an ‘eight’ motion. You spread your thighs wider, silently begging for him to give you the pleasure you want.
He leans back, admiring how your slit leaks. You prop up by your elbows and your cheeks start to heat up when Jungkook just stares at your sex.
“No,” he says when you start to close your legs, feeling shy all over again. “Keep ‘em open.” He brings his index and middle to your folds before parting them, exposing your cunt to him.
“You’re staring weird!” You try to defend, attempting to swing your legs off his shoulders but he’s fast enough to roughly pull you back by your ankle and pin the other back.
“No. I'm admiring what’s mine.”
His words reach your ears and it makes you mentally roll your eyes. You want to play who-said-so but you also don’t want to end up being left without a blinding orgasm pending.
“Kook, please, that’s enoug–” You can’t even finish your words again when he’s back at your leaking sex. Rougher, more eager.
“Oh, God.” Your back arches, making Jungkook’s suction on your pussy disrupt which causes him to groan. You swear you can see the stars on the back of your eyelids now. He roughly pushes your body down by your pelvis and huffs a ‘stay still’ before grinding his nose into your sensitive folds.
Jungkook makes his way down to your slit, his tongue circling your tight hole. Your short but deep breath has his dick twitching under his leather pants, making the fabric even tighter than it is.
“Yes, yes! Yes, please, Kook.” Your gasping voice only makes it harder for him. His hand, the one that was pinning your leg to the bed, slides down to palm himself.
“Mhm.” He moans to your cunt and you cry out, your fingers tangled in your hair, trying to distract yourself from the sudden stimulation but it ends with you giving yourself even more pleasure.
He brings his hand from his pants right back to your sopping sex, fingers replacing what he couldn’t get in his mouth, sucking and fucking you both with his skillful mouth and finger.
This is extreme, everything becomes too much. More than what you can take. “Jungkook,” you sigh, throat drying up much more and only silent mewls leaving your lips.
“This what you wanted?” he asks, middle finger circling your entrance. “This all you wanted or still want more?” He’s so good with his words, it makes you cave.
You sound so brittle when you speak and Jungkook bites his lips to sustain the moan. “You’re gonna give up on me, baby?” he asks, making your nipple ache underneath your bra. “I haven’t fucked you probably yet and you’re gonna pass out?” It’s like he’s boo-ing you.
“N-no.” You try to catch your breath.
“No?”
“No.”
Jungkook grins, he’s gonna fuck you up.
Your eyes squeeze shut when he pushes to digits at once. “That’s it, yeaaah.” He places a kiss on your nub as a reward, and it is indeed a reward.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” Your voice is sharp and thin when you cry, tears filling your waterline and rolling down your temples. “Kook!” you cry out when he’s knuckles deep like he’s searching for something that’s his.
“You can take it, they’re just my fingers.” You’re in the middle of losing your life and he says that. For fucks sake. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Jungkook interjects and starts moving his fingers. He pulls them out to the tip of his fingers then pushes them back deep to the hilt.
“Shoulda brought the vibrator today,” he gruffly says and if it wasn’t for his fingers buried in you, you would have given him a sassy eye roll. “Wish you could see your face, you’re so pretty.” He leans in again, giving your pussy a wet smooch so loud that it fills the room with a wet kissing sound.
Nothing like this was planned today but now look at you, under him, withering away.
Your hands shake as you try to find anything to hold on to that could help you brace yourself from the orgasm that’s approaching you. “Jung— Jungko…?!” You’re wailing at this point, crying and yelling at the same time.
Jungkook’s nose flares as his hand picks up its pace, making a ‘come here’ motion that has you on edge. “You’re gonna cum,” he tells you as if it’s not obvious, helping you by securing your shaking hand and bringing it to his hair. “Hold on to me.”
He’s going to fucking kill you.
“I’m gonna… I’m gon— hgnh!” you grunt, eyes screwed shut and pulling on Jungkook’s locks. “I’m here, hold on to me.” If it wasn’t for your own boyfriend cradling your legs and restraining them, you would’ve kicked him in his face and bruised him badly.
Your lungs tighten once again and stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your orgasm washes over you.
The worst part is — Jungkook hasn't pulled his fingers out yet. “No, please, Jungkook, it's too much!” You try to sit up, hands leaving his hair and wrapping around his wrist.
“Jungkook, I just came, it’s too much. I can’t.”
But your whines fall upon deaf ears.
“One more.” He is determined to pull one more out of you but you just shake your head. “Please, baby, one more and then I’ll stop.”
You moan when he repeatedly curls his fingers in your pussy and something inexplicable in you bubbles this time. Nothing like before.
“Stop, wait…” Your sweaty fingers on Jungkook’s wrist try to remove his hand from your aching cunt but he just shoves your hand away from him. And that reminds you how you almost forget that he is much stronger than you.
“Stop pushing me away,” he grunts this time, finger fucking you tougher than he ever has. You’re practically shaking whole. “You asked for it, so take it—”
You can’t make out what he says after that, your ears ringing louder and eyes blinded by the orgasm that hits you.
“Fuuuck,” Jungkook moans, keeping his hand buried inside you, slowing his pace when you cum. You’re not aware of anything until he pulls them out of you.
“Didn’t know you could do that.” He ogles at his shining fingers, your arousal drenching his fingers down to his knuckle and making a mini pool in his palm.
It takes you a hot solid minute for your eyes to clear, tears subsiding and now hearing what’s around you neat. You prop on your elbows and watch his doe eyes stare at his fingers then back at you before chuckling, truly amazed.
“You squirted all over me, baby.” You can’t help but give him a broken smile. “And I did that,” he adds, proud that he caused this mess.
“Looks like a fucking champagne confetti.” With your silence taking over again and your whole face and chest burning, your boyfriend shows you his hand as if you don’t believe him. “You don’t believe me? Look.”
Your eyes widen, cheeks warming up once again. “Kook, stop!” you whine and his laugh echoes through your bedroom wall.
Right after you both subside from your laughs, you watch Jungkook bring your skirt from the floor and wipe the mess you made — your slick nectar all over his nose to his chin. Even on the ends of his dark bangs, causing a few strands to stick to his forehead.
Once he’s down, your boyfriend lifts himself up and you can’t help but notice the bulge under his leather pants. You start to shift your spot from the bed but stop when you hear him ask, “What’re you doing?”
You don’t speak much, glancing down to the tent below his pelvis. “It’s fine, you should rest.” He smiles, leaning and touching your cheek stained with dried up tears.
“But—”
Jungkook just shakes his head. “It’s fine, princess, I’ll go take a shower and deal with it.”
You frown, get up from the bed and rise to your feet before you wiggle yourself out of your top. You catch Jungkook staring at you shamelessly.
“You know, I’m so lucky to have you.” He starts to pull his cum-drenched shirt from his body. “You’re so fucking pretty and sexy, it’s crazy.” Jungkook admits he just fell in love all over again when he sees you like this — bare and naked in front of him.
“Let’s go shower.” You stick your hand out for him to take and he happily intertwines his fingers with yours before tugging you into the bathroom, you giggling like an idiot and Jungkook grinning like a moron.
And well, let’s just say, the night didn’t end like that, with a simple shower, but an intense fuck session under the shower’s faucet.
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© busanboykoo — 031023 | thank you for reading!
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chadleys · 8 months
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moon sick. | astarion
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›› pairing: astarion x f!reader
›› wordcount: 2.5k
›› genre: smut, established relationship
›› rating: 18+, mdni
›› synopsis: whilst on the road, you get your period. astarion, being the loving, caring, supportive boyfriend he is, offers to help. he has no ulterior motives. obviously.
›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk
you wake with a start, astarion’s cold arm a comforting weight across your waist. you can’t think what could have possibly woken you up so suddenly, as you listen for any untoward noises around camp. but there’s only astarion’s steady, gentle breathing behind you and gale’s obnoxious snoring echoing from the other end of the clearing.
as you settle back down on your bedroll, however, you become aware of something sticky and wet between your legs. could be that a wet dream concerning your beloved has you in such a state, but you don’t remember dreaming of him last night. no, now that your senses are returning to you, you remember that last night was reserved for another visit from your so-called guardian. so what … ?
you toss your end of the blanket aside and groan, throwing your head back against the pack you’ve set out for a makeshift pillow. doing so earns you another yelp; must have made contact with one of the stems of the many apples wedged into your supply bag.
astarion is on his feet in an instant, startling you; you weren’t even aware he was awake. not that elves ever truly sleep. it always slightly unnerves you to feel him levitating beside you in his meditative state. ❝ you’re hurt. ❞ his voice is rough, thick with inertia. ❝ i swear i’ll find whoever did this and bleed them dry. we should never have trusted that damned cleric; shar this and shar that. i’ll shove her blessed shar right up her — ❞
he’s already kicking his own pack aside to stomp his way out of the tent when you hiss, ❝ astarion! ❞
luckily he’s not too aggravated to stop and give you a glance back so you can explain in a low murmur, ❝ it’s my cycle … ❞
astarion stops short, one pale hand clutched to his chest. ❝ oh … i — ❞ he waves that same hand now toward the opening of his tent. ❝ i thought … ❞
❝ i know what you thought, ❞ you sigh, more weary knowing what’s to come over the next 7 days than you are of him, than you could ever be of him. ❝ but it’s not. so just come back to bed. please? ❞
❝ i thought you’d never ask … ❞ he purrs, back to his normal self.
unfortunately, you’re doubled over in pain before he’s even halfway back.
❝ i knew you were in pain. ❞ astarion’s back at your side in a flash. ❝ just tell me who and i’ll — ❞
❝ i am, ❞ you gasp, ❝ in pain. but … not because anyone hurt me. well, more like mother nature cursed me. ❞
a particularly bad cramp seizes you and your hand flies out, clutching the front of astarion’s silky tunic. you press your fingers in to feel his cold, broad chest. the sensation calms you a bit … until yet another bout of pain rolls through your midsection.
icy fingers find yours, ghosting over your knuckles. ❝ shall i … see if the druid can make you something? ❞
you shake your head, tugging at his shirt. ❝ just lay with me. please. ❞
astarion’s skin is blessedly cool against yours, as it always is. you lean into him, pressing your face against his frigid neck, soothing your burning cheeks.
his glacial hands find the edge of your tunic, and then the small of your back, which helps more than he could possibly know. you shudder against him, pushing, trying to get more of him.
❝ you know … ❞ astarion sniffs, delicate voice very close to your ear. ❝ i have heard of one thing that is guaranteed to relieve moon sickness. ❞
pulling back, you glance curiously up at him.
he has that rakish grin on his face that you’ve come to know all too well in the past weeks. his reddened eyes roll away from you. ❝ come now, pup. you must know what i mean … sex. ❞ your heart jumps into your throat at the thought; you’re sure astarion can feel it beating harder against his own chest.
suddenly, his mouth is just under your ear, teeth rasping against the exact place he’s fed from you dozens of times before. ❝ i can smell it, my love. ❞
you don’t answer immediately; while you can’t deny the thought appeals to you, if for no other reason than to rid yourself of these damnable cramps, you’re also apprehensive. astarion feeding from your neck is one thing — still intimate, but relatively normal by vampire standards. to have astarion feed down there, on that blood, feeding from your womb …
❝ you’re right, it’s a bad idea, absolutely disgusting. i don’t know why i — ❞
❝ do it. ❞
❝ eh … hm? ❞
❝ do it, ❞ you repeat, grasping onto him for dear life as another squeezing, crushing shock of pain settles in your stomach. ❝ please, astarion. i can’t take it anymore. ❞
it’s been many moons since your cycle has been this bad. traveling on the road without proper food or rest may finally be catching up to you, exacerbating things. not much you can do about that until you reach the city, though.
other than letting your vampire lover drink your blood, of course.
laying you gently back without another complaint, astarion slips the blanket off of you and reaches to undo your breeches.
anxiety overtakes you; there’s already blood on your trousers and the blanket, you’re going to have to wash them in the river as soon as you’re able. you can’t even imagine the scene underneath your pants … but you’re about to find out.
gently, astarion prizes the trousers from your legs, then gasps softly. ❝ oh, my love … ❞
prying your eyes from the ceiling of the tent, you finally look down. astarion is there, of course, looking lovely as always. except, however, the lines on his face look deeper, almost carved, and the dark circles under his eyes are darker, his eyes redder.
another spell of panic grips you; bright red blood is smeared across your inner thighs.
astarion looks dizzy as he takes you in, cold hands cradling the outsides of your legs. you’re about to apologize and shove him away, tell him this is a mistake, in fact you will ask halsin to make you something — and that’s when astarion mutters, ❝ you are exquisite, ❞ and dives in to have his first taste.
the feeling of his tongue on your thighs makes you shiver, and the cool night air wafting in from the tent flap isn’t helping. you grab the clean end of the blanket and drape your upper half, canting your hips up to tell astarion what it is you truly want.
because even through all the anxiety, there’s also a bubble of arousal blooming between your legs. astarion can’t tell, of course, not through all the blood down there, but you sure as hell can. you have the most perfect creature you’ve ever set eyes on between your legs; how could you not be aroused?
❝ all in due time, ❞ astarion chuckles, voice muffled against your thighs as he continues to clean you up. thoroughly. too thoroughly.
❝ you always tease, ❞ you whine, knocking one of your knees against his ribcage.
this time when his gaze flashes sharply to you, his eyes are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. it makes you shake.
astarion’s nails dig into your hips, deliciously, wickedly. you tremble, reaching for him. he chuckles and kisses the inside of one of your wrists, which leaves a smear of blood. ❝ always such a needy little pup for me, aren’t you? ❞
you don’t even have time to nod before he dives back in, his mouth exactly where you want it this time. his lips suction around your clit, tongue lapping out lower down to scoop a sizeable pearl of blood into his mouth.
this time, astarion is the one who shakes. he lays his cheek against your still-bloody thigh and shudders. ❝ you’re going to be the death of me, ❞ he sighs, and you can see him skirting his tongue around his mouth, flitting over his lips, savoring you.
you huff. ❝ you’ll be of me, too, if you don’t keep going. ❞
❝ so pushy, ❞ your lover mutters, but there’s absolutely no heat in his words as he obeys your command and buries his face back into your blood-soaked cunt.
for a while you just lie back and enjoy yourself, and let astarion enjoy himself as well. his arms are strong around your legs, holding you in place so you can’t squirm away. it feels way too damn good, you may have been tempted to try. but as it is, you can’t do anything but revel in the silky feeling of astarion’s tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, his fangs catching every so often on your clit, making you see stars.
at some point, you glance down at him and gasp. ❝ your shirt! ❞
you know how much he prides himself on his physical appearance, and now there’s blood staining the front ruffles of his normally immaculate tunic.
he glances down and tuts, frowning. ❝ oh well. it’ll have to go with the rest. ❞ just like that, he rips it off and tosses it with your soiled trousers.
he must be in heaven, you suspect, if he’s willing to discard his cherished clothing for you.
now shirtless, astarion gives one last gentle kiss to your clit and then slowly starts to climb your body. there’s blood dripping from his chin, staining the rest of the blanket wrapped around you. but more importantly, his broad chest is skating up the expanse of your bloody cunt as he comes, and your clit throbs seeing all that red coating his torso.
❝ astarion! ❞ you gasp, and he grins, mouth full of your blood.
❝ i’m loathe to ask you for a kiss, ❞ he whispers, so low you can barely hear him. ❝ just one. i promise. ❞
you swallow thickly, and he waits for you to lean up, pressing your lips to his in the softest kiss you can manage. blood squishes between you, and you can feel it coating your lips as you lie back down.
one lap of your tongue against your bottom lip and you grimace, spitting and rubbing at your mouth with the back of one hand.
astarion laughs heartily as you mutter, ❝ ugh, not for me. ❞
❝ more for me, ❞ astarion says, almost gleefully.
he’s obviously preparing to get back to it, but you keep him close with your hands on his shoulders. ❝ i want you. ❞
brows furrowed, astarion squeezes your waist. ❝ darling, you have me. ❞
❝ inside, ❞ you beg quietly, which you know enjoys immensely.
your next step might be a mistake, but you decide to chance it. bracing yourself with your legs wrapped around him, you thrust up, dragging your wetness along the front of his trousers. you can feel that he’s hard, and now there’s blood all over his pants. you’re hoping he won’t mind, considering his tunic is already ruined for the night as well.
luckily he doesn’t seem to, dark gaze sweeping down over the two of you covered in your blood, and then back up. ❝ i thought you’d never ask. ❞
his trousers quickly follow his tunic, erection jutting up between your legs.
❝ he looks happy, ❞ you giggle, as his swollen head prods at your blood-soaked entrance.
❝ to see you? always. ❞
having astarion inside of you is normally a relief, a release of all the rampant, pent up emotions this journey has bestowed upon you.
tonight is different.
with all that blood flowing south, your womb is aching, you're sore and swollen as astarion’s cock spears through your lips. every thrust sends a fresh flow of blood down his shaft, which earns you a tight growl from the vampire as he takes the backs of your knees in hand and shoves your thighs back toward your chest, eager to get even deeper inside of you.
and you’re eager to have him, nails digging into his chiseled back, the hard marble of his jaw knocking against your shoulder as his lips, slick with blood, find your ear again. ❝ are you feeling better, pet? does my cock soothe that ache inside of you? the ache that raged inside of you, until you met me? until i filled you up in every lovely way possible? ❞
his words make your brain go haywire, knees shaking around his ribcage, toes curling, your mouth rubbing comfortingly at his cool shoulder.
more than that, you do feel better. the more aroused you become, the more blood flows out of you, the less painful your cramps become. until you’re pushing down against him, trying to ride him at the same time as he’s shoving himself inside of you with reckless abandon. until you can’t remember why you started this in the first place, other than to wind up begging for him to finish inside of you.
