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kiwisbell · 5 months

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Candy Girl [joel miller]

The before and after. Or, Joel fucks his friend's daughter for the first time.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ [mdni]

tags/warnings: daddy kink, baker!reader, age gap (20s/40s), (sort of) dbf!joel, daddy dom!joel, soft!joel, angst, self-loathing, waxing poetic about eating pussy, unprotected piv (wrap that shit up like a pastry), creampie, cream pies, dirty talk, pet names, forbidden romance, tw for occasional stylistic omission of quotation marks, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: ~ 6k

read on ao3!

a/n: hi, all!! please, as always, mind the tags for this fic - it's quite a departure from what i typically write, but daddy joel has set up shop in my brain and he won't leave. if this isn't for you, that's cool - you don't have to read it. i hope you'll be kind, and as always, i hope you enjoy!! xoxo

thank you HUGELY to my dear mya @cavillscurls for the absolutely stunning moodboard!!! i love you and i'm obsessed with you and you're crazy talented 🫶 and thank you endlessly to my parents sam and el @tieronecrush and @northernbluess for being AMAZING betas and always supporting me and my silly fics!!

CANDY GIRL

What have I done, he thinks, parting your dewy folds with two fingers and sliding his tongue through the glistening mess between your thighs, to deserve this?

He certainly can’t think of some good-enough deed to warrant him being here, tucked warmly in this apex, kindling a fire, rubbing his hands over the red of the flame, breathing sighs and gasps and groans into the sweet-smelling flesh of your thighs as if he were destined to arrive here. As if it were a mere quirk of fate, and now everything is gently settling into motion.

Your fingers are curled in his hair and your chest—bare, smattered with a faint sheen of sweat and reflecting moonlight, illicit—is heaving. You have no instinct to steer him. Your hand knows no guiding push or pull. Your back is bowing off the mattress and your mouth is emitting needy little whines and whimpers and pleas for mercy, more, please, Daddy.

And he’s acquiescing, toppling slowly into that heady pull of sticky wet warmth between your thighs, and all he can think is that you smell like cherries.

And you are messy. Fuck, you’re dripping onto his chin as he licks through you, languishing in the prickling taste as if he's guiding his tongue along the salt rim of a glass. His fingers absently dimple your thighs, bruising, forcing them to fall open, part wider, for him.

Let me in, baby girl.

Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. My pretty girl.

So goddamn beautiful like this.

You just relax, baby, and let me in. C’mon, now.

You obey every muffled order like it’s law, letting him shoulder his way between your legs, his hand pressing firm on your belly, pinning you. The answering mewl he hears from your parted lips is the sweet slide of your strawberry icing along his taste buds. He buries his tongue between your wet folds and holds you tighter, dizzied with the smell and the taste and the feel of finally taking what he wants. What you've given him.

Joel licks self-indulgently through your slit until your pretty cunt is slathered in his spit and glistens with your own juices. When he sees your clit, puffy and fucking needy and shining at him like a goddamn pearl, he licks his lips.

Look at her. She’s fuckin’ cryin’ for me, baby girl. You need your Daddy to kiss it better?

You whine, grasping his locks, still never quite urging or pushing, but begging: Daddy, I’ll do anything. Please, I’ll do anything.

Shh, sweetheart. Don’t have to do anything. Just keep ‘em open for me. I’ll make it good. Hear me?

A frantic nod. A reflexive squeeze of the hand on your belly. Eyes, watery and butter-soft in the darkness—wrong, risk—meet his own.

Yes, Daddy.

It didn't begin this way.

Some of the edges are blurred with time. He vaguely recalls the time before you—mornings alone at the breakfast table, intermittent calls to Sarah all the way in College Station, long days on the job site because he had nothing else to come home to—and he’s bitter. It tastes nothing like the after: strawberry icing, vanilla perfume, cherries.

It must have begun when Chris slapped him on the back after the scaffolding on the Queen Street job was taken down and said, “Couple of us are grabbing coffees at the Morning Star. You should come along, man. Get outta the house.”

The Morning Star. A slightly weathered pink awning and a varnished oak interior, a couple small tables (occupied), a flurry of activity in front of and behind the counter. A glass display case brimming with cakes and croissants and macarons. Glass vases filled with pink roses whose stems have been neatly trimmed. A pretty girl working behind the counter, tending to customers with an irradiating smile, a tender hand, the blinding glint of a bracelet, a pair of earrings, glowing.

“What can I get for you this morning?” you asked him, like it was some secret spilling from the torso, a heart lurching from its cage, spread out on the ground.

Petal-pink flowers painted on your fingernails. The aching attentiveness of your stare. Ekphrastic turns of phrases pasted to the wall behind the counter, in the form of a mural, crowd-sourced poems and letters and works of art. Lived-in, loved. The smell of cherries as you approached.

And then it was Chris, clapping Joel on the shoulder, a jolt of good-natured violence turning to torrent as he said, “The usual for me, honey.”

It's been wrong since that moment. Maybe it's been wrong all along. That doesn't stop him from ending up here. And it doesn't stop you from following.

On your back, in Joel’s bed, your legs spread wide to accommodate his broad shoulders, welcoming the face-warming intrusion of his mouth between your slick folds. Bold in the way you curl your pretty polished fingers in his greying locks—he’s too old, much too old for you—and receptive in your soft moans and your uttered hexes of yesyesyes.

Bewitched, he flattens his tongue against your pulsing clit and latches his lips around it, his eyes fixed on the way your head falls back, the length of your throat exposed, the evidence of your beating heart laid bare for him in the tremble of your pulse.

He sucks on your clit until your legs begin to shake, and it’s the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his shoulders, the way you reflexively kick his back with your heel. But he’s pulling away, crushing his nose in the flesh of your thigh, nipping your soft skin, and the cry that leaves your mouth carves a tremor down his spine.

Your tight little hole flutters with the need to be filled, to take him inside you, to make him wholly yours, the way he already is, the way you can never know.

So he slides his tongue over your clit and lathers you in his spit and digs his fingertips into your thighs as if he owns you—because he never can.

The flickering burn of regret and shame soothes when he's between your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you come so hard that you weep—leg kicking out, shackled by a firm hand around your ankle, back arching, fingers grasping, flexing, at whatever you can touch. You pour into him, molten gold, recast in his likeness, and he doesn't deserve this but he will take it.

Instinctively, he pushes deeper, lapping your release from your messy hole, his nose pressed against your oversensitive clit—and he can’t resist, has never been able to, gently coaxing you through it, Poor baby, so goddamn needy for Daddy, sweetheart. Taste so fuckin’ sweet.

You’re whining, finally pushing at his head as the pleasure notches too high, and he presses a soft kiss to your clit before dragging his lips up your belly, between your tits, pulling you upright to sit you in his lap. You grin lazily and drop your forehead against his.

Fuck, he's so proud. He smooths his hand down the crown of your head and skates his fingers down your sweat-slick spine.

You tired, baby?

You nod, and he nips at your pouting bottom lip.

Hmm, but you ain't a quitter. You can give me another, can't you? You wanna be good for me.

He whispers it all against the curve of your throat, into your collarbones, fitting his rough palm against your lower back and pulling your body flush to his. He sweats through all his layers and bleeds his warmth into you, but you don't care, grinding down on his lap, sliding your wet pussy along the hard length in his jeans.

Your hand is slippery at the back of his neck and your eyes are lidded, sleepy, near-black, as you take what you need because you're a greedy girl when it comes down to it, and he's holding your bloody beating heart in his palms.

I’ll be so good, Daddy.

He knows. God, he knows—his lips find your temple, hair matted with sweat, and he can feel your tits pressing up against his chest, the erratic melody your heart sings to him, for him, through him. And he doesn’t deserve this.