❝ inside. please, astarion, inside … ❞ it’s hard to even think clearly enough to form words, your mind consumed with the sight of his beautiful body moving atop yours.
you assume he’ll make you beg, as he so often does; he loves hearing the desperate, pleading tone in your voice that tells him all he needs to know — you belong to him.
but he doesn’t. he fucks into you as hard as he ever has, his thick cock gliding against your engorged walls, making your eyes roll back.
and then the talking starts. the words that make you wish you knew whether or not vampires can actually have children. ❝ you want me to get you pregnant, love? want your belly to swell with my child inside of it? i will wait on you hand and foot, i promise. i would love seeing you walk around knowing you hold my heir, that you protected my seed so well that it grew into a child inside of you. ❞ astarion pauses momentarily to laugh, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. ❝ with all this blood, i know you must be fertile. ❞
both of you share a laugh, briefly.
and when you cum, together, he sinks his teeth into your neck with nothing but a quiet grunt, cockhead twitching and spurting inside of you.
you mewl softly, feeling the vampire trembling and shaking as he empties himself into you. your hands pet through his hair, soothe the back of his neck, across the scars circling his back.
the pain from before is nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a warm, fizzy feeling sitting low in your gut. astarion is bracing himself on his elbows above you, with obvious effort.
you pull him down to lay atop you; he’s not exceptionally heavy anyway.
❝ i love you, ❞ he sighs, nestling his face, chin still slick with blood, against your collarbone. ❝ and … promise me we can do that again. ❞
❝ i love you. and i promise. ❞
5K notes · View notes
hope-drunk · 9 months
Text
DRESS
| you and abby are hiding your relationship from your friends, but you can't deny the sexual tension in the car before nora's end of summer party
| cw: 18+, mommy kink, friends with benefits situation, car sex, use of strap (r!receiving), pet names, public sex i suppose but it's said that they're in a very secluded area, happy ending
| wc: 2.5k
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Maybe if Abby didn’t want you to get turned on on the way to the party, she shouldn’t have worn her hair down with a baseball cap turned around. Not to mention the black cutoff she was wearing. You feel like you're going insane. Your thighs press together in the passenger seat as she lights another cigarette, holding it slightly out the window so that the smoke doesn't get inside. 
When you heard Nora was finally throwing her end of summer kickback, you and Abby jumped at the opportunity to attend. It was always nice to see everyone after the summer had kept everyone busy. But you didn’t even care about that anymore. The only thing you could care about was how large Abby’s arms looked in her shirt, and how small the cigarette looked between her fingers.
You had been casually seeing each other, emphasis on casually. You had been friends for a very long time. You had grown up together, and when you went to college you moved in together. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you weren’t with Abby. But, getting together was difficult. It would be weird to announce it to your friends. You were both scared that it would become too much, and it would ruin your friendship. So you decided to take it slow– really slow. You mainly had sex, and then didn’t talk about the sex after. So, you especially didn’t want to walk into the party with all your other friends smelling like sex.
“You need something?” She says, snapping you out of your daze.
You shake your head, scared of the words that would come out if you tell her what you were thinking. You pull the dress you're wearing down out of a nervous habit; mainly hoping that it'll hide the way your thighs are moving together every time she looks over at you. It's embarrassing, honestly. She hasn't even done anything. You’ve seen her in an outfit like this countless times. But there’s something about tonight; something about the way she’s driving and the way she’s carrying herself. So easily confident. You’re captivated by her. 
What you didn’t know is that you were driving Abby equally as crazy. The red dress you had picked out specifically for this party hugged your body in all the right ways. It accentuates her favorite parts of you. When you walked out into the living room all dolled up, she swore she almost came in her pants. She immediately went back into the room and threw on the strap under her shorts. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. But with the way you were pressing your thighs together, she knew something was working for you tonight. She decided that she didn’t want to make it easy for you though. You would have to beg; you would have to get really desperate for Abby to consider fucking you on the side of the road.
“Do you think Mel will be there?” You say, trying to ease the sexual tension in the car.
“Hmm– I’m not sure. I know Owen said she wasn’t feeling the best the past few days. I don’t even know if he’ll be there, honestly.” 
“Oh, I hope she feels better.” You reply. Abby nods her head and hums, signaling the end of the conversation.
You wish she would make small talk, you wish she would do anything to distract the way you were thinking. She can hear you thinking, but it doesn’t work in your favor. Abby puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in the car. Then, she puts a rough hand onto your thigh, rubbing her thumb back and forth on the skin there. You almost scream. Your back straightens and you let out a small puff of air, showing your displeasure of the act. You want her to take away her hand, you don’t want to ask her to fuck you on the side of the road. But you also think you may die if she does. She inches her hand further up, the side of her palm almost touches where you need her. You look over at her; panicked. She has her tongue in her cheek, like she’s trying not to laugh.
“Abby,” you mumble.
“What, baby?” She says, pinky twitching towards you.
“Stop trying to turn me on.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. If you get turned on, that’s not my fault.” She knows it doesn't work like that, but she also knows that you love when she pretended it did. 
Abby 100% knew what she was doing. It was purely selfish. She wants to fuck you. Now. She wants to take you to the backseat and have her way with you. But she was never going to pull over the car. You would hang it over her head for years to come. ‘Remember that time you got so horny we were late to Nora’s party?’ She can practically hear your voice in her head. She knows you can't take it; knows that you will have to ask her to pull over.
Abby’s hand moves up far enough that she’s finally touching your cunt. You can’t help the small noise that escapes from your mouth. A whine; a plea. Whatever it was, Abby laughs, then moves her hand back down.
“No more teasing, please.”
“Why not?” She questions, smug look on her face when she turns to look at you.
You decide to be honest to her, “I will make you pull over the car if you keep teasing me.”
“So, make me pull over the car.” Abby says nonchalantly, putting her eyes back on the road.
You suck in a deep breath and pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “They’ll know,”
“They’re not gonna know. Just ask me to pull over. We’re in the middle of nowhere; there’s not even any streetlights. It’s two words, sweetheart, you know I’m up for it.”
The silence is deafening. You try to work up the courage as best as you can; opening and closing your mouth repeatedly. 
Her hand pushes up towards your clit again. “Pull over.” You moan out, before even knowing what you’re saying.
Abby speeds onto the shoulder of the road, not bothering to turn her hazards on since you’re in such a secluded area. The good part about the drive to Nora’s house was that there was barely a road. It was mainly dirt, the yellow lines that were once painted had been long forgotten. You and Abby had made fun of her for moving out in the middle of nowhere; now you wanted to personally thank her for it. 
Abby moves her seat all the way back. Before you move into her lap, you take off your panties and leave them in the passenger seat. She groans and takes off her hat. You sit right down onto her lap and moan when you feel the hard silicone that’s under her shorts.
“Why’d you wear that? Did you plan this?” You say accusingly. 
“Knew I’d need it. That’s all.”
“You’re so fucking cocky,” you say before smashing your lips onto hers.
Her hands meld into your ass. She uses her strength to move you back and forth on her lap, which forces you to grind into her. You whine into her mouth. She moves her kisses onto your neck and continues to rock you back and forth on her.
“Please, I want it.” You say, feeling yourself getting close from the way her pants are rubbing on your clit.
“Want what, sweetheart? C’mon, tell me.”
“Want your cock; don’t wanna cum like this.”
“You always ask me so politely. Love getting you worked up. S’the only time you’re not a brat.”
You pout at her and she smiles; knowing that her words are driving you crazy.
“C’mon, hips up,”
You shoot up off of her lap, causing her to laugh again. Of course, she takes her time taking off her shorts and boxers. When she finally does, she strokes the strap a few times, like she can actually feel it. She gives you a pointed look, and you know she’s ready for you to sit down on her. You’re careful, knowing that her strap can be painful; no matter how wet you are. When you finally do, you let out a small gasp. Tears immediately spring to your eyes as you start moving up and down on Abby. She wraps a strong arm around your waist; helping you. You shift and the backend of the strap hits her clit, causing her to moan out.
“Fuck, there y’go, baby. Taking it like a champ.”
The praise makes you move faster. You know that the strap is getting her off too. You fall into her neck and shudder, trying to roll your hips. You can’t deny you’re getting tired though.
“Always make mommy do all the fucking work, hm?” Abby says, catching onto your hints. “That’s okay. Y’know I’ll always take care of you.”
She starts moving your hips and up and down again.
She finds the spot that makes your hips twitch and your breath catch, “Oh, there it is– just needed me to find it, huh?” 
You bob your head up and down; your mouth hangs open. Abby closes it for you, wiping off the small dribble of spit that slipped out.
You feel your head grow fuzzier and fuzzier every time she moves your hips on her cock. You’re practically braindead. From her outfit, to the teasing, and how she wore the fucking strap under her clothes. You knew that you were in for. If you had a thought in your head that wasn’t about Abby’s cock, you’d be worried about how you’re gonna look at the party; how Abby is going to look. There’s no way that there’s not a wet spot on her pants. And you have to put back on your panties, that are soaked, after this. You want to beg her to start the car and take you back home. You want her to fuck you all night long. You feel a tear fall out of your eye and onto Abby’s shoulder.
“Y’cryin, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whine into her neck, the word gets caught up in a moan.
“My poor girl, what’s wrong?” Abby pushes you up so she can see your face. She pouts at you when she sees the tears. Never once does she stop moving your hips on top of hers. I mean– she’s not gonna delay her orgasm just because you’re a crybaby.
“Don’t wanna go to the party. Wanna stay like this forever.”
She tries to quiet a laugh, “I know. Mommy’s cock is so good, huh? Just wanna sit on it for eternity.”
You nod your head sincerely.
“Just focus on cumming, then we can talk about round two, yeah? Go on, rub your clit, sweetheart.”
You do as she says, reaching your hand between your bodies and rubbing the sensitive spot in rhythm with Abby’s movements. 
Obviously this wasn’t enough for her though. Before you know it Abby’s holding your hips off her lap and thrusting the strap into you. You almost cum just thinking about how strong she is. You look over at her arm and watch the muscle bulge as she holds you up into the air. You try to focus on your hand that’s supposed to be rubbing your clit, but you can’t. You press them both onto her chest, trying to feel her tits under the sports bra she’s wearing.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, taking one of your hands and moving the hair off your sweaty forehead. 
The windows were completely fogged. Abby had turned off the car, which meant she turned off the A/C. You don’t even care. At this point, she could fuck you on the side of a busy highway with a state trooper ten feet away, and you would let her.
“You look so pretty right now. So fucking pretty, doll. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” 
This is how you know the strap is still hitting Abby’s clit– she’s rambling. No matter how cool she tries to act, the second the words start tumbling out of her mouth and she’s letting out low grunts, she’s done for.
You decide to be bold. “Am I making you feel good, mommy?”
She lets out a noise that borders on a growl, “Y’know you are, princess. Just keep being my little fuckdoll and I’ll cum, yeah?”
Her words do more damage to you than yours did to her. You’re a mess again, whimpering and clawing at her arms.
“I know you’re close,” she teases, “Cum for me, mommy’s gonna cum with you.”
With her permission, you let go. You feel yourself fall into her neck, but it feels like slow motion. You think you can actually hear your heart beating. The thick blood pumps inside of your ears, and it takes you a second to realize you’re still in the car, on top of Abby’s strap.
Abby rubs your back as you lay on top of her, pressing a kiss to your forehead a few times. “You’re alright, baby.” She says reassuringly, shushing you when you whine into her.
You sit up. Your brain is still mush– mush enough that you can finally voice your feelings. “I don’t wanna do this… thing anymore.”
Abby’s face goes blank, “Was it bad? Or too much? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck it up. Oh jesus I’m such–”
You cut her off, “No. It was really good. That’s why I wanna date. I don’t wanna just be friends who fuck anymore. I wanna be with you.”
“You wanna be with me because I fucked you in a car in the middle of nowhere?”
You scoff and hit her chest, moving off of her into the passenger seat.
“Come back here,” Abby says. You deny her, pressing your back to the door. Abby grabs your leg instead, massaging the muscles in your calf.
“You really wanna do it?” She asks. “What if it’s weird?” Her face scrunches up.
“I think this is definitely weirder than us dating.”
She laughs and nods her head. She goes to say something, then her phone rings, “Shit, it’s Nora.”
You try to listen to the conversation, but Abby’s phone is turned down, “What’s she saying?” You whisper.
Abby takes the phone off of her ear and puts it on speakerphone. Nora’s voice comes out clear, “Listen, we all know you’re fucking! You’re probably late because you’re fucking! No one cares, just get here.”
Abby goes red and immediately takes the phone off speakerphone. She gives Nora a quick ‘alright’ and hangs up the phone.
“We are not as smooth as we thought we were.” You say, trying to giggle your way through the embarrassment.  
“Well, now we have to tell them we’re dating, so buckle up. And put your panties back on.” Abby says while starting the car. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
3K notes · View notes
jasmines-library · 18 days
Note
Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!
Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff
Jokes On Me
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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.
Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.
Word Count: 2.5k
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
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“Y/N, turn that shit off.”
Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 
“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 
“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 
Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 
You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 
“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.
“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 
“We have a problem.”
Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 
Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.
When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 
“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 
“Who?” 
The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 
“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”
“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 
Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.
The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”
“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”
The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”
His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”
With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 
The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 
~
Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 
“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.
You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 
“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”
“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 
The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 
He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”
~
Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 
The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 
“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 
It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 
It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 
The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 
Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 
“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”
Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 
“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”
Jason twitched. 
“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”
The transmission cut to black. 
~
It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 
You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 
It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 
They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 
Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 
Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 
“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 
“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”
You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 
He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”
Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”
Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”
You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 
~
You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 
It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 
“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 
You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 
“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 
Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”
You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”
“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”
“But-”
“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”
“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”
Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 
“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”
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BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish
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576 notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 6 months
Note
Nasty alpha wolf-boy Shiggy buying virgin bunny reader at a shady auction, taking her home and breeding her silly in all her tight bunny holes<3
BNHA ! THIRST
Shigaraki Tomura x darling
WC: 2.5k
TW: NSFW, captive darling, light bondage, oral giving/receiving, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, hybrid au
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Shigaraki doesn’t get along with most other organizations aside from his own, but he could hold a certain respect for this establishment. He felt appreciated here – a valued customer – one with a hungry appetite the vendor saved only the very best herbivores for.
Herbivores like you.
“She was easy to tame- submissive like she was made for it!” The Master said. “A bit too submissive for my taste- but you know what they say about bunnies- cute like a button and just as dumb!”
Your thighs rubbed themselves where you stood in the dark of your blindfold. Bleating and cowering in the chastity belt they’d fixed tight around your lower body – having you sheathed on two thick cocks stretching out both virgin holes – making you drippy – vibrating inside you with purrs tickling your core in thrums he could hear from ten meters away.
“Stuff her in the trunk and take her home if you want- she’s so soft around the edges and pumped with hormones she won’t mind the bumpy road. You could take her right here on the concrete, and all she’d do is just moan!”
He could smell it in the air – how heated you were. Sopping like a braindead whore – he bet you’d been stuck in that chastity belt for hours, as sweaty and trembling as you were. Unstable were you stood in pink pumps soaked full of the slick running down your thighs – only managing to stand thanks to the big bodyguard behind you. He was a beastly fucker, squeezing one of your tits tight in a big bear paw while fisting your leash like a noose in the other, pulling the thick black collar kept snug on your throat only to feel your plush ass rub against his crotch.
The way your arms were cruelly bent behind your back was of no help to your balance either, making your perky tits strut forward. Stiff nipples begging for a suck or a twist or a slap – sculpted a bit by an additional harness shaped like a bra with no filling – just thin black leather lines extenuating that on display.
“My hunters swear she’s a pure little thing, so normally I would demand you pay extra-”
Two black heart-shaped eyepatches had you blindfolded but were kept lenient enough to allow tears to soak through, layered damp on your cheeks and giving a pretty plump bloat to your lips – sucking on the pink ballgag stuffed in your mouth, fastened tight around your head – making all your noises come out wet and even more feeble.
“But she’s yours free of charge if the league handles some business for me~”
Your lop ears drooped sadly down your cheeks, framing your cute face like a picture where your little nose kept wrinkling in terribly adorable sniffles – squealing on what he could tell was another ride over the edge.
“Deal.” He barked shortly, a growl in his throat.
The Master grinned. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Shigaraki.” Tossing him the keys to the lock on your cunt before snapping his fingers, gesturing for the bodyguard to do the same with the leash – pushing you in a wobbling stumble over to your new owner.
And then he really felt you tremble – soft yet stiff, bracing yourself against him – the smell of utter terror and arousal so thick he found himself drooling just at a single close whiff – all the hair on his tail spiked on strict end as a hunger growled low in his gut.
He felt his pants grow taut and gave a hiss – shoving you on your stomach in a sprawl onto the backseat. Throwing your legs inside before slamming the door shut – putting his fingers to his lips – your slick wet on them, glossy and sweet in his nose like a perfume as he licked them clean while getting in the car.
“Drive.” He muttered in another curt growl, signaling the man to his side to turn the keys as he pawed the straining tent bumping his boxers with yet another hiss.
Huffing, he closed his eyes, listening to you nom on your gag with wet cries and moans – his chest tight and brows furrowed – cursing having said yes to clean up another organization’s mess, and even more frustrated with your scent hanging heavy in the air, making everything spin for him – until finally reaching the base.
“Get out, Binky- welcome to your new home.”
He tugged your collar again soon after the car stopped, and out you shuffled – sweaty and shivering on legs that could barely hold their own weight – supported by the hand he had raked in your hair, pulling and dragging your body out into the cold.
Letting go once you were out of the backseat, he started fisting the leash instead, yanking you forward with heels clicking in no steady rhythm – wonky on the ground where you struggled to keep up with him. Slick between your thighs, rubbing together as you walked.
You were still blindfolded – floppy ears shifty at the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut, along with the threatening cheers of the crowd of villains drinking in the rooms the two of you passed. It’s as though he can hear you praying, hoping that he’s not planning on sharing you with the rest of the fray the way you flinch at the whistles and filthy comments being thrown your way.
You sped up until your tits bumped into his back – walking close with your head bowed to shield yourself.
Splitting a grin, he chuckled out a low snort. He hadn’t thought you’d be so silly to seek his comfort. But dumb as it was, his cock seemed to find it unexpectedly pleasant.
Reaching his room, he fished for his key – hands unsteady, tongue gracing his fangs as he unlocked it before stepping inside. Hauling you behind him into the musty space where he at once pounced on you like a predator who’d finally lost all patience. 
Paws with claws gabbed your tit with a force that made you stumble – almost fall if he hadn’t tugged you back by your leash. His tongue ran wet over the sweet drool dripping down your neck and chin – his canines close to your neck, making you shiver and bleat for him while his hand dropped down to cup your sex. 
Stopping short at the thick feel of latex beneath his fingertips, he growled and shoved you in a toppling wobble until your back hit the soft embrace of the bed behind you. You met it with a bounce and a yelp smothered in your gag – and he followed quickly, crawling on top of you with the key in hand. Carefully caressing the lock on your belt – thinking it would be a shame to destroy it when he could make use of it later. He would need to keep you protected if the way everyone eyed you was any indication. After all, he couldn't expect a base crawling with only carnivores to resist the scent of a herbivore as sweet as you.
He turned the key in the hole and pulled the cruel construction down your thighs, and you gave a whine, hips bucking at the release, quaking at the empty feeling while he eyed the lewd mixture of slick clinging in pretty bridges between the two closing holes and the two glossy rubber cocks still wet and warm with your heat. 
“You make quite a slutty mess for a virgin.” He teased, with two of his coarse fingers dragging up your slick clit – gleeful eyes watching you squirm while releasing a strangled sound caught between a moan and a scream – riddled with overstimulation to the point you were cumming in spasms from only the single little touch.
He only chuckled at the sight. Leaving you to pant and quake beneath him – with shakey breaths anticipating the painful pleasure of his touch once again. 
“Sensitive, scared, horny- tortured by your own fickle hormones and instincts- I know what you want…” He continued, now with the words leaving hot puffs against the slick skin on your thighs. “You want this teensy little rabbit hole destroyed by the big bad wolf….”
Your whimpers were like a symphony – sweet and softly tuned to strum every string in his gut – purring and stirring something sticky and heavy and starving inside of him.
“Look at this pussy….” He groaned with a click of his tongue – his eyes set on the wet puffy little thing between your legs. “So pretty- I could bite it.”
Your back took an arch, jumping from the bed once his hot mouth hit your mound – letting out another uncontrolled moan – heart pounding so loud and savagely in your chest he could feel it pulse on his tongue inside you as he lapped at you like a parched mutt.
His claws dug with greed, plunged deep into the cake of your thighs, locking you around his jaw where he mouthed at your core with eyes rolling back. Every fiber went on a rampage within him, zipping along his limbs and gathering in his gut like one tight-clenched aching fist.
“Mh-fuck-” He took a breath, mouth gaping and dripping with spit and slick before moving upward, sucking kisses into the soft skin of your tummy and soon locking his lips around your nipple – with one hand working your free titty, the other fucked your hole with horny curiosity, delving in the slick with twists and curls and scissoring.
You whined under his touches, quaking on all counts – listening to your hole squelch while your oh-so-sensitive insides clenched down hard from the warm knot coiling in your lower belly, coming so close to that all-over-feeling yet again – shaking your head in fear of it.
“Piss yourself if it helps- I don’t mind-” He growled out low in a whisper, his fangs against your throat now, grazing playfully with rugged breaths hot against your flushed skin. “I won’t stop until I’ve broken in each hole-”
Eyes big and swiveled with tears rippling down your cheeks in rushed rivulets, all the while your pussy made out with his fingers – feeling the fat digits test the flex of your gummy walls – slippery with slick and happily fluttering from his touches. 
You soon caved for the umpteenth time – whole body strangling to suppress the sensation while unsure how much more you could take before going numb.
“Tch- there you go~ good bunny~” He praised in mockery, snickering at your panting – his breath hot on your skin where he moved to hover above your gagged lips – undoing the straps to free your mouth.
“Ah please, m-master- please- no more-” You immediately begged, mouth wet with drool.
“Mh- you’ve got manners…” He moaned, keeping his fingers in your cunt while holding you by the ear in the other hand, gripping it tight and rubbing the thin softness like a lucky charm. Tugging himself out of his pants, messy with pre, he immediately steered the fatness to your mouth. “Open up~”
You took it with a small whine, feeling it push onto your tongue and further in until it hit the back of your throat in a kiss. He gave a groan, feeling your bloated lips wrap around the shaft as you glucked on his length in soft mewls – eyes panning from the view to watch your little titties bounce at the movement, doing small jumps for him as he rammed your sweet face.
He removed your eyepatches – wanting to see your pretty eyes glossy and big for him as you sucked his cock.
The look on your face made his gut rumble – so sweet-looking with your cinched brows and button-nose – eyeing him with cute anxiety, no doubt taking in the scary sight of his red eyes and his pale skin littered with scars.
You coughed cutely when he withdrew, and he bent over to kiss you again, spit stringing between your tongues as his fingers went back to your clitty – rubbing crass circles into it that had you squealing into his mouth.
“Please, master-” You cried, wringing your thighs shut tight around his hand – tears springing from the pity puddles of your eyes as you looked at him with such plead it made his gut roar.
He could only offer a gleeful giggle, spreading your thighs by pulling you snugly around his waist – his cock jumping eagerly above your navel as he bore over you – his breath hot on your face. “Don’t worry, baby bunny, I’ll stuff you up good. Breed you full of a warm creampie in your tight little cunt.” He cooed, fangs sharp and glistening – his paw flat on your belly, rubbing the flesh with want. “Right here~ warm and thick in your little womb~”
You shuddered at the threat, then whined an open-mouthed moan as he sleaved himself inside you. Feeling his every fat vein rub along your walls until his plush head nudged tight against your cervix – making you mewl with an arch in your back, clenching hard around the size of him. Shaking from the toll of it.
He groaned, starting to pound you already – fast and deep, just like a hound rutting. “I’m gonna give you my knot, Bunbun-” He drooled, sucking your cheek with tongue and teeth – red eyes set on your plump and pouty lips – gaping open and begging for more while he continued raving. “Gonna knot you up so tight- make this virgin pussy tremble for me-”
You could only pant, getting run through at such a pace your next orgasm was fucked right out of you. Sweat pilled on your forehead and nose, thighs trembling as you came on his thickness in hot, heaving moans. Throttling his cock for cum – which he soon spilled deep inside you just like he promised – painting your insides with it with balls clenching up, resting snugly against the slick that spilled out.
He was messy when he pulled out again. Glossy and still raging fat as he rolled you over on your stomach – pulling your ass up by your hips while you remained breathless with exhaustion, smudged against the pillowy sheets beneath you.
He laid his meat between your asscheeks, eyes lazily looking over your dewy face and how pretty you looked fucked out on his bed.
“This bunny-hole’s never felt cock either, huh?” He said, voice breathy but eager still – planting his tip at the opening of the taut little entrance before beginning to push.
You moaned out again but could only ball your fists for purchase, still kept in a lock behind your back – tightening them until your knuckles whitened while he crammed himself inside you one stout inch at a time.
“Mmh- fuck, so tight~ it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good hugging me nice and snug~” He almost whined, getting swallowed down until his pelvis met your ass and the ball of fluff found there – doing a little dance just for him. “Fuck- look at you, little cottontail~” He groaned, leaving himself sunk down to the hilt inside you for a moment of appreciation before beginning to drag out to pound your stomach into a nice mess. “So perfect, I outta take a picture~”
tip-jar: Kofi
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sytoran · 11 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟏
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you, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. now, the goddess of lust, natasha, is going to grant you a wish. you could've had just about anything, but looking at the ethereal being before you, there's only one thing on your mind.
pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)
note: hello, folks! this is the long-awaited goddess!nat fic for the milestone event! i am quite proud of this fic, ngl... got a bit too carried away with some parts ;)
word count: 2.5k
the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3
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When you jumped in front of a speeding car to save a cat on the road, you had absolutely no clue that the cat was not, in fact, a cat.
This not-cat was a species of flerken, and it’s name was Goose. Flerkens were extremely dangerous alien creatures. At least, that’s what the Goddess of Galaxies, Carol Danvers, told you.
Trust me, meeting an intergalactic space goddess with a pet killing-machine (that looked awfully like a cat) was about as chaotic and unbelievable as you would imagine it to be.
“H-holy fuck!” you yelled, jumping in your seat, as a glowing woman materialised before your very eyes, in your shithole of an office. 
“I do not believe I am holy, even though I am a Goddess.” The woman stated, watching with curious eyes as you tittered over your split coffee. Lifting your laptop and muttering curses, then sifting through the messed up paperwork.
“You’re a what?” You asked distractedly, still panicking over the mess that is your desk. “My boss is actually going to murder me. Or maybe I’ll murder myself first. I am literally- Yeah, okay, how the fuck did you appear like that? And aren’t gods supposed to be like, really huge? You look kinda…… human.”
“I am a goddess.” Carol reiterated with slight annoyance. A literal extraterrestrial being was in front of your eyes, and the only thing you cared about was your damn coffee? 
“We are beings you could only ever fathom from the depths of your imagination, powerful beyond measure. Which is also why we can shapeshift to look like regular human beings, so we won’t scare the shit outta you. Which seems to have still happened.”
You let out a dry bark of laughter. Carol wasn’t sure if you thought she was funny or you were about to burst into tears.
“So, why did you decide to visit me, ever-powerful, omnipresent, all-mighty being?” You asked, half-sarcastically, half simply given up on life itself. The report you had been working on for nearly an hour had been ruined by the fiasco earlier. 
You dropped into your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. Loosening your black tie with a weary sigh, you looked at the Goddess’ eyes and continued. “I’m a nobody. I’m an overworked and underpaid attorney. I run on caffeine. I don’t know why or how you’re here, but I really–”
“You saved us. The Gods and Goddesses.” Carol interrupts, firm and unyielding. “We owe you, alright? You get one wish.”
“One wish, to get whatever it is you desire. Anything. Anything at all.”
Your story was absolutely one of zero to hero. From an ‘underpaid and overworked attorney’, to having the fucking gods of the multiverse indebted to you, it seemed like a rather unorthodox situation.
“So… what do you want?” Carol had asked you. 
“Uhm, I don’t need anything,” you mumbled, fiddling with your loosened tie. “Like, it’s totally chill between us even if I saved your cat.”
Great. Real cool, Y/N. The middle school boys could never compare to your level of failed attempts at being cool.
“Goose is not a cat, alright?” Carol commented, offended. You mutter an apology. 
“So, what do you want?” she continued impatiently. “Humans thrive off greed. You mortals always want something. What is it, money? A fancy car? A boyfr– okay, not to be stereotypical, but you’re definitely not straight. So, women on your mind?”
You splutter at her outright but nevertheless true allegation. Carol gives you this blank stare that makes you feel stupid. 
“Well, I guess, as a woman, there’s something I do want,” you speak up after a while. Carol raises her eyebrows in interest. “Something I have wanted to try, you know.”
Leaning closer to whisper your deepest desire in the goddess’ ear, Carol’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Her impressed, intrigued, embarrassed, and taken aback emotions all morphed into one expression, almost steals a laugh from your lips.
“You want me to grant you a cock.”
The Goddess of Lust sits in her throne, a picturesque image of perfection, the statement falling from her lips with such ease. There’s a lilt to her voice you can’t decipher. You just nod, looking unfalteringly at the goddess, as if it was the most normal request in the world. 
The Goddess was slightly perturbed by your lack of, well, awe. There you were, standing in her grand palace, unfazed by the multi-million dollar chandeliers and gold-framed pictures, unfazed by her.
Natasha was just about the most exquisite sight people would kill to lay their eyes upon. Soft curls framed her delicately sculpted face like curtains to a stage, magnificent deep eyes and a more than well-endowed body to complement her pretty face. Her rose-gold dress of satins and sequins dripped with money. There was the thrall she exuded, of seduction so strong that had men and women falling to their knees.
Natasha was the Goddess of Lust for sakes, and the only thing you cared about was redeeming your wish?
She would’ve been annoyed, if not for how unfairly charming you were, standing with your hands in your pockets, a charming gentlemanly smile on your face.
“What kind of cock do you want?” Natasha resorts to ask, a playful smirk on her features. “I’ve seen some interesting ones over the years, intergalactic sex is far crazier than you would imagine. Ooh, do you want tentacles to-”
“Uh, no thanks.” You say hurriedly, a hand going out of your pocket to rub at your nose. It’s the first sign of discomfort or embarrassment Natasha’s seen from you. She grins. 
“Just a regular human one?” She clarifies, pouting at you slightly. 
“That’d be great, yeah.” You respond, back to smiling brightly. Natasha frowns. She knows that there’s something under that stupid gentlemanly facade you’re putting on. She’s craving to get a taste of it.
“What size?” The Goddess asks bluntly, like a Starbucks barista asking for your order on a Monday morning.
“A regular size would be fine, I suppose.” You respond in kind, nodding to yourself assuredly. Natasha winks at you. “Ah, a regular size, I see.”
Before you can decipher that cryptic response, the Goddess stands up, a pillar of superiority and authority. She snaps her fingers, and you’re being pushed back into a fancy chair. Where did the chair come from, anyway?
You forgo the answer to that question as the Goddess begins what you would assume to be the procedure. “Sit tight.”
A surge of pain presses against your crotch area, and you almost keel forward in shock, but the pain goes as quickly as it comes. 
“Wait….. that’s it?” You ask, almost disbelievingly. Natasha nods proudly.
You look down, hands resting on your belt buckle. 
You look up at the Goddess, and she only smirks. 
You pull down your pants in swift fashion, letting out a quiet ‘whoa’ at the bulge in your boxers. It definitely feels bigger than would be regular, but then again you don’t have much knowledge of a man’s cock per se.
“Thank you,” You say, pleased with the results. Trying something new in the bedroom would definitely bring more life to your desolate days.
All too quick for the Goddess’ liking, you’re putting your clothes back on and getting ready to leave. “Thanks for your help,” You say calmly, turning to walk down the long passageway.
God, you just wanted to watch her fall apart.
As you walk, you feel Natasha’ eyes burning holes through your back. Oh, the tension was palpable, building with each step you took. It was getting harder to walk, with Natasha’s thrall like a heavyweight on your shoulders, willing you not to leave.
As you stand before the tall doors, you come to a standstill. Natasha waits in her throne with bated breath, so many words fighting to fall from the tip of her stubborn lips.
Your hand pushes down on the door handle, and that’s the last thing you can do before Natasha snaps her fingers again, and the tension is broken like a snapped coil. Suddenly, you’re pressed against her, looking into her dilated pupils.
“You’re so annoying, you know? I’ve been so fucking horny, looking at you this whole time, and you were about to get up leave?” Natasha asks, her tongue coming out to dart at her pink lips. Her hands have grasped your forearms, but your hands are cinched around her waist, disabling movement.
“No,” you breathe, head moving down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her poised neck. “I was waiting for you.” The Goddess throws her head back under your fleeting touch. 
“Fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles, and you smirk against her skin. You’re rough with her, too, knowing that she isn’t made of glass, sucking purple marks into the pale skin of her neck, shoving your knee between her legs to spread them wider.
“Too much clothes,” Natasha breathes, and then with a burst of magic you’re stripped bare of any article of clothing. Her hands fly to your cock instantaneously, wrapping her delicate fingers around your semi-hard member.
You grunt against her skin, struggling to find a better position to properly have her. Since she’s sitting in the throne and you’re bent over above her, you can barely have her the way you want. Due to your lack of magical power, you resort to doing things the hard way.
Your hands slide under Goddess’ dress, going under her thighs, and then manhandling her up. Natasha’s whines of disapproval turn on deaf ears as you sit yourself in the grand chair, plopping her onto your lap. You don’t miss the way her thighs are already slightly damp.
“Need you inside now, fuck,” Natasha growls into your skin, climbing onto your cock as your hands squeeze at her thighs. You proceed to rip the fabric off her skin, deciding that there’s too much clothing restricting you from getting your hands on her.
And boy, was that a sight you’d never forget. 
“Oh!” The Goddess cries, when you lean forward to wrap your lips around her hardened bud. Your hands don’t rest for a moment, squeezing everywhere – hips, thighs, breasts, ass — whatever you can get your hands on. She’s fucking exquisite.
The stimulation seems to work wonders for Natasha’s pleasure, as she engulfs your cock in her warmth with fervour.
You gasp lowly, a throaty sound escaping your lips. Her hips and ass go up and down, working her cunt around the girth of your cock, wet and warm and slick. You can barely keep up with how desperate she is, and the fact that you have this wonder of a woman falling apart at your hands makes your heart soar.
Matching the rhythm of short upward thrusts with Natasha’s riding makes her moan out loud, a pretty melodious sound that imprints itself into your brain all at once. You wanna hear it a hundreds of times more.
Natasha gets more messy with her riding, as you suck hickeys, light ones and fierce ones, into her collarbone and her neck and breasts. You can’t resist the urge to slap her on the ass as she rides you like it’s the last day she’d be on this universe.
“Ah!” The Goddess moans, and you grip her thighs and push her down hilt deep, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. You feel her cum around your cock, so needy and desperate and mindless, and that triggers your own climax. 