Gonna need to take me out, baby girl. Go on, now.

You scramble, reaching between your bodies and unbuttoning his jeans, your hand teasing down the waistband of his boxers. Joel groans when you squeeze him, his teeth catching on your earlobe, nibbling from your jaw to your chin. He watches your manicured hand with its pretty pink polish wrap snugly around the base of his cock—you give him a firm, slow stroke, and he curses at the sight of your oh-so eager gaze.

Shit, baby. You're grinding your hips, smearing your wetness along his length, and he kneads your hip like dough while you grasp his shoulder, your head lolling. He bares his teeth, growling and snapping like a dog at the hot, slick slide of your cunt, his eyes a pendulum between the joining of your bodies and the heavy gaze you give him. That’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, take what you need.

Your legs are trembling, too weak to hold yourself upright, and he knows, as always, exactly what it is you want.

You’ve always been spoiled, because he’s let it happen.

“Just a coffee,” he said, his third consecutive day in the Morning Star. “Please.”

He felt the twist of your lips in his ribcage. “I promise we have more than just coffee.”

“‘s good coffee,” he said. “Why spoil a good thing?”

He liked your pale pink hat and apron and the colour of your nails. He liked the way you feathered your fingertips over the till while you waited patiently for orders, the way you dealt so kindly with indecisiveness, the way your heart-shaped pendant glimmered when the sun dipped low in the western sky.

He only knows it glows like that because you let him stay one night, long after close, to fix the hinge on the front door.

He’d known the Morning Star for a month. He knew it better than he knew you.

“You don’t have to do this, Joel.”

An anxious shifting of your weight from one foot to the other, an intermittent four-fingered tap of your nails on the countertop, a soft weariness blurring the edges of your irises, as you tried to tell him you were fine, you could call your dad in the morning, please don’t worry about me.

The gentle in-and-out of your chest as you breathed, the golden near-evening light trickling the sun into the whites of your eyes, where it belonged. When you inhaled, he exhaled, the rhythmic pulse of life dancing between you, twirling carelessly on the edge of something neither of you could explain.

“I wanna help,” he said. “And you should let me.”

You sighed, little of the charging bull and more of the huffing kitten, and his stomach lurched painfully. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to rest his hand at the crown of your head, soothe the tension in your shoulders with a measured press of his fingertips, unearth the blood-flecked bones that heralded emotions he could not yet name. Later, he would know them intimately; later, he would set his teeth in the white marrow and lick the blood from his chops.

He wanted to ask all of his questions with his fingers, not his mouth, let you answer them the way you saw fit, giving that silent, haptic space the power it needed to pry open the parts of your life he could only guess at.

But he did not touch you.

Then, a time firmly lodged in the hazy somewhere of before-and-after, he could only pretend. And he could fix the door.

Now, he’s gazing in disbelief at the way your tight little hole wrenches open around the weeping tip of his heavy cock, his sweaty body sliding along yours as you hastily shove the buttons of his flannel out of their slits and shuck off his shirt. Skin-to-skin, he feels your pulse ever stronger, licking and sucking at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His palm is flat between your shoulder blades as he eases you open, helping you take his big cock.

Daddy…

I know, baby girl, I know. Just a little more. That’s it—keep holdin’ onto me, baby.

Petting you like a domesticated cat, fitting his fingers in the grooves between your ribs, feeling his own heartbeat settle into the rhythm of yours. You grasp his shoulder, the nape of his neck, your lips parting against his forehead, pressing feverish kisses to the space where his greying curls stick to his skin.

You can take me, sweet girl. My baby. So good for me—

—the way you always have been.

“When my mom left, she gave the bakery to me.” Guiding the pink icing onto the small fluffy cakes, you moved seamlessly. Second nature, like laying mortar and brick. Your hands were speckled with flour and frosting.

The vanilla cupcakes, robed in white paper, were a commission for a young girl’s sixth birthday. “Pink was Sarah’s favourite, too,” he’d said when he walked in that morning—perhaps too needy for a reason to connect. Blindly tossing a fishing line into a murky lake.

But you still glowed when you had beamed up at him: “And now? She still a pink lover?”

“Haven't asked in a while,” he’d said, “but I’d reckon so.”

“She’s smart.” You had slid the black coffee across the counter and placed a cupcake next to it. Joel frowned.

“What's this?”

You had lifted your brows, your eyes telegraphing a challenge. He had sunk neck-deep into your emboldened gaze. “This is a cupcake.”

“Smartass,” he’d huffed. “You got a reason for givin’ me a cupcake?”

You’d gently pushed them closer to him and given him that blinding, tempting grin, and how could he ever hope to decline you when you looked at him like that?

“I value your opinion, Joel,” you’d told him, “and if you don’t eat it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

He'd taken the cupcake and sunk his teeth into its pillowy flesh right there in front of you.

“And your dad?” asked Joel, on his knees under the counter, replacing the latch on the display door’s hinge. “He help you out a lot?”

An intrusive figure, playing unwitting God in the budding flower bed, picking petals before they were dead. He would always inflate the distance between you, assert his right to decide who you wanted, dated, fucked—he would always be Joel’s judge and jury.

The executioner’s axe he’d take up himself.

You topped off a row of cupcakes with little candied cherries. “He couldn't afford to quit, so I’m running the place. So much for school.”

Joel didn't like that. He didn’t like the way you let it all slide gently down your spine. There was a quiet defiance in the way you spoke—some simmering anger you buried deep in the earth where the colours weren't bright and your heart wasn't so naked. He could feel its veins as if holding it in his palm, the gentle ba-dum, ba-dum of a vulnerable organ so acquainted with disappointment.

“What do you want to study?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Never got the chance to think about it.”

Never got the chance to find yourself. To learn. To grow. You had simply stepped into another’s body, a ghost, occupied endlessly with the next task and the next and then one more. You should've been spending your early twenties partying and studying and crying your eyes out over idiot boys who didn’t know how good they had it. You shouldn't have to be here, decorating cupcakes for a six-year-old while some old man fixed yet another broken hinge, latch, bulb.

“I became a dad pretty young,” said Joel. “Thought I was gonna lose my whole life, all my opportunities, not that I had any.”

He did not deserve the empathetic shimmer in your waterline. “Joel, that's not true—”

“But,” he said with a faint groan as he rose, “I got to make a life of my own, with my kid, and I was happy.”

“You were happy?” you said wearily. “You aren't anymore?”

“I’m…”

He caught your eye and felt the plates far beneath his feet dislodge. Quantum shift. You held his gaze as if you were waiting for some truth to crawl from his sockets—like he was your answer. And Joel did not know what to do with that, but if you would keep looking at him this way, he would tell you any false truths you wanted to hear.

“I’m lonely,” he said at last. Joel reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. A shiver coursed through your heart which lay in his palm, warm crimson blood trickling down his wrists. “And you shouldn't have to be. You’ve got so much life ahead of you, sweetheart.”

Some glacial melt keeled the weight of your head toward him, and your cheek was resting in the pool of his palm. Joel did not care for the hand of God whose fingers would inevitably squeeze the life from whatever this was. The jigsaw fit of your bodies felt so right in this incomprehensible sliver between before and after.

“You're not old, Joel,” you said softly.

“Too old for you.”

He didn't know why he said it, but it made you smile.

“You keep lying to me, Mr. Miller, and I’m not going to trust you anymore.” A wry twist of your lips. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Is this flirting? he thought to himself, so fucking out of practice that the concept felt altogether foreign. But you were giving him that foxlike look and his hand was still cupping your cheek and he could feel the flutter of your pulse, and he didn’t want to stop.

“No, baby. I don’t want that.”

Flesh meets flesh. Your hips drop, and you’re sitting so prettily on his cock, the whole of him buried inside you, stretching your capacities, shifting the dichotomy of right and wrong. He stares up at you—lips parted, eyes lidded, heart beating JoelJoelJoel—and pleasure pinballs down each knob of his spine. He’s locked in the tidal push-and-pull with your body, gravity sucking him into you, or sucking you down onto him. It doesn't matter.

This is the after, and you're drunkenly nudging his nose with yours, trying to kiss him, and he's taking you. Running with the diamond. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, tasting cherries and frosting and giving you a piece of what he's already taken from you. You're sighing and moaning and greedily opening your mouth into him to swallow down your own taste.

His hand slides up your spine to the sticky nape of your neck as he presses you to him, joined by every joint, every pound of flesh.

And when he begins to move, to grind up into you and draw gooey, cloying gasps from your mouth, Joel thinks he briefly sees white.

Jesus. Been waitin’ so goddamn long for this. You're so fuckin’ soft, baby girl. So fuckin’ beautiful.

His teeth in your throat, around your earlobe, scraping your jaw, pleasure pinching, recapitulating, recovering only to start again. Your name on his tongue, passing from his mouth to yours, the anchor of your hand around his neck, the other on his shoulder, reciprocal re-stabilising.

He needs you just as much as you need him, and he shows you in the way he pulls you firmly to him, because he cannot bring himself to whisper it into the barely-there space between your bodies.

“Joel, I’m sorry to call you so early, but I’m out of options, and the party starts in two hours, and my delivery guy flaked, and—”

“Honey, slow down. Lemme wake up, okay? I’m comin’ to you.”

“Oh, God, just forget I said anything. Go back to sleep. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He still remembers the break in your voice, the fragile warble of your resolve cleaving down the middle. He remembers the sting in his own chest like it was his wound, not yours. He was awake before the sun began to climb.

You had to personally drive the cake you’d made for a ten-year-old’s birthday party all the way across town now that your delivery service had fallen through. You didn’t even have a car; you took the bus everywhere, which Joel had chewed his tongue to pieces over for months. Things could happen in the dark. Public transport was no different. But your own father didn’t seem to take issue with it, so how could Joel?

“Don’t say a word,” he told you when you hopped up into his truck and opened your mouth to apologise. “I don’t mind. You know damn well I don’t mind.”

“You should mind,” you said, instinctively picking a piece of lint from his flannel with that miserable little pout on your face. “All I’ve ever done is ask you for things.”

“And if I like doin’ things for you?”

“Then I’ll put you on my payroll,” you countered.

Joel shook his head fondly. You cleaned when you were anxious; grooming and picking at him like a monkey should not have surprised him. “Well, I got a birthday comin’ up, if you wanna thank me.”

“Yeah?” You bit your lip and some of the heaviness sitting on your shoulders lifted, the promise of getting to repay him for his altruism at last eliciting the smile he wanted. “What would you like?”

You take me so well, baby girl. Goddamn meant for me.

The hot, wet slide of your cunt up and down the length of his steel-hard cock has him doubling over, mouthing sloppily at your tits, sucking and nibbling on your stiff nipples as you cry and whimper: Oh, Daddy, please… fuck, that feels… I can’t—

He’s blinking hard to squeeze the bleeding edges of fantasy away—because this is real, and he cannot know if he will ever have this again. I know you can. You can take me.

A nod, frantic and sick with desire, slips against his temple. I can take it. Please—let me be your good girl. I’m good, good for you.

I know you are, baby girl. So good for Daddy.

“Joel!”

He had never heard his own name infused with such thrill. It settled in the pool of his gut and oozed out past his ribs.

You beckoned him to the counter and placed a steaming mug between the pair of you. The umber liquid sloshed gently in the cup. “It’s a macchiato. And don’t worry”—you caught him before the gash between his brows could deepen worriedly—“it’s nothing like that sugar heap you'll get at a Starbucks. Two shots of espresso, balanced with the milk foam.”

Joel tried to smile, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Milk… foam.”

“I know you're a coffee purist, Joel, but hear me out.” You scurried to the large black boards on the back wall and flipped one over to reveal the bright white writing—stark, vibrant, a proclamation you should’ve had no business making, not when it was so bold as this.

NEW, it read in a pretty, looping font. THE MILLER.

His heart leapt to his throat. And there you were, gesturing to the board with his name—Joel’s name—on it, and he was lifting the confounding liquid to his lips.

Some of the foam accumulated in his moustache as he tentatively sipped and rolled the flavour over his tongue. It wasn't… bad. Not at all. A little too sweet where he preferred the bitter drag of a dark roast. A few too many frills. But—

“It’s good,” he said. Your answering smile decided it for him. He would never go back to black coffee.

Fuck, baby, that's it. Keep on ridin’ me just like that. Oh, Jesus—

The slow, rhythmic slap of your thighs against his as you lock your arms around his neck and lift yourself up and down on his dick. Your head lolling around your shoulders, your brows drawn up in the middle. The squelch of your creamy cunt as you take him to the hilt and bring your hips down in measured, grinding motions.

You’re getting yourself off, too, your clit rubbing against the hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel groans, Fuckin’ hell. Christ, that’s good. That’s it, that’s—

“Think I’m gettin’ fat on all these sweets, baby.”

He’d begun to come into the bakery on Saturday mornings, too, even though he didn’t work. With Sarah no longer in Austin and a dreadfully empty house whose groans and creaks only kept him up all hours, he had little to do but work, maintain the lawns, and, well…

Sat together at the table by the window, you shared a leftover slice of rich cherry pie. The awning outside fluttered gently in the breeze, cutlery and ceramic softly colliding as folks indulged in your treats. You beamed at Joel and reached out to swipe some foamed milk from his moustache.

“I like you this way,” you said, your thumb coasting along his jawline, your eyes like jewels. The pendant on your throat dipped as you swallowed, settling in the hollow like a perching bird.

Joel, white-knuckling his fork, felt his cock grow hard in his boxers, a heavy weight against his leg. The rapid shuttering of your eyes left him feeling inexplicably panicked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“No,” said Joel, his hand covering your knee beneath the table. You were wearing a little skirt that day. The silky fabric shifted under the coarse texture of the pads of his fingers and he wondered if the softness would be akin to the flesh of your thighs, your belly, your tits (sitting so pretty in that plain T-shirt: pink, of course). “No, you didn’t… You know I…”

And what could he say?

You know I’ve wanted to slip my hand down each one of those pretty skirts you wear since the first day I saw you. You know I take my cock in my hand and jerk off in the shower and I picture your lips around it. You know you’ve fucking infected me. You know I’m poisoned. You know I ain’t good enough. Youknowyouknowyouknow I can never have you.

“Joel, man, I’ve been calling your cell.”

His hand smacked the underside of the table in its hasty retreat as Chris rounded the corner and clapped Joel on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You mind if I have a bite?”

And because you were so goddamn sweet, because you were a smart girl and knew how to play it cool, you gave your father your fork with a big smile and said, “All yours. I should get back. Thanks for the taste test, Joel.”

Chris easily occupied your seat at the table and Joel, adjusting his pants discreetly, was struck by how wrong this had been. To sit with you, sharing a pie, touching, wanting—

He was fucked. And he didn’t care. He only wanted more.

“Cowboys kick off next Sunday,” said Chris through a mouthful of baked cherries. The warm, cloying scent reminded Joel of your perfume. “You want to come over for dinner? We’ll order takeout, grab some beers.”

Joel swallowed, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. He felt the phantom touch of your thumb lingering just above his Cupid’s bow. “Yeah, man. Be fun.”

Chris grinned over the pie—now his, no lingers yours and Joel’s. “Hope you don’t mind that I invited my kid, too. She needs the break.”