Natasha hadn’t even begun to open her eyes again before she ends up on the floor and you hovering above her, your hands fervently spreading her cunt open. You duck your head down, licking a long stripe up her puffy clit. 
The Goddess writhes, unintelligible moans falling from her lips as you proceed to give her the best fucking cunnilingus of her life.
You’re more than determined to make this an unforgettable experience for the Goddess who probably had sex every other day. 
Natasha doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your tongue, but you’re ravenous and your carnal desire makes her even wetter than before.
She’s slept with plenty of people, human or not, but none of them had ever been this uncouth about her pussy. Oh, it nearly drove her mad, but she was already seeing stars.
Before the Goddess registers what’s happening, your hardened cock slides into her cunt with a flippant ease once again. Natasha lets out a filthy moan as she feels it throb inside her, clenching around you hard.
You slap her thigh in retaliation, but feeling the sudden strike of pain only turns her on further. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you pant. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” 
Natasha takes it as a promise, when you spread her thighs and line your cock up with her pussy. The Goddess of Lust doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anyone this bad.
You enter her roughly, your previously calm exterior completely faded away. You fuck her deeper with each thrust, opening the Goddess up. Pounding into the woman’s cunt like a woman starved, you hear her beg and cry with each thrust.
“Oh, please! More! More!” The Goddes cries, nearly screaming your name every time your blunt head pushes against her cervix. You only get spurred on further, going at a pace so painfully fast you don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.
You swallow at the sight of this Goddess, completely breathtaking in her state of unravelling. 
“My divine Goddess,” You say, leaning down to press a kiss against the bulge of your cock at her lower stomach. 
Those words in itself have Natasha uncoiling before you, your name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. Her walls are wrapped around your cock so tight, her nails digging into your back so hard it nearly draws blood.
“My divine Goddess,” you repeat, eyes glazed over, reaching your own climax inside her. Natasha lets out a filthy moan, feeling each throb of your cock in her as walls of cum pulse inside her, again and again. 
God, it feels so good, everything everywhere all at once, your world becoming Natasha, Natasha, Natasha. 
You think you could stay like this forever.
A long bath and a trip to the Goddess’ bedroom later, you’re laying on her expensive silk sheets, hair smelling like rosemilk or whatever that shampoo had been called.
You honestly don’t know how this gorgeous woman’s been charmed by your awkward humour and the coffee stain on your work shirt, but you’re definitely not complaining as she nuzzles into your neck, humming in satisfaction.
“You sure that’s the first time you’ve ever had a cock?”
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residenthughes · 3 months
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opera house - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x afab reader
word count: 2.5k
tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)
summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.
notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3
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As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.
You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.
Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.
You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”
“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”
A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.
“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”
A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”
You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”
The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 
Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”
A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.
It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”
“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”
Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.
“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”
Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”
“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.
Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”
The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.
“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”
Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.
“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”
You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”
He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.
You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”
You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 
“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 
“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”
“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”
“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 
You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 
“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”
Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”
“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”
Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.
Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.
Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”
He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”
“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.
“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”
It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.
“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”
To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.
“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”
That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 
“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”
You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 
“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”
“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”
Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 
“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”
You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.
Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 
Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.
“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”
And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”
Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”
You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 
He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 
“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”
An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.
“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”
“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.
“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 
The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 
He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”
784 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 2 months
Note
omg hockey player harry spotting ballerina yn practicing late after hours and sees her land a jump wrong or almost pass out (forgot to eat enough + exhaustion maybe) and harry is all worried and helps her out, maybe drives her home and takes care of her
HEHEHEHEHEH I LOVE THIS
word count: 2.5k
content warnings: none! y/n gets a lil injury but just some good ol' hurt comfort
hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist
main masterlist
patreon
. . .
From: Harry S👿
Do you need a ride home again?
Y/N knows it's a gross habit, but she can't help nibbling on her thumbnail as she reads over Harry's text again. And then again. And then a fourth, and maybe a fifth time.
She doesn't know where he gets off. He gave her a ride home once last week because she was too nervous to walk home in the inches of snow they were getting, and she happened to run into him as hockey practice was ending. Of course hockey-goalie-superstar-Harry has a car. Of course he does, and now he thinks that this is a regular thing that they do — her riding in his passenger's seat as he tinkers with the music, driving no faster than 10 miles per hour on the roads that weren't cleared yet.
Because today it's snowing again. Badly. And Y/N couldn't miss practice, not with the spring showcase (which is laughable, really, because it should be called the shitty mid-winter showcase, but she digresses) coming up quicker than she even realizes. She has a four minute solo piece she needs to perfect before the show happens in three weeks, so she trekked her sorry ass to campus, even if none of her peers showed up (including her instructor).
But she's tired, and she's been here for hours — since 7:30 am on the dot, and it's nearing 3 pm now — and she doesn't want any more of the snacks she prepared for herself and she just wants to go home, where she can soak in a warm bath, put an eye mask on, and dull the throbbing pain that's currently radiating through each and every leg muscle. She wants to lay in her cozy bed, read one of those stupid smut books Lea got her hooked on, and go to sleep for a very, very long time.
So, she takes Harry up on his offer.
Not because she wants to be stuck in the confides of his car with him, where she feels like she's being suffocated by his warm, musky fragrance. Ever since then, every time she passes by someone on campus wearing the same scent (she's not sure if it's a cologne or body wash or what), but she immediately does a double-take, feeling like a dog that's been trained to recognize the smell of its owner. It's ridiculous and stupid and she grumbles to herself about it.
To: Harry S👿
yes please. im in the auditorium today tho, not the dance studio
From: Harry S👿
Oh. That would explain why all the lights are off and no one's in there. I thought maybe you were doing some weird meditation or voodoo thing to kill me.
To: Harry S👿
like a sacrificial ceremony?
From: Harry S👿
Yeah. You WOULD know what that is.
Y/N snorts to herself before taking a swig from her water bottle. Sitting down, she takes a moment to stretch out the achy arches of her feet. She hinges at her hips and slowly creeps her arms outwards to give her lower back some healthy, much-needed relief. Her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the slight release, until she hears the doors squeak open. Quickly, she sits up to see Harry traipsing down the long aisle.
As usual, he's freshly showered and has changed from his hockey practice clothes. For some reason, she finds herself slightly disappointed that he's wearing a beanie and she can't see his hair.
"You ready to go?" he asks, tossing his duffel bag into one of the seats in the front row.
"No. Can I just run through this one more time?"
He nods, but pulls his phone from the front center pocket of his sweatshirt, "Yeah, but it's supposed to get worse soon and I don't want to be stranded here all night."
Y/N hides a shudder as she stands from her seat on the stage. Her pointe shoes are disgusting from the amount of wear they've been getting lately, and she mentally groans at the thought of having to switch out to another pair sometime soon.
"Um..." Y/N places her hands on her hips and faces Harry, who's now sitting in the front row. "You can't be here."
"Sorry?"
She huffs. "You can't watch me. Go outside."
"...Why?"
"Because it's not ready yet," she explains hurriedly. She tries to avoid the confused, slightly amused expression on his face, but she can't help it when her gaze settles on the dimple in his cheek. "So, like, leave. Please."
"Y/N. People watch out hockey practice all the time."
"Hockey is different. Ballet is meant to be perfect. And it's not perfect yet, so you need to go."
"It's practice for a reason. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
"No. That's not an option in ballet."
"What is this for, anyway?"
She sighs in frustration and tugs at the hem of her wrap skirt. She feels a bit uncomfortable being the sole focus of his attention, especially when she's up on the stage beneath the studio lights.
"The spring showcase is in three weeks and I have a solo, hence the whole perfection thing."
"Where's your... coach, then?"
"Not a coach, an instructor," Y/N corrects, "And she didn't want to come in today because of the snow. Haven't you ever practiced on your own before?"
"Yeah, of course," Harry nods. "You must be really good if you have a solo."
"Don't change the subject. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can get out of here."
"Just do it, Y/N. My body fuckin' aches from my own practice and I don't want to go back up those stairs. I'll look at my phone the whole time if it makes you feel better."
Again, she lets out a loud sigh but doesn't fight him on it. She walks the length of the stage to grab her phone and restart her music. Before she presses 'play', she stares at him with narrowed eyes.
"Eyes on the phone. Don't even think about looking up here."
He snorts before nodding his head, making a show of opening the Instagram app and dramatically scrolling through it. With a roll of her eyes, she plays the only song she's been listening to for the past few weeks, and gets in her place.
She'll admit, she knows she can get a bit obsessive about memorizing a dance. She aims for perfection each and every time, even if she knows it's unattainable to expect that from herself especially as she's learning it. But with every run she does, her confidence slowly grows — she's nailing the fouettés and en pointes she struggled with a week ago, and she feels herself melting into the music, allowing her body to move perfectly in time with the steps she's learned like her life depends on it.
And then... she croaks.
During the grand adage, she loses her balance, her flexibility falters, and before she realizes it's happening, she's on the floor with a thrumming ankle, pain shooting out from the joint. She gasps loudly and tears immediately begin to flood her line of vision. The song continues on, making her feel sad and pathetic, but especially when Harry appears in her sight, a worried expression on his face.
"Are you okay?" he asks. She quickly tries to sniffle the tears away and nods wordlessly. "No, you're not."
He grabs her phone and pauses the music and her chest somewhat relaxes. He's back over in a moment, gently helping her stretch out her leg without moving her ankle.
"Do you have an injury here? Do I need to call the school medic?"
"Do not call the medic," she mutters through clenched teeth, "Yes, I have an ankle injury. It gets worse with the weather."
"So you already know what I'm about to say then."
She nods but she doesn't want to hear it, because she doesn't want to be kicked while she's down. It's what everyone does — you shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard with an injury, you should know better, don't you care about your craft? She's heard it from her parents, instructors, random medical staff a thousand times over.
And somehow, maybe Harry knows, because he leaves it at that. And she's grateful when she's not on the receiving end of a lecture.
"What do you need?" he asks softly. It's the gentlest she's ever heard him speak, and it makes her swallow tightly. "Ice? Do you have sports wrap?"
"I'm fine. Can you just pack my shit up so we can go?"
Harry stares at her like she's grown a second head. "You can't walk on this right now."
She shrugs.
"We have crutches and all that in the locker room, but you'll bust your ass in the snow," he thinks aloud. She sniffles again, this time involuntarily. "You're gonna hate this."
She knows what he's implying, so she's already shaking her head.
"Y/N, it's the only way you're getting out of here safely."
"I would quite literally rather be trapped in this stupid auditorium all night."
He rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic."
She shrugs. He treks on with his grand idea.
"I'm gonna go outside and bring my car around. And then, I'm gonna carry you out of here, and it's gonna be humiliating, but it'll be safe and we'll never speak about it again. Do you need me to bring you to urgent care or do you have supplies at home?"
Y/N knows he's right. He knows he's right, otherwise he wouldn't be so insistent on it. But the pain is continual, a pulsating, aching, throbbing that will 100% prevent her from walking, and she just. Wants. To Go. Home.
"I have shit at home," she finally mumbles, sitting up slightly to fix her mussed bun. "Crutches, wrap, pain relief balm."
"Okay, good." Harry's form deflates a bit, almost as if he's relieved she's decided to stop fighting him. "Let's get your things together and then I'll help you out to the front. You can wait there while I bring my car in front."
Admittedly, she's basically dead weight as he hurries around the stage, collecting her things. He stuffs them all in her bag and brings it over to her. Noticing a pair of sweats in her tote, he glances down at her expectedly.
"Do you want these?"
She sighs. It's a sad, defeated sound, and Harry really feels bad for her in the moment.
"We'll never talk about it again," he reminds her. She nods and she unwraps her skirt from her waist, folding it neatly beside her. Harry helps shimmy the sweatpants up her tight-clad legs, carefully minding her ankle and the leg warmers around them. It's a vulnerable position for both of them to be in — they've never been this close before, not with his large palms moving up her muscular legs, even if it's anything but sexual.
When they're ready to go, he instructs her to just stay seated, move her bum to the side of the stage, and he'll do the rest. She supposes she's impressed by his strength when he easily lifts her into his arms, her pink tote bag on one shoulder and his Adidas duffle bag on the other. She wants to roll her eyes when she feels his muscles flex beneath her as they silently exit the auditorium, but she knows he's going above and beyond for her right now. Instead, she shows her small bit of protest by simply crossing her arms over her chest. It makes him smile, but she doesn't notice it.
He gently lowers her to a bench inside and close to the door. He takes their things and wraps his puffer jacket just a bit closer to his form as he mumbles out to stay here, making quick work to head out to the parking lot. She wants to ask him where she could possibly go, but she guesses that if she could walk, she definitely would.
In the meantime, Y/N texts her group chat with her friends to let her know that fell on her ankle, but she's fine. It's embarrassing to admit that Harry of all people is taking care of her and making sure she gets home safely, and their responses make her blush.
do u think he could lift u over his head like in dirty dancing
abs?
are u guys gonna........
does he smell good?
Harry returns when she's typing out a reply to her friends, telling them to keep it in their pants. They go through the routine again and this time it's just a tinge less embarrassing now that they've done it once. As soon as he helps her into the car — which, she's grateful that he's already pumping the heat — she lets out a loud exhale, cutting it off as soon as he winds around the front and gets in the driver's seat.
"You feel okay?" he asks as he shifts gears into drive.
She nods, doing her best to swallow her pride. "Yeah. Thank you."
"Of course," he shrugs as if it's the easiest thing he's done all day. "Are you good to deal with this when you get home?"
"Mhm. Ice, wrap it, keep it elevated."
"Stay off of it and take some ibuprofen, too."
"I know."
"Good," he praises. The drive home is slow and quiet and Y/N keeps the side of her head pressed against the cool window. She wants to fall asleep, and she probably would if she didn't live so close by.
When his car slowly begins to come to a stop outside of her apartment, she feels it — an all-consuming need to blurt out her affection and gratitude to him, even if she's been attempting to suppress it for weeks.
"I would do this for you too." she spews out, her eyes widening in surprise. Harry's eyebrows furrow as he undoes his seatbelt, then hers.
"What?"
"I would do this for you too," she repeats, keeping her eyes set on the snow falling in front of them. "I mean, I wouldn't be able to carry you, but I would do this for you if you needed it. I would drive you home and make sure you were okay. I just want you to know that I'm thankful for this. And I know I'm grumpy with you a lot of the time, but I wouldn't sacrifice you or do some voodoo stuff. I... I like having you around. You're very nice."
She can't force herself to turn and look at him, but she can feel his gaze set on the side of her face. Even worse, from her peripheral vision, she can see the grin growing, like he's in the Grinch.
"Thank you for saying that," he says, and it sounds like he actually means it. "I'm glad you wouldn't sacrifice me, because I like being around you."
"Okay." Y/N nods curtly, as if they've just made some type of business proposition.
It makes Harry laugh. "Okay."
565 notes · View notes
yelenasdiary · 2 months
Note
I saw your request were open and I’ve been dying to send you this request. I was wondering if you could do a top F reader x bottom Wanda. Reader is an eternal and their also deaf. They first met Wanda after the wandavision events. They have a one night stand and Wanda finds one she’s pregnant (reader has a penis} so now they’re trying to navigate the pregnancy and their relationship. They agree to do parent but as time goes on they start to fall in love! Please add a bunch of smut and fluff! Maybe some angst please
Take Me Home
Pairing:  Wanda Maximoff x Eternal, Fem! & Deaf! Reader
Summary:  A one night stand changes everything for the better.
Angst, Fluff & Brief Mention of Smut. 18+ ONLY, Minors & Men DNI!
Warnings: Mentions of Drinking, Reader has a penis, Unprotected Sex, Oral (Wanda Receiving), Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Mentions of Abortion | 2.5K
AC: Please know that I am not Deaf. So I write this purely on research, if I have said anything wrong or offensive, please kindly message me so I can fix it. I mean absolutely no harm. Reader communicates via sign language, so all conversations are in italics, this means they are signing and not verbally speaking. Thank you for sending this, although I didn’t include a full smut scene I still hope you enjoy this! x
Cupid's Dream Masterlist
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Two pink lines stared back at her while her heart skipped a beat. She knew it was true before she even took the test, tears filled her eyes as she remembered the events that took place in Westview. Now in hiding, the ex-Avenger only had herself to fall back on. It was the one time she decided to grab a hot meal at the local bar near her remote mountainside cabin in the woods of Sokovia when she met you. 
You were having a few drinks by yourself when the woman sat only inches beside you at the bar. She was troubled, her sad presence screamed to you as you turned to her slightly and gave her a soft welcoming smile. She smiled back, even though she could barely bring herself to form the returning smile. 
“Rough Day?” you asked in sign language. She nodded, “rough couple of months” she signed back.
“Here, let me.” You smiled once more before placing a $10 bill on the bar to pay for her drink, “it seems you need something good right now” you signed. 
“Thank you” the woman smiled softly before taking a sip of her wine. 
She intrigued you to say the least, you’d never seen her around here before and assumed she was new to the small town, if you’d even call it that. The small street of buildings was only built for loggers that worked high in the mountains; it had the essentials. A small general store for basic needs, a mechanic and hardware store, a bakery, a doctor’s office and of course the bar which also acted as a restaurant. A small population of 100 people lived around here, well, 101 now that you’d made a cabin home for the past three months. 
You tried to go back to doing your own thing, having a drink, and completing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper but the woman’s running mind distracted your focus. You turned to face her only to notice she was already looking at you. Her eyes spoke a million words and suddenly you knew she wasn’t like anybody else in the bar. 
“Do you want to go for a walk?” you asked. She was hesitant at first, taking another sip of her drink so she didn’t waste your money, but she nodded.
“Are you here for me?” Wanda asked while the two of you walked slowly down the single road street covered in snow. “No. I am just a stranger you met in a bar” you replied with a soft smile in hopes it would ease her worries. It didn’t take Wanda very long to work out that you weren’t like everybody else in this town, there was a different kind of communication between the two of you. She could hear your thoughts just as much as you could hear hers. Although you knew very little of the woman, you knew enough to know she was in pain. 
----
Wanda’s mind replayed that night after you’d walked her home. How her nails dug deeply into your back as your lips were interlocked with hers and the way you reach for the bedsheets as your tongue overstimulated her clit but more importantly, she remembered the way you made her feel and how she’d never felt the things you made her feel, how you were able to make her forget even just for that night how much she was truly hurting. 
Those thoughts brought her back to the two pink lines staring back at her. “Fuck” she mumbled quietly to herself as she placed the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t having a moment while washing her hands that her twin boys that she missed deeply and how badly she wished to hold them just once more. 
Wanda rang your doorbell, a blue light flickered throughout your small cabin to alert you somebody was at the door. Wanda was the last person you expected to be standing on the other side, even if you sensed it was her before you even turned the knob. 
“Wanda how are you?” you asked, greeting her with a soft smile. She didn’t return the smile; her eyes were slightly puffy and red. “Is everything okay?” you asked. 
“Can I come in? we need to talk” she replied. You nodded, moving to the side to allow her to walk into your home. “I’m really sorry to come here out of the blue” she turned to you as you closed the door behind her. 
“Don’t stress, it’s okay. Not sure how you found my address but it’s okay” you chuckled in hopes it would lighten the mood, but it didn’t. 
“I’m pregnant” she said, getting to the point. The news shocked you a little but explained why you felt she didn’t arrive alone. “I don’t expect you to do anything or even want to be a part of this. I just thought you had a right to know” Wanda added. 
“It takes two to tangle, are you okay?” you replied trying to process the news. Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as she shrugged, “I d-don’t know, I made some mistakes that lead me to the reason why I even moved here” she explained, wiping the falling tears from her cheeks. You knew what she was talking about, you were an Eternal, of course you knew but you weren’t allowed to do anything about the events of Westview, and you didn’t ask too many questions about the situation. 
“I don’t want you to worry about anything, I am here for you and the baby. Whatever you decide to do, I am here. If you want to keep it, we will work it out. If you want to have an abortion, I will be there to hold your hand” you smiled ever so softly before you reached to get her a tissue. Wanda looked you in the eyes, allowing you to hear all her worries and concerns. 
You reached for her hand, “you’re not alone. We are in this together” you assured her. “We barely know each other. I do not expect you to step up like this” Wanda replied. 
“Let’s start with meeting up for coffee, well, decaf coffee. How does that sound? We can get to know each other more and talk about what is on your mind and if you want to go through with this or not” you offered. 
Wanda nodded as a light smile tugged at her lips, “I would like that, thank you”.
----
As the weeks went on, you and Wanda met for coffee three times a week. Most of the conversations were about getting to know one another and sometimes Wanda would bring up a worry or concern she had. You never asked her if she had made a decision on whether she would be keeping the baby or not, you felt that was something she would tell you when she was ready. 
Of course, one of Wanda’s most worrying concern was the baby’s health and what it meant for the baby to be born with the shared genes of a Witch and an Eternal. Both with so much power and abilities, it was something that Wanda couldn’t shake. This led to you telling her everything you knew about your abilities and powers. 
“This baby is going to be more than a handful of surprises” Wanda smiled softly making your eyes widen with excitement. 
“Does this mean you’ve made a decision?” you asked. Wanda nodded, “I want to have this baby. I want to do this with you and its okay if you don’t want to do this” she replied. You stood up from your seat and embraced Wanda in a hug, “I want to do this with you as well” you smiled as you both pulled away.
“I guess this means we have a lot more to talk about” Wanda smiled. 
----
You didn’t want to miss a single moment during Wanda’s pregnancy, it was a conversation that you brought to the table before Wanda asked if you’d like to come spend a couple nights a week at her place. You loved cooking for her every night and making her breakfast in bed when her morning sickness went away. After so many years of seeming almost everything, you never thought you’d find something so special again. 
Life was growing in front of your eyes, you finally had something to be excited about once again. A new chapter was opening up for you, a new life, a life you never thought you’d be able to have so the thought never crossed your mind and Wanda could see just how happy you were. She saw the smile on your face whenever she caught you admiring the ultra-sound photo, she saw the sparkle in your eyes whenever the two of you had a conversation about the baby. 
But for Wanda, it wasn’t the same. Although she was happy about having a baby, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking of her boys and how she wondered what they would think of a baby sibling. She wondered how they would react, she wondered if they would wish for a baby brother or sister, she wondered if they had their own name ideas to add to the list you and Wanda had slowly began to dot down. 
“What were they like? Your boys” you asked Wanda one night while she was lost in thought. She looked at you and smiled softly at the thought of talking about her twins. “They were perfect. Tommy is my little prankster” she starts with a chuckle, “he was always getting himself in all sorts of mischief. Billy, he was the opposite. He loved video games and training our dog Sparky. Both boys loved their ice cream and movie night” the smile on her lips only grew wider as she talked more about the beloved twins. 
“They sound like a lot of fun; you must miss them” you placed a hand on top of Wanda’s for comfort. 
“I do, a lot” A tear rolled down her cheek. You could tell she needed a shift of conversation and offered to make her a banana split milkshake to fill her cravings. 
----
At six months, you and Wanda had grown closer. You were both wanting this co-parenting plan to work and began to look around for a home to move into together. The two of you would decorate the nursey together, Wanda using her powers to move the furniture around to save the hassle of you both burning yourselves out doing it. You went to every doctor’s appointment with Wanda and kept every ultra-sound photo they offered. Wanda loved seeing how excited and happy you were and as time went on, she found herself becoming more comfortable with the fact the twins weren’t here to share this new chapter with her. 
“How did you book this place?” Wanda asked after the waiter seated you both. It was Wanda’s birthday and you wanted to do something special for her, so you booked reservations at a restaurant she’d been talking about a lot recently. 
“I know the owner, they kind of owe me a favour” you replied before picking up the menu. Things had slightly been a little different between you both, usually you could hear each other’s thoughts and feelings but recently you had trouble connecting with Wanda that way. You thought maybe it was something to do with the pregnancy and maybe she just wanted that extra bit of privacy, so you tried not to think about it as much, but it was hard when you found yourself falling for her. 
“This is certainly a surprise, thank you” Wanda smiled. You returned the smile but quickly used the menu to hide the blushing of your cheeks. This was a new feeling that you had no control over. 
“Has something happened? Between us?” Wanda asked shortly after finishing her main meal, you shook your head before taking a mouthful of your drink. “Not at all, have I done something to make you think that?” you asked. 
“You just seem a little distant lately, that’s all” Wanda replied. 
“I’m sorry. I just thought that with only a few months left until the baby arrives that you might want some more alone time” you explained, not entirely a lie but a good enough excuse to stop her from thinking it was something more. 
“You know, we have spoken a lot about myself over the last few months but you don’t like to share much. I am here for you like you are for me and if you want to talk about anything, you can talk to me. We’re in this together, remember?” Wanda said looking deeply into your eyes. You took another mouthful of your drink and deep breath before replying. 
“I used to have a family and friends, but some went back to planet Olympia, some stayed on Earth and are trying to live a normal life, but I never felt like I fitted in anywhere. Not here and not in Olympia. I have been on my own for many years and I was getting tired of living this repetitive life. But when you said you wanted to keep the baby, everything changed for me. You have given me something new and exciting, a new life and I don’t want to ruin it because of something I can’t control” you explained.
“Why would you think you would ruin this? I would never stop you from being in our baby’s life if things didn’t work out with our plan” Wanda assured you. 
“Feelings weren’t apart of the plan” you replied. 
Wanda froze for a moment before she stood from her seat, you did the same thinking she was leaving but instead she walked up to you and gently cupped your face and kissing you deeply. You kissed her back, your hands resting gently on her lips, ever so slightly pulling her closer to you as you deepened the kiss. 
“Take me home” Wanda smiled softly as you both pulled away for air.
----
You woke up to find Wanda’s side of the bed empty, there was only one place she would be. You walked down the hall and there she was, cradling your baby girl back to sleep. The sight in front of you made you smile softly before you walked up behind Wanda, wrapping your arms around her and placing a kiss on her cheek. Wanda smiled softly, never taking her eyes off the little girl in her arms. 
Your body moved with Wanda’s until the little girl’s eyes came to a close and Wanda carefully placed her back in her crib. She turned in your arms to face you, kissing you softly. 
“I know it was your turn to tend to her, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s perfect” Wanda smiled. “Next time, wake me. I don’t want to miss a single thing” you replied before kissing her once more.
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586 notes · View notes
lydiimae · 14 days
Text
Gentle
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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is
A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3
Req found here <3
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Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.
You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.
Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.
He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.
It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.
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Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.
You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.
You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.
"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.
You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.
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Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.
You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.
He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.
He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.
He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.
The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.
You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.
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The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.
"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.
The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.
He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.
He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.
The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.
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Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.
"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.
You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.
You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.
"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.
"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.
You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.
Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.
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She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.
"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.
"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.
After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.
You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.
You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.
His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.
Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.
He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.
That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.
The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?
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351 notes · View notes
sageispunk · 7 months
Text
What U Need (18+)
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Kinktober prompt: exhibitionism (day 3)
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Teasing Joel underneath a table in a bar sometimes leads to getting ruined on the side of the road.
"Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar."
wordcount: 2.5K+
warnings: no Y/N, preestablished relationship, age gap (early 20s + mid-40s), no-outbreak + no sarah, reader’s feeling a bit feral in a bar, joel doesn’t talk much at first, intoxication, teasing, exhibition/public play (no panties in public), over-clothes touching, cursing (obv), degrading language (he calls reader a “dumb fucking slut” at one point), unprotected p-in-v sex (WRAP B4 U TAP), foreplay, angry/horny joel, kinda desperate reader tbh, groping, joel gets a bit rough, the word “daddy” is used several times, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, CREAMPIE, reader has hair that can be gripped/pulled
A/N: follow my sideblog @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs to be updated when i post!! 🩷
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You were on your third– no, fourth cocktail since arriving at the bar with Joel about thirty minutes ago. Your body was so warm that you could feel your dress clinging to your skin from the light moisture. You looked across the table at Joel, who was silently people-watching as he nursed his second glass of whiskey. He looked so sexy tonight, dressed in a black crew neck shirt that was tight enough to show off the outlines of his chest and beefy biceps. He also wore the necklace you recently bought him for his birthday, a simple thin gold chain that you found that same night was nice to look at while he was propped up above you, pounding your pussy into oblivion.
The memory of that night began to play in your mind, making your body heat up even more. Your feet subconsciously moved around under the table as your thighs clenched, one of them bumping into Joel’s, bringing his attention back to you. “Y’okay there, darlin’?”
You looked into his dark chocolate eyes, and responded. “Mhm, just a little warm, is all…”
He could tell there was more but decided to leave it be, to your surprise. You could feel your frustration growing the longer you sat still in your seat. Then his phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and let out a deep sigh as he began to type out a reply. “Work?” You asked, already knowing the answer. The only other option would’ve been Tommy, and Tommy would’ve just called.
Joel grunted out a ‘yea’ and set the phone back down. The lack of conversation had you feeling needy, not having seen him all day because of work, and even now at 10 o’clock, work was still getting in the way. You watched as he picked up the glass and knocked back the rest of his drink, the way his adam’s apple bobbed as the liquid slid down his throat had your brain feeling fuzzy.
You cleared your throat, deciding to down the rest of the margarita. Joel noticed you were finished too, and slid out of the booth. “Heading over, y’want another?” You nodded, making brief eye contact before your eyes nervously looked elsewhere. He lingered back for half a second, wondering what was making you act so strange, but decided to just head to the counter.
After Joel left, your neediness, horniness, whatever it was–it skyrocketed. Some part of you wanted to get up and drag him into the restroom so he could fuck your brains out in a filthy stall, but you knew he’d probably never go for it. Joel wasn’t a prude, far from it, but public sex wasn’t something the two of you ever got into.
Tonight though, you were feeling frisky and wanted to take some risks. Your booth was tucked away in a darker part of the bar, not many people were near you so you weren’t worried about being caught doing anything lewd. You briefly glanced around to be completely sure no one was watching, before slyly bringing your hands under the table, sliding your damp lace thong down your soft legs. Once you had the small fabric bunched up in your hands, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep a poker face. Excitement rushed through your system–paired with the alcohol, you were beginning to feel invincible.
A few moments later, Joel came back, both of your drinks in hand. As he slid back into the booth, he noticed the flustered look on your face and cocked his eyebrow a little. “Here ya go, baby.” His eyes were trained on your face as he handed it to you, the look in his eye a bit dark, calculating.
It turned you on, having no panties on in public, but even more that Joel didn’t know yet. However, you didn’t think this far ahead and you really wanted him to know as soon as possible, just to see what he might do. “Thank you, Joel..” You made doe eyes at him, taking in the way he shifted in his seat, obviously beginning to feel the effects of the brown liquor. “I missed you today, I feel like I don’t get to see you much because you’ve been working so much,” There was a slight pout in your voice, and it drew him in.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” His deep Texan accent paired with the petname sent a shiver down your spine, all the way to your lower belly. He leaned into the table more, face coming in closer and you could see the way his gaze kept moving back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “How can I make it up to ya?”
You mirrored his actions, leaning in on your left elbow with the side of your face in your palm, leaving only a few inches between both your faces. “Mm, I dunno, let me think..” You took this as your opportunity to sneakily find his hands under the table with your right hand, transferring the fabric to his hold. You innocently smiled at the confusion on his face while he pulled back to look at what you gave him.
“Wait don’t–” You chuckled as he almost brought the panties back over the table. Joel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what the hell you were trying to pull on him. Your eyes focused on his face, enjoying each expression on his face as he realized what he was holding.
He whispered your name, in a shocked but slightly dark tone, watching as you sat back in your seat with a big grin on your face. “What the hell do y’think you’re doin?!” He kept his voice down but the harshness remained. You could feel your seat getting wetter, your slick dripping down your thighs onto the faux leather.
With a shrug and another sip of your drink, you responded. “Just wanted to show you how much I’ve been missing you, is all.”
He was more taken aback than you expected. “By takin’ your panties off in the middle of a bar, like a fuckin’ slut??”
You leaned back in, faux innocence dripping from your lips. “I’m sorry daddy, do you not like it?” As soon as that word left your mouth, Joel’s eyes got darker, almost black. You had him. Your right hand snuck back under the table, finding its way to his crotch, where lo-and-behold sat a warm, throbbing, rock-hard cock in a tight pair of jeans. “If you don’t like it, I can put them back on. Might get caught though…” You slowly moved your hand up and down his bulge, finding pleasure in the way he struggled to keep his eyes open and stern.
“Seems you like it when I act like a slut, based on how hard your cock is for me right now.” You gave a gentle squeeze and smiled when he groaned, eyes fluttering shut and mumbling quietly. “Jesus Christ.”
Your hands trailed along the zipper of his jeans, fingers teasing his cock over the fabric long enough to make Joel Miller begin to fall apart right in front of you. Right here, in the middle of this bar.
“Alright, that’s enough.” He snapped out of it, eyes coming back up to meet yours with nothing but need in them. “Get the fuck up. Now.” You removed your hand, a bit thrown at the harshness of his voice but ultimately turned on and ready to do anything he asked of you. He threw back the rest of his whiskey and pulled out his wallet, as you sipped the remnants of your drink.
Joel threw down a wad of cash on the table before looking at you with a look that said “don’t make me repeat myself.” You stood, careful to keep your way-too-short dress below your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth at the wetness you left behind on the leather. As you took a napkin to wipe it up, Joel quickly stood up and roughly grabbed your arm to pull you in front of him, an effort to hide his huge boner from the other patrons. “Come on, sweetheart.” He gritted in your ear, letting you sort of guide him out the bar and to his truck.
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For the past five minutes, Joel had been yelling your ear off. He was mad, mad that you would pull that shit in his favorite bar. Where everyone there knows him and his quiet but handy reputation. He was mad that you would risk fucking that all up ‘just for some dick.’
Like he doesn’t know the hold his dick has on you.
Anyways he shouted at you, driving about 15 over on the same dark road the two of you took to go home everyday. It didn’t bother you, really. You knew there was a chance he’d be pissed off, you were prepared. What was bothering you was the fact that you still hadn’t cum. You thought maybe he’d be mad and you would have the best angry sex of your life, right in the truck outside the bar, but nope.
“Are you even fuckin’ listening t’me?” His voice cut through your thoughts again, and you looked over, not even having to answer because he could read the look on your face. “Of course not, all you care about is your fuckin’ pussy. You probably can’t comprehend a goddamn thing I’m saying right now, can ya? Dumb fucking slut.”
The words he spit out at you had an unreal effect on you. The degradation had you sopping wet, surely soaking his seat. You tried not to squirm too much but you were in desperate need of some friction, you needed something or someone to touch you. Taking a deep sigh, you chose to not respond to him, focusing more on ways to achieve an orgasm without touch. Your thighs trembled slightly as they squeezed together, giving your clit a little extra stimulation. A breathy moan escaped your throat, catching Joel’s attention once again.
He didn’t comment this time, just glanced over at you with a look you couldn’t place. You saw him shake his head from your peripheral, but you paid him no mind, continuing your squeezing and looking out the dark window. Suddenly, the truck was pulling off onto some dark backroad that you’ve never gone on. Joel parked off on the side and cut the car off.
“What–” He cut you off. “Get out.”