You’re close, baby. Can fuckin’ feel it. Feel you squeezin’ me.

Thighs trembling, muscles gooey, you struggle to lift yourself up, and it's Joel who scoops you up with a hand on your ass and lies you on your back, never once pulling out. He doesn't think he can. How did the first man to discover fire ever snuff it out?

He bends over you and thrusts deep, punching a sob out of your throat. Joel groans, nipping your chin as you toss your head back, his mouth trailing down the hollow of your throat, latching around one of your sore nipples, already abused by his attention. You rake your fingers through his tousled greying locks and lift your legs up around his hips as he fucks you slow, hard, deep enough that your heart begins to bruise.

Joel hisses when he feels your fingernails scratching down his spine, between his shoulder blades, pulling him close to you. He dulls his pain in your flesh, open-mouthed kisses soothing the biting bruises he's left on your throat.

Your cunt rhythmically pulses around his cock and Joel grunts, driving deeper, hand fisting your hair, and Daddy, I’m so close—!

Friday night. Joel’s birthday.

He’d spent it on the job site, laying brick, then at home, cracking open a cold beer and calling Sarah, whose gift hadn't arrived yet. She sang him “Happy Birthday” from her dorm room and Joel smiled. All things considered, it wasn't a shitty day. Just…

Lonely.

And you—

You were at his door at ten o’clock, shrouded in night in a way he'd never seen you. Not dressed in pink but black: sweatpants and a tight little tank top that made him swallow his tongue. You were holding a goddamn cake.

You'd had a stressful day. He could tell. Eyes a little sunken, shoulders a little rounded, but you were still smiling, still holding up that cake—chocolate, circled with candied cherries, of course—and singing a weary “Surprise!”

Joel laughed—in shock, maybe—and rubbed his hand over his beard. “Jesus, baby,” he said. “C’mon in; it’s cold out.”

He helped you secure the cake in the refrigerator and offered you dinner: leftover pad thai and a beer. You accepted the former with a grumbling stomach and politely declined the latter. Of course, you were a wine girl.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” you told him, sitting across the couch while reruns of Happy Days idly played on the television. “Shit goes down at the Morning Star when you're not there.”

Joel shook his head. “I run a tight ship. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m strung-out, Joel, as ever. But fine.” Your conciliatory smile was so fucking cheeky he had half a mind to put you over his knee. “I hope your birthday wasn't a disappointment.”

“Couldn't have been,” he said. “You brought me a cake.”

You beamed. And the cord wrapped around both of your bodies jerked tighter. Joel was hiding his erection with the takeout container, too humiliated to let you see the hard band of his cock in his jeans. You'd run. You'd think he was a freak, a perv, a sleaze.

He was all three, of course. Didn't stop him from wanting—

His cock driving deep inside you, achingly slow, back screaming for relief. Daddy, please, I’m… nnngh, please let me come! Daddy, I’ll do anything, please!

Shhh, baby girl. He rises to his haunches and dips his hand between your joined bodies, rubbing your slick little pearl in fast circles. Your eyes roll back and your head collided with the pillow once more. Thaaat’s it, baby. You gonna come for Daddy? Be a good girl for me?

“Joel,” you said softly, your food forgotten on the table, your body inching closer to his, now two feet apart at best. Your eyes buttery in the darkness, lips dewy with some pinkish gloss you always wore, gloss he knew tasted like cherries. He licked his lips.

His hands flexed. “Yeah.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you said, bridging the gap, placing your hand on his knee, pink nails and soft skin and vanilla perfume. Joel sets his container aside, swallowing hard.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You were tentative at first, scooting closer, your hand gingerly exploring the length of his strong thigh, against the grain of the denim.

“Baby,” said Joel, more a long-bated exhale than a word at all. Gritting his teeth, hands at his sides, he watched in disbelief as you explored him, your manicured hand gently palming the hard length in his jeans. The moan he let out surprised himself.

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips, your arms winding around his neck, perfumecherrieslipgloss—

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Joel’s hands, no longer balled into fists, flattened against your arms and travelled their length, exploring your contours, dipping his palms into the curves of your shoulder blades, lodging himself firmly in the after with you.

You shivered, and he liked it.

“You need someone to touch you, too, baby girl.”

Not a question. You nodded anyway.

“Words,” he demanded.

Your lips parted and suddenly your noses were brushing, the pupils of your heavy eyes expanding, taking all of him in.

“I need you to touch me, Joel.”

“I know,” he said, one hand smoothing down the crown of your head, the other trailing featherlight up your spine. “I’m gonna kiss you, baby.”

You nodded again, a little feverish, pulling yourself closer to him, your thighs squeezing his. “Please.”

The after began with you, the way it will end with you. And he's kissing you now, too, swallowing the sounds of your orgasm as you hold him so tightly to you there's no escape. Not that he wants to leave. Not that he finally has this.

He's breathing life into your climax and burning it bright, hot, endless—that’s my good girl, coming so much for me, I know it's a lot, baby girl, just keep holdin’ me, that’s it, sweetheart.

And he's coming, too, grasping your hips so hard they'll bruise, nipping your earlobe and your jaw and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, spiralling out of control, squeezed so tight by your hot, wet pussy. He comes with a pinch of pain in his lower back, groaning your name into you, pitching up into a near-whine as you milk him, guide him, coax him.

Fuck, fuck… goddamn—

Daddy, I need your cum. Please come inside me.

I will, baby girl, I will… Jesus—

It's so warm and slick where his cock begins to pulse inside you that he couldn't pull out if he wanted to. He empties himself, absolves himself, no longer a sinning man but one cleansed. Your body begs for it, your cunt pulling every drop from him, letting him make a mess of your used hole. Joel grinds absently until it's too much, until he’s sensitive and softening and trying not to collapse on top of you.

Your lip gloss is smudged. He licks his lips and tastes cherries.

“You okay, baby?”

You wince as he pulls out of you, globs of cum pooling at your hole and dripping onto the bed sheets. “Mhm.” You pull him closer, asking for a kiss he happily gives you.

“I feel good. I feel happy.”

He grins into your throat, littering meagre kisses in the junction there. “Did so well for me,” he mumbles.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair.

He purrs at the satiating scratch of your nails, his head resting on your chest. “Mmm.”

“Do you really like the Miller Macchiato, or are you just ordering it to make me happy?”

Joel chuckles, playfully taking your nipple between his teeth. “It's grown on me.”

From here, where he can feel the thrum of your settling heart reverberate through his skull, Joel gently tucks the beating organ back between your ribs for safekeeping. Here, in the clear-blue space of after, he doesn't need to hold it to know he's got it. He only needs to lower his ear to your chest and hear it sing his name.

tagging some friends who showed interest in the wip!!: @casa-boiardi @swiftispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cool-iguana @morning-star-joy @party-hearses @5oh5 (i love you all 🫶)

#tw: daddy kink #kiwisbell's fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #daddy!joel

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strangersmunsons · 9 months

Text

read 'em and weep

you and Eddie meet at the library. he’s smitten.

Contains: Eddie x Reader, bookworm!reader, lovesick!Eddie, reader gives Eddie book recommendations. No mention of reader’s physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: brief mention of loneliness & negligence in Eddie’s childhood. Word Count: ~2.2k it's my hope to make this a little series! i think eddie is def a bookish guy - no lord of the rings quoting, metal head dungeon master hates reading. he would certainly be open to any fantasy/horror recs you had for him! <3

Indiana. 1989.

Hawkins Library sees a lot of action in the summer.

They offer a wide variety of youth programs to keep the local kids busy and the parents sane while school is out. One of the main events is Saturday Story Time, a beloved weekly staple that you have recently been tasked with putting on.