You unbuckled, a bit confused but following orders nonetheless. Once you were out of the vehicle, you walked around the back where he stood. “Joel, what are we–” He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your face close to his, so that you could see him better.
“Since you can’t control yourself, we’re just gonna have to do this here.” His lips were so close to yours, you wanted so badly to move closer to feel them on your own, but his grip on you was tight. He tilted your head back with the fist in your hair, exposing your throat to him, other hand placed firmly on your jaw. When you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe along your neck, you thought you would combust.
“Joooeellll…” You cried out, almost overstimulated by the way he was licking and sucking on your favorite spots. He groaned into your skin, the sound sending a pang to your lower stomach. God, he needs you as much as you need him.
You brought one hand down to his cock–still hard as a rock in his jeans–groping and squeezing the bulge, pulling more deep groans out of him. He took a break from his conquest on your neck and chest, turning you around to face the tailgate of his truck. “Fuck, darlin’...you’ve been wanting this all night, huh?”
You shook your head. “All day, daddy.”
“Say it again.” He ground into your ass with his cock, and you pushed back, wishing he would just take them off.
“I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day, daddy. I want your cock so bad, I need it in me please, just fuck me please…” You rambled, desperately needing him to ruin you.
You heard his zipper open, then the shuffle of his jeans down his legs, and you felt as though you’d been lost in the desert for weeks and finally, you’ve come across a cold spring of water. “One more time for me, baby.”
“Please fuck me daddy.” You cried out, not caring if anyone could hear you, even though it was unlikely in this rural area. As soon as the last word left your mouth, Joel pushed you forward slightly, causing your dress to finally roll up to your waist, and slid right inside of you, the both of you groaning in unison. He pulled back out slowly, drawing a long wail of his name out of your throat, before he quickly thrusted back inside of your warmth. His long, thick cock stretched you out and filled you up to the brim, reaching your favorite spot with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, goddamn this pussy is so fucking wet f’me…” Joel groaned praise into your ear, one hand still in your hair and the other now gripping your hip.
You used the little energy you had left to meet his rhythm, throwing your ass back to him, occasionally receiving a hard slap or two. “Joellll, baby, fuck!” Those three words made up your only vocabulary for a couple minutes, until he got you right there, at the edge.
“I’m so close, daddy.”
“I know baby, I can feel it, let go f’me okay. Cum for me sweetheart, you got it.” The degradation from only a few moments ago paired with the sweet things he was now panting in your ear had you about to explode. One of your hands gripped onto the tailgate and the other went straight to your clit, rubbing as fast as you could.
All you could hear was your own breathy moans, paired with Joel’s deep groans and the sloppy, gushing, wet unity of your two bodies.
Your entire body tightened up as you tipped over the edge, finally getting that release that you’ve needed all day. You screamed out in total bliss, your eyesight leaving you for a few moments. Right behind you, Joel let out a longggg groan, crying out to you. “Fuck, baby I’m cumming.”
“Cum for me, daddy, fuckkkk..” You felt him pulsing inside you, filling you up until it was leaking out around his cock. His hips slowed and stuttered, eventually slowing way down, his upper body resting on your back. “Jesus Christ,” Joel panted, leaving a couple kisses on your back.
You chuckled, all of a sudden feeling very, very tired and blissed out. Joel left one last kiss on the back of your neck before slowly pulling out, trying not to overstimulate you, with his cum spilling right after. “Oh, fuck,” you shivered.
You turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders as he pulled his jeans back up, sloppily pulling him in for a kiss, needing to feel his soft lips on yours. He obliged you for a few moments, before pulling back and grabbing something out of his back pocket.
Your panties.
“C’mon baby, let’s put these back on and head home.”
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AAAAAAH finally published, i know it's past midnight now its a little late (not if we count the west coast tho hehe). but my second post (and my first joel fic)!! so excited to share this with you guys, i rlly hope u enjoy it!! please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u do. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333
i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.
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katsu28 · 9 months
Text
through the lens
pairing: jamie tartt x reader 
summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you
warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k
a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot 
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The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric. 
AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes. 
All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him. 
He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus. 
Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.
More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps. 
Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head. 
“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say. 
You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him. 
“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise. 
You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him. 
“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?” 
“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you. 
“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.
Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual. 
Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place. 
Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!” 
“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.
“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy. 
“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team. 
“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?” 
Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course. 
“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?” 
Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.” 
“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.
He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you. 
You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team. 
“So. What’d you think of the game?” 
“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.” 
“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!” 
“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.” 
“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.” 
“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.” 
“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.” 
While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him. 
Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”
“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect. 
“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake. 
“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true. 
Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did. 
On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for. 
Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time. 
It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials. 
A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair. 
“D’you ever stop working?” 
“Meaning?” 
“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.” 
“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears. 
You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. 
“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.” 
“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside. 
“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere. 
“You’re just saying that.” 
“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly. 
“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it. 
“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”
“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back. 
But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.” 
“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.
“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now. 
You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?” 
“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.” 
“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.” 
He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?” 
“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.” 
“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”
“If you can handle it.” 
Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.” 
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hoony2k · 3 months
Text
WINTER BLUES
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Synopsis: A road trip where Sunghoon can't tell the difference between car sickness and a fever but thankfully you and the boys can.
PAIRING: sunghoon x reader
GENRE: fluff, angst with comfort, established relationship
WARNINGS: throwing up (implied), sickness themes, sunghoon whines a lot, both are simps
WORD COUNT: 2.5k+
NOTE: hii first request so I'm very excited. I hope you like it and enjoy :)
requested masterlist
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"I get car sick sometimes", is what Sunghoon said three seconds before clambering into Heeseung's hand-me-down Honda Civic. You waited for an elaboration, for him to continue yet he offered none. Jake, stood next to you and smiled with all his might. Whether he ignored your puzzled face or just didn't hear his friend was unknown to you but you followed your lover in the car as Jake nudged you.
Twenty minutes into the highway, Sunghoon announced that he needed to throw up or he would die. Heeseung groaned, " My guy, we just started. Can't you hold it in?" 
You kicked the back of his seat and he squeaked in shock. "Hee, that's the one thing you don't do when you need to throw up". You turned to your lover and inspected him. 
His usually bright complexion appeared dull and flushed under his woolly scarf, eyes lidded from sleep or dizziness, you couldn't decipher. When you grabbed onto his palm to provide solace, you realised just how warm he was, how his sweaty palms soaked your gloves, and the way his fingers trembled with each heavy breath. A peek at the car console showed that the heater was on but the car wasn't even warm which is why Jake kept shivering next to you. The conditioner had been jammed ever since teenage Heeseung dropped coffee on the controls so it would only blow lukewarm air in all seasons. 
You leaned closer to your lover who graciously accepted your warmth. He tried to bury his head in the crock of your neck but you pushed his head until it gently hit the headrest. He groaned in dismay at the loss of contact and, next to you, Jake groaned at what he thought was an act of love. 
"God, I wish I was in Jay's car," he grumbled," Niki keeps sending me snaps". He turned his phone to face you, a blurry pixilated Niki and Jungwon showed off their bounty with large smiles, several packets of chips, cans of juice and one healthy granola, presumably for Jay. 
Your heart gleamed at the sight until you remembered the problem at hand. You pushed his phone away. "Doesn't Hoon look sick? I don't think it's car sickness" 
Jake peeked over your form to look at Sunghoon, he scratched his head, "Sick? He looks seconds away from ascending. What did you do?" 
You gaped at him and spluttered to defend yourself. "I didn't do anything! He's been like this for a while". 
Next to you, Sunghoon tsked loudly. He had closed his eyes, thick brows furrowed and his plush lips were pulled back in a thin line. "He's right here And it's just mild car sickness", his voice was sharp but there was a slight crack. You gave Jake a pointed look when he stifled his giggles behind a hand.
From the front seat, Heeseung glanced at you three through the rear mirror and spoke up," Just an hour until we reach the first stop, Hoon, fighting!" 
Sunghoon groaned loudly, then mumbled a quiet "don't call me that" so delicate, only your ears caught it. This time when he snuggled into you, you accepted him and wrapped your arms around his shivering frame in a warm bear hug. His dark locks tickled your nose as he tried to bury himself even further in you, or maybe he was trying to fit himself in your (read: his) coat. You placed several delicate kisses on his crown. 
Jake pretended to throw up. Next to Heeseung, Sunoo paused his chewing to laugh and then turned his torso to offer a water bottle. His cheeks were curved as he also offered a smile and you didn't feel so chilly anymore. Even though Sunghoon was snoring in your embrace you took the water bottle in case he woke up. 
Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open and his gaze concentrated on light brown wood that levitated before his eyes. Far too disoriented, he tried to puzzle his surroundings. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realise that he stared at a wooden roof and was cushioned under several duvets, sweat dripped from his hairline and his thick sweater clung onto his back like a parasite. The cabin, he rationalised, though he had no memory of entering it or even waking up in the car.
His head thumped as if he had smashed it against the wall, eyes pinching with every blink. Thankfully, the room was lit up by a small lamp that didn't blind him. each part of him ached, begged him to drift off to Lala land again but the sticky, dirty feeling of being caged under all the materials annoyed him to his core. He tried to sit up but his arms could not support his weight. So much for the gym. He barely lifted a couple of inches before he fell onto the pillows, the movement, albeit small, shook his vision and he scrunched his face in pain.
His conquest to brush his bangs out of his face halted as his ears picked up snores emitting from his left side. He thought of you and how ethereal you looked asleep and the butterflies inside his rib cage danced wildly, a dimple appeared on his face and he leisurely turned his face towards your body...except.. his gaze landed upon dark hair with curled tips and a nose that did not resemble yours at all. He groaned loudly when he connected the face to the name. Jungwon was cuddled next to Sunghoon, softly snoring and blissfully unaware of how Sunghoon was mentally writing the sequel to Inferno in his head.
He wrongfully glared at the innocent boy when suddenly, from the corner of his eye, a bright flash that momentarily dazed him, caused him to fling his arm in the direction to protect himself. A loud cackle that was far too familiar made his heart sink and alerted him of another presence.
Sunghoon pulled the duvets over his head and wallowed in the darkness to save the small shred of sanity left. Niki continued laughing as he climbed the bed and softly shook Sunghoon.
"All of these are going in the blackmail folder soon," he sweetly reminded Sunghoon who wondered where the hell you had gone off to. His lack of reaction spoke loudly to Niki. "Your girl's in the kitchen with Jay".
At the hopeful prospect of food, Sunghoon's ears perked up like a cat, he peeked out to glare at Niki, lax beady eyes stared at him but Niki was unaffected. He casually pocketed his phone.
"You better not be lying Niki," Sunghoon tried to warn the younger boy but his voice came out wrong, too nasally and unlike himself. It caught him off guard and his face flushed out of slight humiliation. Sunghoon hated his moments of weakness to manifest in front of others, gosh he missed you. The one person he could let his walls crumble in front of. He wished you were here, cradling his face in your lap as you cooed him in a sweet voice, and brushed your fingers through his hair.
"What the hell is wrong with me?", he lamented at his inner turmoil. Niki shrugged, and a lazy smile hung on his face.
the oak door opened to let out a slight breeze of chilly air and you emerged through it like an angel. You were carrying a tray of food, two bowls that smelt heavenly and made his stomach do backflips. Your eyes lacked their usual mirth, instead, there was nervousness stitched on your face and Sunghoon felt awful for worrying his lover.
In an urgent need to fall back into routine and do tasks for you, Sunghoon pushed down his blankets to reach you so he could grab the tray from you but Jungwon, now wide awake, placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Sunghoon immediately sat down. Jungwon offered him a dimpled smile and he returned it with an uneasy one.
When you came closer, Niki grabbed the tray from you and placed it on a side table Sunghoon hadn't noticed before. He had zero time to soak in his surroundings but he didn't need to anymore since his tunnel vision zoomed on you.
Your cheeks lifted when you smiled at Sunghoon but he saw how it didn't curve your eyes, how the tips of your smile quivered. Physically, his body ached, his eyes burned and he felt gross and heavy for a different cause. He cast his eyes to his hands and tinkered with the furry blanket to distract himself.
You sighed softly and took a step toward him. Pulling his shivering frame to rest on your torso, the heat his body radiated did not soothe you. But what disturbed you more was the solemn expression he wore.
You raked your fingers through his hair, something only you could do as permitted by Sunghoon's law and you felt his giggles before his shoulders shook. He chose to look up at you, eyes slightly watery and red nose scrunched as he showed off the smile you cherish. You imitated him.
Finally feeling lighter and not as gross, Sunghoon circled his arms around your waist and brought you as close as possible. Your knees hit the mattress and he slowly leaned backwards until you flicked his forehead.
Immediately, he barked in pain and let go of your hips. You clicked your tongue.
Sunghoon let gravity pull him onto the cushions with a loud huff and whine but you paid no attention. Carefully, you scoped some porridge and gently blew on it to cool. 
From the corner of his eyes, Sunghoon observed how you placed your palm under the spoon to catch any hot droplet and he felt fuzzy inside. Quickly he sat up and parted his lips to take the first bite and immediately he was sent to heaven. He wasn’t sure if it was the flavours on his tongue or your presence next to him but he could see his health bar regenerating. He closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively, finally eating after hours. 
When you turned to the bowl for his second bite, he spoke up. 
“There’s no need to eat more. I feel so much better just by looking at you.”
It was your turn to groan at his dramatic antics, grip on the utensil loosened as you turned to pinch his cheeks but he swatted your hand away. Interlocked your fingers tightly. 
“You’re so stupid,” you faux insulted to distract him from how his genuine words affected you, and he dared to giggle, shoulder shook with every melody that dripped from his mouth. Gosh, you missed his laughter. You hated seeing your loved ones sick. 
Another bite was brought near him with precise care as the first one. His eyes gleamed when he ate the porridge, you assumed it was because of Jay’s delectable famous cooking but the boy was on cloud 9 because you were hand-feeding him. You aka his lover aka his beloved who cared for him. Usually, he fed you from his plate but the role reversal made him melt. 
Before you could spoon another mouthful, he squeezed your hand to pause your actions. 
“Have you eaten?”, he whispered the words with a tile of his head, a stray lock fell onto his forehead. Sunghoon saw the twinkle in your smile and, mirth in your eyes and he anticipated your response. 
Thinking about it was one thing, but saying the words out loud made you bashful, your gaze moved to your hand which he held so tight. 
“I feel so full just by looking at you”, you mimicked his words.
His response was immediate, like a cat that licked a sour lemon, he scrunched his features, nose crinkling and fangs appearing, he cringed with his entire body and fell onto the bed once more. His dark hair draped across his face like a curtain and he pressed his face into the duvets, wailing loudly like a siren. 
Now you just felt embarrassed. So, you slapped his back with little force.
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad!”, you defended your crumbling dignity. He ignored you and began to crawl under the duvet until you said his name. It made him spring out of the covers to face you with a big frown, thick brows stitched together, he glared at you with a pout and flushed cheeks. You waited for him to say something, a couple of seconds passed until he heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. 
“You’re not supposed to call me Sunghoon”. His explanation gave literally no explanation so you stared at him, puzzled and he whined at your lack of comprehension.  
“That’s literally your name?”, you stated.
Did he get so sick he forgot? Sunghoon sighed once more, this time it wasn’t exaggerated but it came deep from within your soul, as if this very conversation burdened him. Then, he grabbed your shoulders and shook you back and forth, head swaying. Based on his behaviour you started to believe that Jay added magical healing potions when you weren’t looking. He seemed to be recovering too quickly. 
“Hoon”, he said with too much emphasis. “That’s my name to you”. 
You rolled your eyes and removed his clammy hands from your shoulders.
“Well, Hoon you need to finish this to get better. And when you get better you can finally spend time with us”.
He nodded along and seemed satisfied with you; his nose scrunched again as a dimple poked his cheek. He took several bites and finished the first bowl with ease but was reluctant to even begin the second one. 
“I want us to eat it together”.
 He couldn’t meet your eyes. It wasn’t surprising that you couldn’t either. You glanced at the miso soup in your lap, steamy and savoury. The single utensil almost drowned in the broth, awaiting its next commands.
Then thoughts of the boy next to you consumed you, the boy of your dreams, lovesick and quite sick in general. Your lack of response made him fiddle with the loose threads, lip tucked between his teeth. Your heart felt sore in the best way possible, seeing how much he cherished you, and how he desired to do such mundane activities but as a shared couple. A number of beats passed and Sunghoon could hear his heart thump in his ears, head ringing due to another reason now. You heard the faint sound of the boys laughing and yelling over the TV, catching bits of their conversation. 
You slid your hand across the small distance between his legs and yours and instinctually Sunghoon turned his palm upwards to clasp your hand into his. A smile threatened to break on his face, cheeks already hinting upwards. 
“Hoonie, if I get sick, I’ll make sure they go skiing without you and you're locked in this room with me”.
Deep laughter erupted from him and vibrated in his chest. He let go of your hand to cradle your face in his warm hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like you were delicate and made of glass.
He leaned closer and closer until your noses touched, feather-like. You stared into his cinnamon eyes and saw a small reflection of yourself in them until Sunghoon’s lashes met as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to take your breath away. 
Maybe getting sick was worth it, maybe it didn’t matter as long as Sunghoon was by your side, happy, healthy and full of passionate love and vibrant life.
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thank you for reading!
all rights belong to me. please do not translate/edit/copy.
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devildomwriter · 4 months
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Children Listen, To Hear Sleighbells in the Snow | Brothers x Reader
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2.5K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Children
Lucifer x Reader
The house was quiet as you and Lucifer sipped demonous by the fire in his room. He sighed, thankful the season was over and he could just relax with his partner. You leaned your head on your husband’s shoulder and watched the crackling fire.