It’s simple. You gather a number of books, usually with a common theme, and then read a select few to the children who had signed up for the day. Most of the kids in attendance are no older than six or so, with some parents even pulling up chairs to the back so they can sit with infants cradled in their arms. The older ones sit criss-cross-applesauce on carpet squares in front of you, their chubby faces alight with giggles as you recount each silly, fantastical story with all the spirit you can muster.

And then there’s always an accompanying arts and crafts project, of course. If you read The Very Hungry Caterpillar then, naturally, you have to make little googly-eyed caterpillars out of popsicle sticks and colorful pom-poms. You don’t make the rules.

If trouble occurs during Story Time, it’s usually in this phase. (Giving paste to toddlers is always a gamble – you never know what they’re gonna do with that.)

And on this particular morning, it’s been chaos from start to finish. A whopping eighteen kids had signed up, and you stretched yourself pretty thin trying to attend to everyone.

One of the babies spit up directly onto the little girl sitting in front of him and his mother. Someone slipped on their carpet square and fell harshly to the floor, earning a bruised elbow that you gently fussed over. You wrangled a pair of twins who fought bitterly over a bottle of Elmer’s glue. There were three individual running-with-scissors-scares and, finally, you spent a good ten minutes soothing one sobbing child with whom there was nothing apparently wrong with, and that you suspected was just in need of a good cry.

So yeah, it was basically pandemonium.

But eventually, to your great relief, things wound down. The audience dispersed, with their handmade goods clutched in sticky fists, and went to peruse the glossy line of picture books you put out for display. Within the next hour or two, everyone traded the cool darkness of the library for buttery sunshine, and all was quiet again. You waved cheerfully to the last parent-child duo as they made their exit, promising them that there’d be a fun activity next weekend too.

You love these storytime sessions, you really do, but sheesh. Sometimes they run you ragged. With the havoc of the morning finally over, and the promise of lunch in your near future, you try to shake off the weariness, and instead take it upon yourself to clean up the disorganized mess someone’s made of the horror section.

You’re going about your work, tongue poking out in concentration as you strain to reach the really high shelves, when you notice someone standing in your peripheral vision. You turn and glance at him, or at least, what you can see of him. He’s half-hidden by the shelf behind you, but you catch sight of brown hair and denim.

A pale face appears on a craned neck from around the corner. His dark eyes meet yours, widen slightly when he sees that you’ve caught him lurking, and he abruptly disappears again.

You purse your lips to hide your smile. This isn’t uncommon; such moments often occur when you’re cleaning up a section of books someone is hoping to sift through. In a small act of kindness, you move over to the neighboring shelf and look for something to busy yourself with; trying to give the guy a chance to browse without having to ask you to step aside.

He doesn’t emerge. You wait, expecting to sense him passing by you, but no dice. It’s amusing to think that someone might be frightened to approach you (You? Really?) but you can’t help feeling sorry that you were in his way.

The rest of your shift is rather uneventful. At the end of the day, you punch out and head home, the stranger behind the shelf forgotten.

When you come back to work on Monday, it’s much quieter than the last morning you’d been in. You greet your coworkers and set up shop at the front desk, opening up a book of your own to pass the time until someone needed assistance.

You’ve been reading for about half an hour when the big double doors open up for the day’s first visitor, the sound echoing loudly in the silent, spacious room. You look up in interest, ready to greet the person with a warm smile.

“Good morning!” you softly call out as he comes into view. He walks slowly towards you, shoes scuffing the checkered tile with each step. As he comes nearer, you can see that he’s biting his lip, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the gesture oozing self-consciousness. He only makes eye contact with you for a second before his gaze flits away again.

He’s pretty conspicuous-looking to be approaching the desk with such hesitance, you think. He has dark hair that hangs in slightly-scraggly curls down to his chest, and huge dark eyes. The pale skin of his arms, sticking out from within a denim vest/Judas Priest t-shirt combo, are littered with tattoos.

He pauses a few feet away from you, like he’s debating whether he wants to stop and chat, or to simply veer off towards the bookshelves and start browsing. Ultimately he decides to shuffle forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Hi there. What can I do for you?” you ask, voice gentle but encouraging.

He looks down and rests a hand on the desk, absentmindedly tracing the wood pattern with his thumb. “Um, yes.” He doesn’t offer anything else.

There’s a pregnant pause, both of you digesting the fact that what you had asked was not a yes or no question.

He tries again. “I…am in need…of some new reading material.”

You nod gravely, expression serious. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

He begins to rock lightly back and forth on his feet, contemplating. “I like fantasy, especially Tolkien. I read a lot of horror, too, and sometimes sci-fi. If you had any suggestions for me, that’d be great.”

“Oh, we can certainly find you something,” you reassure him, already flipping through a mental rolodex of your favorite books in those genres. “Here, come with me.”

You stand and move around the desk to meet him, beckoning for him to follow.

Eddie watches you run a delicate hand over the spines of the books, keenly aware of the clammy sweat that’s flooding his own palms. Be cool, Munson.

“So,” you begin, a gleam of excitement in your eyes, “you like fantasy. Do you read Le Guin?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing slightly with the movement. “Oh yeah, I’ve read the Earthsea trilogy.”

“Have you read any of The Hainish Cycle books?”

“I haven’t read those ones, no.”

You pull out two slim paperbacks from the row, holding each one out for him so he can study the covers. “These ones are science fiction, and they’re pretty good. You might like Rocannon’s World since it’s similar to a fantasy novel, but personally I think Left Hand of Darkness is the best.” You suddenly pause, and look around furtively, like you were checking to make sure that you two are really alone. You even put a hand up to the side of your mouth, as though shielding the conversation from eavesdroppers.

“Honestly,” you lower your voice like you’re admitting something scandalous, “I even liked it better than Earthsea.”

“No!” Eddie immediately matches your whispered, gossipy tone and lets his jaw drop, pretending to be aghast.

“Yes!” you insist, seemingly delighted by his willingness to play along. Eddie’s heart soars.

“I guess I can’t refute that until I read it, huh? What’s it about?” he asked, taking it from your hand.

“An envoy is visiting this frozen alien planet, and he’s trying to convince them to join this intergalactic coalition that he represents, but they’re making it like, really difficult for him. Also, gender doesn’t exist, and there’s political turmoil stemming from border disputes.”

“...oh. Cool.”

The next half-hour passes in this fashion. Your soft, mild demeanor is aglow with enthusiasm as you pull out book after book, giving him an off-the-cuff elevator pitch for each. Eddie can practically feel the cartoon hearts swirling around his head, bright pink and red bubbles that are almost certainly going to appear out of thin air and give him away.

He can’t put his finger on what it is, precisely, that’s pulling him in so deeply, drawing him towards you like a magnet with an opposite pole. Maybe it’s the tender way you talk about each book, the love and care that’s so tangible in your sweet voice, the way you speak about them as though they’re your old friends. Perhaps they are.

It’s not an unfamiliar concept to Eddie. A childhood steeped in loneliness and poverty, instability and dysfunction, neglect from his volatile and unreliable parents…yeah, he gets it. The wanting, the longing, the dire need to escape to someplace that doesn’t exist, some place where things were better and didn’t hurt, a dreamworld that would be kinder to a scrawny little boy with unwashed hair and a mean father.

The closest he ever came to it was when he lost himself between the yellowed and dog-eared pages of the few, precious books he owned.

So he listens to you chatter away with chest-aching tenderness, already thinking that he could listen to you like this for hours and be glad for it.

“You love fantasy, but you’ve never read The Last Unicorn?”

Eddie gives you an apologetic half-shrug, no longer able to keep the goofy, besotted grin from unfurling across his face. “Never got around to it, I guess.”