The peace was interrupted when you heard an ornament fall off the tree. You and Lucifer’s head turned in the direction of the noise and you gave each other a knowing look. Lucifer sighed and offered to handle it but you shook your head and followed him.
You peeked out the door and saw a small foot disappear behind the couch and you giggled and nodded at Lucifer.
You left the room and approached the couch slowly. Lucifer snuck around the other side and snuck up on the child. He grabbed him from behind and the boy let out a small shriek in surprise as you and Lucifer laughed.
He frowned but didn’t protest as his dad held him. “Lucious, why are you still up?” He asked his son. Unlike his father, Lucious was shy and soft-spoken spoken so his answer was barely more than a whisper.
“I’m waiting for Santa…”
Lucifer sighed and shook his head, “he’s not going to come if you’re still awake.”
Lucious’s eyes widened in surprise and looked at you for help, “he’s right, Lulu.” You said sweetly and he frowned and nodded sadly.
“Let’s go back to bed, okay?” Lucifer asked and Lucious clung to him.
“I don’t wanna be alone Christmas…” he said sadly and your heart shattered. Lucifer noticed his son had successfully won you over and sighed.
He supposed you’d had enough demons for the night and he could wait for tomorrow. You followed him back to your bedroom as Lucious bounced excitedly, happy to spend Christmas Eve night with his parents as he waited for Santa to come.
Mammon x Reader
You and Mammon shared a passionate kiss on his couch as a Christmas movie played on the projector. You couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to the movie as Mammon’s hands wandered to your hips and he trailed kisses down your neck.
You let a moan slip but the mood was shattered as you heard a large crash in the living room. You both sprang to your feet and up the stairs out of Mammon’s room.
Mammon looked into the hall cautiously and waved for you to follow. You knew it wasn’t dangerous but you followed along as he stayed close to the wall. You both stepped quietly down the staircase and saw the Christmas tree had fallen and several ornaments had shattered.
“Ah, shit,” Mammon cursed. You left to fetch a broom and he investigated, avoiding the small shards of glass.
As he got closer he heard a nose snuggling and decided what had happened.
“I’m not mad, Ava. Are you okay?” He called and his daughter’s head popped up from behind the living room sofa.
Mammon scratched the back of his head and approached Ava. You came back with the Brook and saw Mammon crouched down talking to your daughter.
“Ava?” You asked and she looked at the ground.
“I-I didn’t mean…” she whispered and Mammon shook his head.
“What matters is you’re okay. Now tell us what ya were doing up so late? Don’t you know Santa won’t come if you’re awake?”
She shook her head frantically. “Vivalion said she saw him once!” She insisted.
“I don’t know what your friend saw but it wasn’t Santa, kay?” Mammon corrected and Ava’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Okay…”
You brushed the glass aside as Mammon picked up your daughter and nodded to you. “Okay, Ava, let’s go to bed. I’ll tell ya a story okay?”
She beamed and nodded, “Okay!” You smiled as your husband carried your daughter off to bed.
As soon as you were both version Ava was asleep in her bed, you picked up where you’d left off and melted into each other’s embrace.
Leviathan x Reader
“Hahaha! Take that!” You cheered as you knocked Levi off the rainbow road.
“What! No!” He yelped and shook his head as he lost the game. “I’ve trained you too well, padawan…” he mumbled and you laughed at him and kissed his cheek.
He blushed and set his controller aside.
Levi looked at the clock, it was close to midnight.
“Should we check if Levy’s asleep so we can set up the gifts?” He asked and you nodded.
You got to your feet and helped him up. He groaned as he stretched, you’d both been sitting there a long time gaming as you waited for Christmas to come.
He covered his mouth as he yawned and you left the room and walked down the long corridor until you reached Levy’s room. Her door was painted the same shade of pink as Ruri Chan’s dress and had stickers of Azuki-tan and friends all over it.
She was definitely her father’s daughter. She took to everything he had so shopping for gifts was very easy. Leviathan was even willing to part with a few beloved collectibles to pass down to his daughter, it made him so proud.
Leviathan slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door without a noise.
You glimpsed the covers being thrown over your daughter’s head and as you entered the room and approached her bed, she let out a fake snore.
You snickered and Levi laughed, “Levy, we know you’re awake,” he revealed and she sighed.
“Aw man,” she sighed and you both laughed again which made her blush.
She clutched her Azuki-tan pillow to her chest and mumbled something under her breath.
“Are you waiting for Santa?” You asked her and she nodded shyly.
You and Levi gave each other a look. “What if he skips our house because you’re not sleeping?” Levi said pretending to be concerned.
Levy looked shocked and gasped. “I-I’ll go to sleep right now! You think he’s going to bring the figurine I wanted if I do?”
You and Levi gave each other a look and Levi grinned, “I know he will.” He promised.
She giggled excitedly and you tucked her into the covers. Levi left the room and you read a story for your daughter until she fell asleep as Levi arranged the gifts under the tree.
Satan x Reader
You and Satan were curled up together on his couch reading a Christmas Carol as gentle music played from your phone. All was peaceful and you nodded off a couple of times, Satan continued to read so you’d missed a few important parts but you already knew the story so didn’t mind.
Just as you neared the end of the story, the grandfather clock began to chime eleven times coinciding with a small “eep” from the living room.
Satan raised a brow and looked at you. You yawned and got off the couch. He placed a bookmark in the story and followed you out the door into the chilly hallway just by the living room.
You saw two tiny feet behind the tree and pointed them out to Satan. He chuckled and walked over to your daughter.
“Kit, what are you doing up still?” He interrogated but she kept quiet.
“You’ve trained her too well,” you said jokingly and he rolled his eyes and reacted behind the tree to tug her out.
The tree nearly fell over as he pulled away and he lifted her up into his arms. He kissed her forehead and brushed his nose against hers.
You joined them and ran your fingers through your daughter’s tangled hair. “Come on, let’s go to bed now.”
She shook her head. “But I need to investigate!” She insisted and Satan rolled his eyes.
“You’re just finding reasons to stay up,” he argued and she stuck out her lip.
“Mommy…” she whined and you shook her head.
“Come on. If Santa comes you’d never know, he has spells of speed and invisibility, isn’t that what you deduced last year?” You reminded and she nodded.
“Yeah,” she said proudly and you smiled and kissed her head.
You headed back to your room and waited for Satan to return. When he did he sighed loudly and you laughed at him, “I bet you regret being so rebellious yourself, don’t you?”
“No, of course not. Lucifer deserves it.”
“This is why you’re on the naughty list…”
Asmodeus x Reader
Asmodeus’s favorite gift on Christmas Day was to spend the night making love with you until the morning hours. But after your girls had gotten a little bigger his deepest wish was much harder.
You’d only just started undressing when you heard two pairs of footsteps running past your door and one shush the other.
Asmodeus looked pissed already, he loved them but why did they have to ruin this one night for him.
“That’s it. I’ve told them Santa isn’t real, why are they still trying to wait up for him?”
“They’re just waiting for the presents,” you said in a hushed tone and ran your fingers through his hair.
He poured and rested his face on your exposed chest. He caressed your sides and looked up at you pleadingly, “Think we can just ignore them?”
There was a loud crash and he sighed. You both quickly dressed yourself and he wiped off a smudge of makeup he’d left on your neck as you headed to the living room.
On the floor trying to hide the smashed cookie plate were your twin girls.
“Ariel. Aria.” Asmodeus said sternly and they jumped to their feet.
Aria played innocent and gave her father an angel’s smile while Ariel put on the waterworks.
He shook his head and glared at them but he was too weak for his princesses, “Ugh! Come on girls. We’re going back to bed, your presents won’t show up if you stay here, remember! If you leave your room again they might disappear,” he warned and Aria gasped while Ariel began fake crying again.
You held Ariel and Asmo took Aria and you walked them back to their pretty pink glittering room and tucked them into their Princess canopy beds. Asmo sang them a lullaby that quickly made them drowsy.
As soon as you were sure they were asleep you rushed back to your own room to pick up where you’d left off. Asmo didn’t have to worry about being interrupted after that.
Beelzebub x Reader
You and Beelzebub were munching on some Yuletide treats and watching a Christmas movie together as the night grew to a close. Soon it would be midnight and Christmas morning. Every Christmas morning since you’d been married you’d start the same, sharing a kiss. Sometimes the kisses became more passionate and sometimes you went back to munching on food.
Today had other plans because you heard a small giggle from outside your door.
Beelzebub hadn’t heard it over his munching so you gently squeezed his arm.
“The boys are up.”
He frowned, “again…”
Ever since they could toddle, they could find their way to the kitchen. They were a handful but you loved them all the same.
Beelzebub eyed the clock, close to midnight. “Let’s hurry before midnight,” he said and nodded. “And we can grab another snack on the way,” he added as his stomach growled.
Together you quietly left to the living room and caught your sons in the middle of investigating the gifts.
They gasped when they saw you and tried to run. Beelzebub dove and caught one by his leg, he picked him up and tucked him under his arm like a football and ran after the fastest of them, “Bennet,” he mumbled under his breath.
Bennet laughed as he was caught and carried over Beel’s shoulder. While Beelzebub wrangled them, you approached your third son, the youngest and shyest of his brothers. He was quiet like his father and afraid he was in trouble. You gently scooped him into your arms and gently cooed in his ear.
His older brothers struggled to free themselves from Beel but it was fruitless. “You’ll never escape me,” Beel said, sounding like a pirate and the two let out fake screams.
“Santa was here!” Benedict exclaimed.
“Can’t we open them now instead?” Bennet pleaded.
Beel looked at you for permission but you shook your head. “What if Santa is still here and hasn’t delivered all the gifts?” You asked in a whisper and they looked at each other, they hadn’t considered that. Considering the triplets were only four, they were quick to scamper into bed when you set them loose. The youngest child, Benjamin had already fallen asleep in your arms so you tucked him into bed as his brothers hid under their covers and tried to fall asleep while so excited.
Beelzebub and you finally were able to leave the room and just as you did you heard the grandfather clock begin to chime.
“Merry Christmas, ___,” Beelzebub said sweetly and leaned in to share a kiss.
“Merry Christmas, Beel.”
Belphegor x Reader
Belphegor couldn’t fall asleep and he wasn’t sure why. It was Christmas morning already and you were sleeping soundly beside him, head on his shoulder.
Belphegor smiled but closer fight the feeling something was off. He listened closely to the sounds in the house.
He heard the ceiling fan, the heater rattling, and the jingling bells.
Jingling bells? He sat up and you stirred awake. You looked up at him groggily and rubbed your eyes. It was unusual for Belphegor to be awake so you knew something must’ve happened.
“Do you…hear bells?” He whispered and you stayed quiet and listened. You heard them too, but it was followed by a tiny laugh and you smiled and sighed.
You swing your feet over the bed, “was that…” Belphegor began to ask and you nodded.
“She found the bells again.”
You left your room and walked to the common room, dimly lit by the lights around the small Christmas tree.
On the floor plated your daughter, shaking the bell stick with her tail and giggling.
“Lily?” Belphie cooed and caught her by surprise.
“Papa!” She exclaimed and toddled over to him.
“Come here sweetie,” he said softly and she handed him the ball stick with her bushy tail, identical to his own.
Belphegor scooped her into his arms and turned back to you. You held onto his arm and you both walked back to your room.
“S-Santa,” she stuttered and you beamed.
“Yes! Good job sweetie,” you praised and Belphegor held her tighter.
“How’s she know about Santa, did we ever tell her?”
You shrugged and walked back to your room. The clock struck three and you sighed, hoping Lily wouldn’t want to get up super early to see what she got.
To ensure she didn’t get up again you tucked her into bed in between yourself and Belphegor and the three of you slept soundly until morning.
431 notes · View notes
rookthorne · 1 year
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞
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You were the warmth and light to Bucky’s shadows and brooding nature — a match made in heaven, and it was a miracle that a certain someone realised as much.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 2.5k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Fluff, mention of alcohol
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✿ My very first grumpy x sunshine fic, and it was hella fun! a huge thank you to all those who listened to me deliberate what the hell to do with it! ✿ A huge thank you to @mxaether for the fact checking and guidance - you were a huge help!
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — Tattoo AU — Masterlist
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𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The anniversary of 107th Ink was always going to be special, and this one perhaps was one of the biggest years – seven whole years since both Bucky and Stevie had walked through those doors with a dream, a dream that had flourished and blown up with their combined talents and charisma. 
In order to celebrate, 107th Ink had announced a surprise flash day. And, as anyone would have expected from the fastest growing tattoo parlour in the area, it was chaos – actually, chaotic was an understatement, and for this very reason, you had parked your car a block away from Bucky’s shop with a box of donuts in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. 
You would be a sight for sore, tired eyes, that was for sure.
Bucky’s Harley was parked on the verge, the shining red paint and reflective chrome shone in the light of the setting sun. The many rides you had taken with Bucky on that very bike came to the forefront of your mind, and you smiled fondly at the memories; the time he had taken you down the back roads for a picnic after you had finally convinced him to put his machine down, or that time that he took you down the highway, resting his hand on yours that had looped tightly around his middle. 
You and Bucky had been friends for years – he was certainly by far the gruffest and honest to god most intimidating man you had ever met, but somehow, he softened around you. Ever since Natasha had introduced you to him, you had felt an instant connection to the infamous brooding vet, and it left the two of you on a path you had no idea how to navigate. It was becoming difficult to ignore the butterflies that crowded your entire being when he flashed you a rare smile, or called you his Sunshine. 
But that was a thought for another day – Bucky needed his Jacks and Stevie would need his donuts, not to mention Nat and Peter squirrelling away what they could of either offering.
And, after your own intense and exhausting day with work and clients, you had to admit, it would be nice to see your friends. 
The door to the shop swung open with a clink of the bell, and you took in the scene. Bucky’s interior design choices screamed Rock’n’Roll with guitars lining the walls, all in various states of artistic liberty of designs and signatures. Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me played quietly over the hustle and bustle, a constant background noise amongst the many conversations held between artists and clients you could only just hear. Soft lighting illuminated the entry and reception where black leather couches were placed cosily – no clients were lazing about so you suspected they were all in the booths. The shining tiled floor reflected the reds of the walls and the mahogany oak accents like it was freshly polished. 
Bucky’s standards of professionalism and cleanliness were high, and hell hath no fury for anyone that compromised them. 
“Hey, Sunshine!” A bright voice called from an open door – Peter’s booth, and you looked over to see the aforementioned excited apprentice poking his head out. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes-” You stifled a laugh, smiling instead. “Bucky is just over there,” Peter said, gesturing towards a closed door. “He’ll be out soon, nervous client.”
“Thanks, Pete,” you said, and he grinned at you and the donuts in your hand before disappearing back into the booth. 
As expected, time passed slowly and you watched while a couple of clients milled out of the booths – Stevie’s, Nat’s and Peter’s. You caught sight of Stevie and Nat occasionally, and they spared you an excited wave or smile when they could – their gazes drifting to the treats you had brought with you. 
The sun had set by the time Bucky’s booth had any sign of movement. His door opened and a timid young woman appeared in the doorway – she was speaking over her shoulder and once she glanced towards the couches, you gave her a soft smile and she walked past you to Peter at the front desk to pay.
Peter greeted her happily and began the process of the transaction, but heavy boot falls in the booth made your gaze snap towards the source, smiling wide at finding Bucky leaning against the frame, arms crossed so his tattoos rippled and moved with the corded muscle. He was staring at you with a blank expression, null and void of any tells, though there was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes that filled your heart and fuelled the butterflies to a dull roar. 
“Hey.”
“Hey, you!” You rushed, getting to your feet just as the young woman left the shop. As soon as she was out the door, there was a collective exhale of breath in relief. “Tough day?”
“What gave it away, Sunny?” Steve groaned as he stood in the doorway of his own booth, rubbing his face and mussing his hair and neatly trimmed beard. “It seemed that flash day means all the tough clients come outta the woods at once.”
“Speak for yourself,” Nat piped up, stretching to the ceiling and cracking her back. The burgundy leather jacket she wore gleamed in the low light while it complemented her creeping neck tattoos. “I had all the sweet ones then.”
“Yeah, because you intimidate the shit out of ‘em, Nat,” Bucky said, a brow raised in challenge. Nat only shrugged, a coy grin on her blood red lips. 
“Today was fun though,” Peter yawned, and you watched as Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes in unison. 
“Trust the apprentice to be all rainbows and shit,” Bucky mumbled. “Let’s close up for the night. I wanna go home.”
Everyone left the reception in favour of returning to their booths, and you followed behind Bucky, bottle of Jacks in hand. The donuts lay on the table amongst the neatly stacked portfolios for later – that’s if Steve and Nat didn’t run off with them before you could walk out the door. 
“How are you feeling, Buck?” You asked, watching as he flexed his left arm and clenched his hand in a fist before releasing it with a wince. “Are you alright?”
Bucky looked over at you and nodded once. “‘M fine, sweetheart,” he said softly while he cleaned up the tray of ink caps and the rest of his station. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m good,” you said, maybe a little too quick, because Bucky’s gaze snapped up and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I’m being honest-”
Slowly, Bucky stepped around from his cart and came to stand right in front of you, his gaze heavy with that critical eye and his habit for problem solving. “No, you’re not, Sunshine.”
Damn it, you cursed in your head, and it must have traitorously flickered across your expression because Bucky hesitated only slightly before his arms suddenly enveloped you and pulled you against his chest. The sudden movement forced a quiet, “oof!” from your lips before you could bite it back – though the feeling of him holding you, as rare as it was, was never unwelcome. 
“I know you like hugs, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his voice just a low rumble in his chest. “Jus’ lemme hold you for a minute, alright?”
Your heart seized and tears burned in the corner of your eyes at his words. Bucky held you so tightly and you were forced to loop your arms around his middle while you rested your cheek on his shoulder – it was indescribable. 