“It makes me cry. You have to take it,” you tell him with pleading eyes, adding it to the top of the growing pile in his arms before he can refuse. Not that he ever would. How could he, when you look at him like that?

“You cry at this one, really?” He looks curiously at the artwork on the front, an innocent picture of the pale horned creature. “But it’s so unassuming…”

“Don’t be fooled, it’ll get you. Take it,” you repeat.

Eddie shifts the stack of books to cradle it in one arm, so he can raise the other at you in a salute. “Yes, ma’am. And when I’m finished with it, I’ll give you a full report on the emotional damage it caused me.”

This makes you giggle, lips turned up in a gorgeous smile, and Eddie knows he’s a goner.

Back at the front, you resume your previous positions at the desk. Him in front and you behind, this time separated by a short pile of books.

You hold your hand out. “Card, please, sir.” Polite and professional, but with a little sparkle in your eye that lets Eddie hope for a moment that his time with you this morning was more pleasure than business.

He fumbles with his wallet, slipping out his library card and slotting it between his index and middle fingers, extending it for you to take. His chunky silver rings catch the light.

You accept the offering. “Thank you” – you quickly read the messy signature at the bottom – “Edward.” You look back at him with a grin.

He cringes, face scrunching in embarrassment. “Oh God. Call me Eddie, please.”

The scanner gives a little chirp! as you begin the checkout process, nodding. “Will do, Eddie.” His name sounds like a song when you say it, one he never wants to stop listening to.

You finish scanning his books, and slide a receipt into the jacket of the novel on top (which just so happens to be Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love). Instead of sliding the stack towards him, you keep both hands clasped on the cover, hesitating. You bite your lip, an unconscious imitation of himself earlier. “Listen….”

Eddie straightens up a little, stomach flipping like a coin. “Yeah?”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry if I talked too much. It’s just – most people who come in don’t actually ask me for recommendations, and I got excited,” you admit quietly, looking sheepish.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie says without missing a beat. “I appreciate it. I really enjoyed it, actually,” he adds, eager to quell your anxiety. “I liked talking with you.” More than you know.

“O-oh,” you stutter, taken aback. “I liked talking with you, too.”

Eddie nods, smiling slightly. “Would you like to…talk again?” He flushes scarlet and coughs. Smooth. “I just mean, when I finish these” – he motions towards the day’s finds – “we have to discuss them, right? You helped me pick ‘em out, after all.”

“Of course. You have to let me know what you think.”

His smile gets bigger. “So we’ll reconvene?”

“We’ll reconvene,” you chuckle.

“Awesome. Looking forward to it.” He sweeps up his books, and gives you a little wave. “Thanks again, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

And he can hardly wait. It looks like he’s got a lot of reading to do…

thanks for reading!!! <3 edit: this is now a series! Read Ch. 2-> Here!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #stranger things fanfiction

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aemondsbabe · 5 months

Text

Homecoming

summary: reassurance & car sex || you're desperate to have tom before he ships off, but neither of your houses are exactly ideal options...

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, first time, loss of virginity, car sex, public sex (they don’t get caught, no one else sees, but it’s not in the privacy of a home so ig), fingering, fluff, tom being so sweet actually, v soft

word count: 3.1k

a/n: happy day two of 12 days of smuff!!! tom bennett makes my head spin!!!!!!! Can be read as a part 1 to A Promise is a Promise or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @violaobanion!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A loud peal of laughter erupts from Tom’s lips as the two of you stagger out of the small, neighborhood pub you frequented, each of you calling quick goodbye’s over your shoulders to your friends. The night air was crisp but thankfully not overly cold yet as you take Tom’s arm, your shoulder bumping against his as you step out onto the sidewalk.

“You’re a real firecracker, love, you know that?” He asks with a cheeky grin, draping a long arm over your shoulders as you begin the quick walk back to your family’s place.

You can’t help but chuckle as you glance over at him, the apples of your cheeks sore from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing over the last couple hours. “‘S just the truth, Tommy,” you shrug, slightly slurring your words, “I just love you sooooooo much! Like, more than anything.”

Leaning in, Tom presses a quick kiss to your cheek and laughs once again when you stumble against him from the movement. “Easy there, tiger,” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. The two of you amble a bit further in a comfortable, giggly silence as you finally turn the corner onto your street, “D’you love me more than Cola Cubes?” Tom asks, giggling out the words.

You throw your head back and groan dramatically before turning to him with a playful pout, “That is pure evil, that is! Making me think of Cola Cubes during rationing!” You whine, reaching up to lightly smack him on his firm chest.

Tom merely laughs as the two of you finally come to a stop in front of your front door; spinning around, you let yourself fall back against the white-painted door, the material cool against your back through your thin blouse. You look up through your lashes at Tom, watching as he leans forward, balancing himself against the door with one arm outstretched above the two of you as his other hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Tell ya what,” he starts, a suddenly serious look in his cobalt eyes as he leans ever closer to you and rests his forehead against yours, “I’ll save you every single Cola Cube I get in my C-rations and y’can have ‘em all when I get back to ya.”

Your throat tightens at his words and your heart twists meanly in your chest, though you manage to turn your lips up into a small, quivering smile as you place a hand on his chest, the grey fabric of his sweater soft under your palm. “And you promise you’ll come back?” Your voice is softer than you mean for it to be, a slight hoarseness to it from how your throat pinches.

Tom sighs softly and gently cups your chin, his hand still cool from where it had been balanced on the door. “I’ve only had you for a measly two months, you think I’m giving you up that easily?” He teases, though there’s a certain sadness in his eyes that mirror’s your own; even still, you can’t help but chuckle at his words.

The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying being close as neither of you are willing to say goodnight yet. After a minute, your breath hitches in your chest as you notice the shadow behind the brunette’s eyes morph into a different kind of darkness as his eyes stray to your lips.

Without a second thought, you lean in and press your lips against his, eliciting a pleased hum from the boy, the small noise vibrating against the hand still on his chest as your other comes up to rest on his shoulder. Both of his skirt down to grab at your hips and he pulls you closer to him, your heads tilting in opposite directions as the kiss deepens. A small whimper escapes your lips as he licks into your mouth, his tongue swirling against your own.

“Tommy,” you whisper, your head tilting further to the side as he presses a line of kisses down your neck, “I… I want you.” You finish shyly, teeth biting into your lower lip as he pulls back to look at you.

His breath hitches for a second before he collects himself. “Are you sure, love?” He asks gruffly, “I thought you wanted to wait till–.”

You shake your head, your eyes searching his as you fiddle with the neckline of his sweater. “Changed my mind,” the corner of your lips quirks up into a nervous smile, “Think of it as a going away present.”

Tom smiles at your words and huffs out a small laugh before nodding to the door behind you. “Whatever you wish, love. Lead the way.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you shake your head again. “Are you crazy? We cannot go in there, both my parents are very light sleepers and if my dad catches you, you won’t even make it to the Navy, much less make it home. Can’t we just go round to yours? It’s only a couple minutes away.”

“No can do, love,” Tom sighs with a shake of his head, “Even if my dad’s asleep, there’s no way we’ll get past Lois. Bloody bat hearing on that one, I swear.”

The two of you sigh, defeated, your shoulders sagging as Tom crooks an arm up, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as he glances around, the wheels in his head spinning frantically as he tries to come up with an idea; his eyes do a double take as he spots your family’s black car sitting idly on the small driveway in front of your house and he turns to you with a sly smirk.

“What say we christen your dad’s car?”

You start to giggle, convinced he’s merely joking, although you stop when you see the look in his eyes. “Tommy, you can’t be serious,” you say with a surprised smile, “If my dad finds out we took it he’ll–.”

“Who said anything about taking it, love?” He says with a proud smirk.

You guffaw at this, staring at him incredulously. “What, you mean just here on the drive?”

“Well, why not?” He questions, exaggeratedly turning his head as he looks around, peering up and down the deserted road, “You know as well as I do that all your neighbors are old as the hills, love. Only ones out round here at this hour are you and me.”

You stay quiet for a moment, unbelievably actually considering his proposal as you glance up and down the road and well… he is right. Most of your neighbors are quite a bit older and all of their windows dark and still as you peer around. Finally, you turn back to Tom with a sigh, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Fine,” you quip, blushing slightly as he chuckles lowly, clearly pleased with himself, “Let me grab the bloody key.” You mutter with a playful eye roll as you open your front door as slowly and quietly as you can possibly manage. You duck in and quickly snatch your father’s ring of keys off the small table next to the door before quietly shutting it behind you.

You hand the keys to Tom and follow him down the drive, a sense of giddiness quickly replacing your nerves; the brunette easily unlocks the car and quickly pulls one of the back doors open and slides inside before reaching a hand out to pull you with him.

He pounces on you as soon as you carefully shut the door, his rough hands eagerly bunching up the fabric of your blouse as he tugs it out from where you’d tucked it under your skirt while his lips move frantically against your own.

“You’re sure?” He pants, pulling back after a moment when he feels your hands starting to tug impatiently at the bottom of his sweater, “We really don’t ha–.”

You press a finger against his rosy lips, cutting him off with a soft giggle. “I want this, Tommy,” leaning in, you trail soft kisses up his jaw to his ear, “I want you.” You whisper, relishing the way he shivers on top of you and the way the muscles of his stomach and chest twitch under your touch as you slide your hands under his sweater.

With a nod, Tom dives in yet again and presses wet kisses against the column of your throat as he tugs you into his lap, careful not to let your head bump against the roof of the car. He groans at the feel of you on top of him and his hands move quickly as they pull your blouse up; he leans in and kisses wetly up your stomach, right down the middle until he reaches the bottom of your bra.

His blue eyes are nearly black as he gazes up at you, questioning. A whimper slips past your lips as you answer him with a small nod, fingers threading through his short hair as he eagerly slips your bra up.

He breathes out a low, satisfied groan when your breasts are finally free, not bothering to take off your bra or blouse before he dives in. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, lips pressed against the underside of your breast, “They’re better than I imagined, so much better.”

A giggle spills past your lips before it quickly turns into a moan, your head lolling back as he latches onto one nipple, happily sucking it into his warm mouth with a satisfied grunt. “T-Tommy,” you whisper, already writhing on top of him from a few touches, “Don’t stop.” Your voice is whiny as you speak, only for you to actually whine as Tom pulls back for a second to tug his sweater over his head.

“Relax, love,” he huffs against your chest, groaning hotly as you squirm in his lap, no doubt able to feel his cock as it hardens steadily in his pants, “‘M gonna give you what you want, gonna do right by you.” He promises, licking over your nipple before sucking at it and letting his eyes flutter shut at the way you gently tug his hair.

The windows of the car quickly begin to fog up as the two of you move together, your breathy sighs and whimpers filling the small space along with Tom’s harsh pants and groans. You squirm in his lap as his hands make quick work of your stockings and underwear, quickly tugging them down and off your legs before he tosses them somewhere on the floor of the car.

He looks to you for reassurance once more, which you happily give, before his warm hand cups your center, causing both of you to shudder against each other. Slowly, carefully, he parts your folds before gently rubbing a finger over your bud, chuckling when you buck into his hand with a loud moan. “That the spot, love?” His eyes flick up to your face, eager to watch your reactions as he touches you, “God, you’re dripping.” A soft sigh leaves his lips as he presses his fingers more firmly against you, flicking them over your clit.

“Mhm, Tommy, shit,” you whine, your voice only a breathy whisper as you press your forehead against his. Your eyes flutter as your hips move against his hand, seemingly with a mind of their own, “More, please!” You whine desperately after a few moments, eyes squeezing shut at the way your center clenches around nothing.

Nodding, Tom moves his hand a bit lower, groaning at how much slicker you are here, before he runs his fingers through your folds once more, making sure to get them wet before notching two at your entrance. “Ready?” He asks softly, only slowly pushing them in once you nod. He groans along with you, marveling at how tightly you’re grasping his fingers as his cock twitches in his pants at the thought of how much tighter you’ll be around him. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groans lowly, blue eyes glancing down to watch your breasts heave as you pant on top of him, “Does that feel good, love?”

Wordlessly, you nod against his forehead, swallowing thickly. A loud moan is practically punched out of you as he curls his fingers, pressing perfectly against a small, sensitive spot inside you. Your mouth hangs open as unintelligible whines tumble from your lips, a shiver going down your spine when you see the pleased smirk on his face.

His long fingers fuck into you for a few more moments, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit in a way that makes you see stars as you cling to him tightly, your breasts pressed deliciously up against his warm, bare chest.

You whine, however, when his movements start to slow against you, though he’s quick to hush you, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “You want my cock, love?” He asks, pulling his fingers from you slowly before gripping appreciatively at the fat of your inner thigh.

You pull back to look down at him, your eyebrows knitting together as a small, nervous pit forms in your stomach. “It… it won’t hurt, right?” You ask softly, the words of several of your friends echoing through your mind.

Quickly, Tom shakes his head, one hand coming up to cup your cheek lovingly. “I promise it won’t,” he says softly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips, “I told you, I’m gonna do right by you.”

Hesitantly, you nod, though he must sense the nervousness that’s still pooled in your stomach. He sighs with a soft smile, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “How about you stay on top, hm? That way you control everything.”

You blink a few times, considering the offer before smiling and nodding, which draws a bright smile from the boy underneath you. You shift back a bit on his lap, giving him enough room to unbutton and unzip his pants and pull them down just enough to free his cock; your eyes widen as he pulls it free from his boxers with a relieved sigh.

“A-Are you sure it’ll fit?” You ask softly, marveling at it as he runs a hand over his length.

He chuckles beneath you with a proud smirk as he pulls you back to him. “I’m sure, love, I promise you’ll enjoy it.” He assures you, pressing kisses down your neck as he does so. Your breath hitches as you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance, and you lean into Tom’s touch as you let him guide your hips.

“Oh!” You shudder as you slowly sink down, breathing heavily as the head slips inside your warm center.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, his hands gentle on your hips as he lets you take him at your own pace, “Doing so well, pretty girl.”

His praises spur you on as you sink lower and lower, eyes squeezing shut as your thighs burn a little with the effort. Finally, after a few minutes, you breathe a sigh of relief as your thighs finally rest on top of his, his length pressing fully inside you.

“Y’okay?” He checks through a ragged breath, his eyes nearly slipping to the back of his head as he feels you twitch and pulse around him already, your walls suffocatingly tight against his length.

You nod as you let yourself fall forward and press a cheek against his warm shoulder before giving a small, experimental roll of your hips. You gasp as you feel him press against you, filling you with a delicious ache.

The two of you begin to move together wordlessly, your hands finding purchase against his firm chest as you gingerly bounce on top of him, breathily moaning in time with each thrust. Tom grunts each time you sink back down onto him, one hand gripping at your hip as the other kneads at your breast, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipple just enough to elicit adorable high-pitched whines from you.

Your clit, still sensitive from his earlier attention, rubs perfectly against the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock and sends shivers down your spine. “T-Tommy,” you gasp, nearly doubling over as you tilt your hips, causing the head of his cock to rut against that sensitive spot within you at the same time your clit grinds against him, “I think – I, oh!” You pant against his shoulder, unable to string together two words as sparks suddenly burst behind your eyelids.