Touch was not something Bucky gave freely – sure, it was his job to touch and manipulate and move clients, but it never meant anything more than him just doing his job. He never initiated a hug to Nat, Steve, or even Peter, it was something entirely off the table for him, though here he was, pushing past what he would normally be comfortable with and initiating such a tender embrace to you.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you mumbled. Bucky squeezed you tight for just a second in reply, and when he relaxed his hold, the vice in your chest had lessened significantly.
“Jus’ wanna take care of my girl, ‘s all,” Bucky said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you stiffened. 
“What?”
“Nothing,” Bucky hastened, his voice suddenly sharp and he pulled away, leaving you standing by the chair, dumbfounded and in shock. “Forget I said anything, let’s get outta here, huh?”
“No, no wait,” you rushed forward, grabbing his arm while you felt your eyes shine with tears – from what: fear, shock, or happiness, you couldn’t tell. “What did you say?”
A long stretch of silence passed before Bucky met your pleading gaze, but he was frowning slightly, as if he was considering every outcome in the blink of an eye. It was unbearable, and you shook his arm slightly, ignoring the way the muscles didn’t budge under your grip. 
“I said I wanted to take care of my girl.”
The tension cracked and split like a whip had cleaved through it, and a heavy breath left your lips. “Your girl?”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding stiffly. 
“Are you-” You tried, but stopped. The sudden dryness in your mouth made it difficult to form the words. “Are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”
Bucky held your stare. “Yes.”
“Oh, my god,” you rushed, and you slammed into his chest to wrap your arms around his middle again – this time he was the one that let out a surprised “oof!” before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 
“Took you fuckin’ long enough!” Steve cried suddenly and you whirled around. Somehow, while engrossed in your panicked train of thought, and Bucky being stuck in his own version of panicking, Steve and Nat had quietly opened the door to eavesdrop. “Nat, you owe me fifty bucks.”
“Dammit,” Nat grumbled before her heels clicked on the floor, the sound muffling the further she walked away. 
The fact that they had placed bets on this didn’t leave you feeling surprised in the slightest, if you were honest – Nat had known something was up, naturally, and she made it a point to stare expectantly whenever you would become flustered by literally anything Bucky did: paying special attention to you, calling you Sunshine, or how he was fiercely protective of you, all of which you found out when you went out to coffee with her. She had snorted and laughed at the obviously hilarious expression of shock upon finding any of that out – you had thought you were subtle, dammit.
Stevie, well, he was Bucky’s best friend – you can only hide so much from the person you were with most, if not all of the working day. It also didn’t help Stevie was a nosy sonofabitch on the best of days. “Can’t make a plan without all the variables, Sunny,” Stevie would say smugly whenever you questioned him, a proud, knowing smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
You glanced up at Bucky to see him burning holes through the door to the back of his friends as they made a hasty retreat – there was no way he was clued in on that little game. 
“Hey, guys, wait up!” Peter yelled as the bell sounded, followed by his rushed footsteps. “See you tomorrow, Boss!” Bucky didn’t reply as the door closed behind Peter and the shop was silent again – just the two of you. 
The slight furrow in his brow and the pensive frown on his lips made your hands grow clammy with nervous sweat; you couldn’t tell what Bucky was thinking, and it was infuriating. 
Minutes stretched by, or seconds, you couldn’t tell – you were trapped in his gaze, lost in the thoughts racing through your mind, did he truly mean what he said?
You startled slightly when Bucky’s hand suddenly cupped your cheek, not having seen him move his arm. “So,” he said slowly. The softening of his eyes made your heart flutter – this was your Bucky, a gentle, soft soul that looked out for you. 
“Bucky?” You whispered. Bucky only hummed quietly, moving his hands to hold both of yours, the cold bite of his rings caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.
“What d’you say, Sunshine?” Bucky asked, still slow and thoughtful, like he was weighing every word. The tension grew to be unbearable and it was all you could do to keep your breathing even, you wished his intense gaze would waver, or he would look away – just for a damned second.
You licked your lips, shuffling your feet on the spot. “That depends on what you’re as-”
“Be my girl?”
Time stopped. Your heart stopped, ceasing its pounding rhythm for a millisecond before kick-starting thunderously. Sure, he had called you his girl more than once, but hearing him ask if you would be? You prayed to whoever would listen above that you would survive this, for you were floating on cloud nine and you did not want to come back down. 
“I-I,” you stumbled, growing even more flustered at the glint in his eyes – you couldn’t tell what he was feeling but you felt pinned, in the best possible way. “Yeah, yeah I want to be your Sunshine, Buck-”
Your stomach swooped at the sudden and entirely unexpected feeling of his lips on yours, and his hands – god, his hands, one moved to hold the side of your throat, the other cupped your face. He set the pace easily and you eagerly followed, you had been craving this for so long that it was almost unbelievable. 
To make doubly sure you weren’t dreaming, more than the desire to touch him, you ran your hands up his arms to rest them on his broad shoulders and you felt him smile into the kiss. “It’s real, sweetheart, ‘m here,” Bucky said against your lips, and you sighed happily. 
The warm smile Bucky gave you as he pulled away made you miss his touch, even though he had only taken a single step away. “I’ll finish cleanin’ up and then we can get outta here, we have a lot to celebrate, Sunshine, don’t we?”
The butterflies in your stomach became a frenzy at his words, and you nodded shyly. “They’re going to lose their minds, aren’t they?” You mused, sitting on the rolling stool while you waited for him to finish up. “Nat and the guys, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, zipping up his case. “Yeah, they will, the bastards. Bettin’ on their fuckin’ boss, I oughta fire all of ‘em.” You laughed heartily and Bucky smirked. 
Once Bucky’s station had been tidied and cleaned for the next day, he reached a hand out and you accepted it happily. “Let’s get outta here, I gotta treat my girl to a nice night, huh?”
“Only if we take your bike,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s hand and he looked over at you curiously. “I want to fly.”
Bucky only chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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sidekick-hero · 2 months
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(steddie | teen | 2.5k | tags: different first meeting, emotional hurt/comfort | summary: What happens when Steve meets Eddie Munson, who has just failed his senior year for the first time, during one of his nightly drives? | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is asking, "do you want a blanket?" by @thefreakandthehair | AO3)
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Steve's life was completely turned upside down (theoretically he sees the humor in this, but in practice the trauma trumps the pun) six months and six days ago when he came face-to-face with a honest-to-God inter-dimensional monster and barely survived to not tell the tale thanks to an airtight and frankly scary NDA.
He should be over it by now, right? He shouldn't be waking up screaming, drenched in his own sweat and shaking all over, his heart racing in his chest and his stomach in his throat.
Right.
Well, he's not. He doesn't get over it. The nightmares don't go away. If anything, he feels like they're getting worse, his mind adding horrible details and things that didn't happen, but could have, to keep torturing him.
He's a fucking mess.
Steve Harrington is a mess. His grades are slipping, on their way to joining his social status at rock bottom, and even his performance as co-captain of the swim team and basketball team is suffering from lack of sleep.
The only thing he has going for him is Nancy. Nancy, who doesn't understand that Steve just wants to get over the horror and the paranoia, just wants his life back, just wants to be normal again.
She doesn't say it outright, but he knows she thinks he's selfish, too self-centered to care about anything but himself. Sure, he's made amends with Jonathan and cut ties with Tommy and Carol, but deep down, Nancy doesn't think he's changed all that much. He's not Jonathan, he's not mature and monosyllabic and introspective. Just dumb little Steve, pretty to look at but not much else to offer.
These are the things he ponders during his late-night drives when another nightmare keeps him awake. It's impossible to fall asleep with terror pumping through his veins, so instead he climbs into his car and just drives. Some nights he will drive for hours, music playing softly from one of his tapes, Queen, Springsteen, Tears For Fears, Bon Jovi.
Tonight his drive takes him to the edge of town, right where a dirt road leads to the quarry. Steve has no idea why, but something makes him actually leave the main road and turn onto it. He follows it where it leads into the woods, slowing down on the bumpy road until he sees the dense cluster of trees open up to reveal a glimpse of the starry night sky. The path seems to open up into a clearing, and just there, to the right, Steve spots an old van.
He knows the car, has seen it often enough in the parking lot of Hawkins High to know that it belongs to none other than Eddie Munson, local drug dealer and freak.
At least that's what everyone keeps calling him, and sure, the guy seems a little weird, with his speeches on cafeteria tables, his dramatic antics in and out of class. He certainly doesn't look like most of the other kids, with his ripped jeans (clearly from wear and tear rather than fashion sense), long, unruly curls, and loud shirts advertising bands Steve has never heard of. People also shit on him for his father and for living in a trailer park, but none of that sounds particularly freaky to Steve.
Knowing what he does now, though, it worries him to think of Munson all alone out here where anything could happen to him. He doesn't know Munson, just about him, but Steve couldn't live with himself if he came to school on Monday and found Munson missing. One person has already died because of his carelessness, and no one deserves to suffer the same fate as Nancy's friend Barb.
Parking his car right next to Munson's, Steve climbs out and walks around the car to the trunk to pick up the nail bat that saved his life and the lives of Nancy and Jonathan. Then he makes his way to the opening of the clearing ahead.
Stepping out of the trees, Steve stops to take in the sight before him.
Above him stretches the inky expanse of the night sky, a seemingly endless void painted with a myriad of distant stars. The moonlight danced along the jagged edges of the quarry, revealing the vastness of the rocky landscape below in a silvery glow. The only sound that broke the silence of the night was the occasional soft rustle of leaves. The air was crisp and clean, carrying with it a hint of earthiness from the rocky terrain. In this secluded enclave, far from the lights of the city, the stars were front and center, and Steve felt unbelievably small.
With his shoulders hunched over his ears and his arms slung protectively around his knees, the figure sitting on the edge of the cliff looks even smaller than he feels.
It seems that Munson didn't even hear his car approaching, and that makes Steve's hair stand on end because it means that anyone, anything could have snuck up on him. It's not safe.
Steve approaches cautiously, trying his best not to startle the other boy and cause him to fall to his certain death.
"Munson?" He asks softly, quietly, but to no avail. It still causes Munson to flail in surprise, and only Steve's quick reflexes keep him from falling over the edge. With his knees still smarting from the sudden drop to the ground, Steve has his arm wrapped around the other boy, and both of them are panting from the shock.
"Fuck, man, are you trying to kill me?" Munson's voice quavers too much to be truly biting.
Steve carefully loosens his grip on Munson and leans back to sit on his haunches. Running a slightly trembling hand through his hair, he can't help but bite back. "If you paid more attention to what was going on around you, you would have heard me coming. I wasn't really trying to be subtle. It's like you want to get killed."
Munson scoots away from the edge of the cliff and climbs to his feet to look down at Steve and the nail bat he dropped when he made a grab for the other boy. He raises a judgmental eyebrow, causing Steve's defenses to go up in an instant.
They look at each other, brown meeting hazel, until Munson breaks the silence. "By someone walking around with a nail-studded bat, you mean?"
"I wasn't going to hit you with it!" And crap, abort Harrington, abort.
Now both eyebrows look at him questioningly. "And who, pray tell, pissed off King Steve enough to deserve this kind of treatment?"
"No one! For God's sake, I thought you might be in danger and wanted to be prepared in case you were." Then he adds, "After what happened to Will Byers and Barbara Holland, you'd think people in this town would be more careful instead of hanging out in the woods in the middle of the night."
Ed-No, Munson's eyes soften at his explanation. "Shit, sorry man. You're right, I guess." Shuffling his feet, he offers his own explanation for his harsh reaction. "Just had a shitty day, I guess. I shouldn't have bitten your head off for trying to look out for me. Although I never thought King Steve would ride in on his white horse to save the school freak from unimaginable evil."
"White horse? What, like a knight? Does that make you the damsel in distress, Munson?"
Munson gets a strange look on his face at Steve's words, and before he knows what's happening, the guy pretends to faint right into his arms. He catches him just before he hits the ground and feels how cold the boy's body is in his thin t-shirt. "My savior," Munson croons, and Steve rolls his eyes at his antics. Still not a freak, but definitely weird.
Instead of dignifying this with an answer, Steve says, "You're freezing, man. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night anyway?"
Dark brown eyes search his, and Steve thinks he's never seen such expressive eyes. He can read a myriad of emotions in them and he doesn't even know the guy. Sadness, caution, defeat, and something he's seen in the mirror a lot in the last few months: fear.
"I bet you have better things to do than listen to my sad little problems. Can't imagine you're just running around town rescuing damsels in distress now, I'm sure you have places to be, a kingdom to rule..."
"Could you just drop the whole 'King Steve' crap, man? I'm not him. Not anymore. Even if nobody seems to have gotten the memo."
"Okay, woah, sorry, man. I didn't know this was such a touchy subject."
"Do you want me to call you a freak and make assumptions about you based solely on high school gossip?"
"I don't know, don't you?"
"I'm trying not to. You don't have to tell me what's going on if you don't want to. I'm just saying... I know what it's like when you can't stand lying in your bed staring at the ceiling any longer. Wanting to get out and leave whatever it is that's bothering you behind, but no matter how fast you drive, it keeps catching up with you."
He's rambling, he knows he is, he didn't plan on unburdening his heart to Eddie Munson of all people, but here they are.
"I failed senior year." Eddie finally admits in a small voice, not meeting Steve's eyes.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Fuck, man. That sucks. Can you repeat it?"
"Sure. But I... God, everyone was right all along. I'm a failure, a fuckup. Just like my dad. A good-for-nothing waste of space. I haven't even told Wayne, I can't stand the look in his eyes when I tell him". There are tears in Eddie's eyes and Steve's heart breaks for him.
"Fuck!" Eddie shouts across the quarry and a flock of birds takes flight somewhere in the nearby woods. He's shaking again, and this time it's not from the adrenaline. Steve can't really take away any of the things that are weighing on Eddie, but he can offer him something else.
"Do you want a blanket?"
Eddie's doe eyes blink at him slowly, as if he's not sure he heard him right.
"You're only wearing a T-shirt, you must be cold." Eddie doesn't deny it. "Let me get you a blanket, then."
Another slow blink, and then, "If you're...sure?"
Steve gives him a smile that he hopes is warm and reassuring. "I'm sure." He walks over to his BMW and takes the nail bat with him, exchanging it for the blanket that he keeps in the trunk of his car at all times. Tommy H. calls it the "baby maker blanket," which is so typical of Tommy that Steve wonders why he was hanging out with him at all. Maybe because he was a friend to Steve when no one else would be.
But maybe he won't tell Eddie about the blanket's history. Anyway, it's freshly washed and smells only of his detergent.
Handing it to the boy, Steve says, "There you go," before turning to walk back to his car.
"Where are you going?"
When Steve turns back, Eddie is sitting on the ground with the blanket around his shoulder, one end held open as if inviting Steve to join him.
"Back home?" It's not supposed to sound like a question, but some of his reluctance to leave seeps into it anyway. He doesn't want to go home to his empty house and bed, afraid to close his eyes in case the nightmares come back.
"Look, you don't have to, of course, but if you want, you can stay and tell me what brought you here in the middle of the night. Or not. We could just sit here in silence, totally fine with me."
Steve snorts, because even though this is the first time he's had a conversation with Eddie, he can already tell that silence doesn't come easy to him.
"If you're sure," he repeats Eddie's words back to him as he makes his way over to him.
"I'm sure," Eddie says firmly, wrapping the blanket around Steve as soon as he sits down next to him.
Many things surprised Steve that night, but most of all how comfortable the silence between him and Eddie had felt as they watched the stars until they gave way to the rising sun.
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They never talked about that night again, the polite nods in the halls all the acknowledgment they allowed for what had happened.
But when Steve walks across the stage to receive his diploma in 1985, he notices Eddie's absence and his heart aches for him. He had been looking forward to seeing Eddie walk across the stage next to him, to give him a smile, a wink. Maybe even ask him out for a celebratory beer, if he's being completely honest with himself.
The sad truth is: Steve had no one to spend his graduation with, no girlfriend, no friends, just a 13-year-old know-it-all whose bedtime didn't really allow for any kind of grown-up celebration. Eddie was his only hope of not being alone tonight.
That's probably why he's heading out to the quarry again that night, bat and blanket in tow.
It's a shot in the dark, and at the same time it's not. Because there Eddie is, sitting on the edge again, small and defeated, and just as alone as Steve. Without a word, Steve joins him on the ground and wraps the blanket around them both.
"I'm sorry."
Eddie's warm weight settles against him. "Me too." Silence falls between them, and Steve thinks that's all they'll say, but then Eddie nudges his shoulder with his own and says, "I'm sorry, too. About Wheeler."
"Me too."
Steve thinks that even if he's not a poet, there's something symbolic in the way they both watch the sun rise again over the quarry.
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The next time he wrapped the blanket around Eddie, it was again in the middle of the night. Only this time, Eddie is unconscious in the back of his car while Steve races to the hospital, praying to any God who will listen that this will not be the last time.
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It isn't. Not by a long shot. Getting the blood out is not easy, but with Joyce's help he manages. The blanket is there when physical therapy is especially grueling, when they both sit on the porch of Eddie's new trailer, Steve holding Eddie under the blanket's protective cover.
It's there when Steve moves in with the Munsons and gets a special place on Eddie's bed, though they never make love on it. The blood was hard enough to get out, and the material doesn't look like it can take much more deep cleaning.
They take it with them when they move to their apartment in Chicago, and it's there for every bad day either of them has.
Their blanket finds its final purpose, however, with the arrival of their daughter, April. From the day their little bundle of joy moves in with them, she sleeps wrapped in the foundation of Steve and Eddie's love.
Steve may not be a poet, that's Eddie's job, but he appreciates the symbolism all the same.
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