Tom huffs out a loud groan as he feels you tense on top of him, your walls clenching around his cock wildly as your peak washes over you. He mumbles incoherent curses against your neck as his hips rut up into you.

He holds out for as long as he can before tugging you off of his lap, one hand quickly grasping at his length as he desperately strokes it. You watch, enraptured, as his head tilts back onto the car seat, his Adams’s apple bobbing beautifully as he moans, long and loud. His cock twitches in his grasp as he finishes, painting wet, pearlescent streaks against the trembling skin of his lower stomach, his chest heaving.

After a moment, the two of you giggle softly. You bite your lip as he bends over, only to open it in protest as he quickly wipes his spend from his stomach with your discarded stockings, “Tom! You pig!” You admonish, albeit through a surprised laugh.

He peers up at you cheekily as he deposits your stockings on the floor of the car once again, laughing as he pulls you back to him. “You’ll wash them anyway!” He huffs, wrapping his arms around you. The two of you grow quiet for a moment, rain softly pattering against the top of the car. “Or you could keep them like a trophy while I’m gone,” he teases, chuckling once again at your small sound of disgust, “Something to remember me by.”

“But you’ll be back,” you say softly after a moment, pulling back so you can look at him properly, your wide eyes searching his, “Right?”

He sighs with a soft smile, both hands gently cupping your cheeks. “I promise, I’ll come back to you,” he says earnestly, blue eyes boring into your own, “I will come home to you, love.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before finally nodding, tucking your face against his shoulder once more and breathing in his familiar scent.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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officialabortive · 11 months

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Barbarian!Bakugou x FoxHybrid!Reader

Barbarian!Bakugou had already set up camp for the night under a canopy of thick tree branches. Finally finding some semblance of relief within the cool shade, when he was disturbed by jingling of rusted bells and worn out wooden wheels clacking against rough terrain. Of course, he knows before even looking, that it was the tell tale clatter of a wandering merchant. Bakugou makes haste, jogging over to see the available merchandise. Opportunities like this are rare, as merchants who travel so far out are few and far between.

The stallions —who are surprisingly well kept and very clearly well groomed— hauling the small wooden caravan came to a halt as the man holding the reigns gave a tug upon noticing a blonde figure jogging up. Dropping the reigns, the man swiftly hoped to the ground, ready to offer a sales pitch. Clasping his hands together, the merchant gave his best smile. It was obviously forced, far to wide and toothy to be genuine. Katsuki already pinned him as an obnoxious asshole.

"Ah! Hello, hello, good sir! Would you be interested in making a purchase? You've come at a good time, I have quite the selection at the moment!"

Bakugou grunts "maybe. What'd you have?" The cart was ever so slightly too elevated to see inside without needing to jump to look in over the edge

"Oh please do come take a look!"

Bakugou trails behind him to the back of the caravan where they can see in through the open back. Several hybrids sat on the wooden flooring, all of which having their gaze pinned directly back on him.

"I only carry the cutest and most unique hybrids! Even some exotic breeds! Only the best of the best! And I can assure you they are all perfectly family friendly!" He started pointing to them individually. "Here we have a beautiful teddywidder rabbit! This is red tailed deer! Over here is one of my personal favorites, a rare spot-"

"Got any hunters?"

The man began stumbling over his words. Now one ever wanted something like that, a possible threat. People wanted a nice cute hybrid to have around the house and be loved by children.

"I- uh- well, I do have this exotic snowy fox, who I'm sure is an amazing hunter. Foxes are known for their incredible hearing, agility, and stealth! All amazing attribut-"

"I'll take 'em"

There was an audible ting, Bakugou having flicked something to the man who fumbled to catch it, even with using two hands. Greedy eyes bulge at the perfectly circular gold piece in his palm. Gluttony has evidently long had it's unshakable grasp on his soul.

—

You were fairly well behaved. Immediately inspecting the temporary camp, analyzing each item in the worn out bag that lay open on the dirt. Than coming to sniff at bakugou, poking and prodding, curiously tugging at each individual necklaces on his chest. He'd even noticed how you sat exclusively in shaded areas, and squinting whenever you weren't.

Yeah, he regrets not thinking further into the whole 'only liking dark areas' thing. Turns out foxes are fucking nocturnal.

Now, the sun had long gone in to hiding, yet here sits a very much wide awake, agitated barbarian. Slouched with arms crossed over his chest as he glares at nothing in particular.

"Can't believe I spent fuck'n money on this bullshit– QUIT IT!"

The sales basterd was right, you were definitely stealthy. And for Katsuki, it's annoying as shit. He can't even hear your approach when you pounce on him from behind, cackling when you successfully grab on to him mid-jump. Only after several hours worth of attempts to catch you, only for you to slip right out of his grasp, to have you apprehend and tired. Finaly he can get some damn shut ey- why the fuck are you burrowing under his cloak!?

Whatever. At least bakugou is confident in your skills required for hunting. Perfect.

MASTERLIST

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wcbblife · 8 days

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could you do paige with either a black gf or a volleyball player gf hcs??

Paige x Volleyball player!gf HCs

a/n: I've had this idea in the drafts for quite a bit of time. So glad you sparked my mind to finally finish it

Bit of background about you two ig:

What first stood out to Paige about you was the ability to absolutely spike the ball with an insane amount of power. The first time she saw you play she was with KK because they were both oh so bored on their free day. Next thing she knew you were elevating off the floor and slamming your palm against the ball with an insane amount of strength. They both let out a synched “DAMN” as the ball quickly made its way down to the floor with a resounding bang. One after the other, she was literally left with her jaw on the floor at how good you were and how you were able to carry the team to a flawless victory.

She definitely went home and searched all of your highlights, slowly being more and more captivated by how high you could jump and how fast you could react to get some saves. After that, she would literally make up the stupidest excuses to just see you absolutely dominate on the court.

Noticing her growing attendance, fans began to joke around on the internet (with pics and vids). You take notice of this. Especially on how she cheered extra hard whenever you helped on scoring a point.

Funny enough I think you two would meet in the library. She would pass you and the look on her face is hilarious (something between a mix of amazement, shock, and something else). She tries to stop the absolute sound of excitement that she wants to let out.

"Dude, you’re an awesome player.” She says, smiling super bright.

"Well if it isn’t my biggest fan” You tease. “But are you serious? You’re the cool one here.”

You both continue to absolutely geek out about one another and compliment the other's play style. It’s then that you find out that she absolutely loves when you spike.

You both get closer after one particular game where your famous strong spikes literally sealed the deal for the team to win. After a particularly impressive spike she literally jumped while screaming as loud as she could and you couldn't even deny that trying to ignore a tall blonde jumping erratically up and down was getting harder after each game. So you just turned towards her and pointed to mess with her. It worked though cuz Paige went absolutely crazy.

After that, you two started talking some more and you even started showing your face to some of her basketball games. And she asked you out after one of her hard games, caught up in the high of the game. You two immediately become the school's hottest topic after it.

Some actually normal HCs:

She absolutely is your biggest fan. No one ever cheers louder for you than Paige Bueckers.

Is eager to learn how to set for you so that she can help you with your spikes. Like seeing it first hand because it makes her feel so starstruck seeing it first hand.

Absolutely loves to play beach volleyball with you. Idk why she just seems like it.

Lovesssss to see you in your uniform. Especially with those shorts. Makes her go crazy.

Goes nuts when you react fast and save the ball. "YEAH BABY! YOU SHOW EM HOW ITS DONE!"

Will 100% challenge you to a 1v1 but immediately regret it as she watches you jump to slam the ball. “Chill! You're gonna kill me if you do that.”

She loves to learn and break down each set with you. Especially if you tell her it helps you better your game. And vise versa. You love to watch her games and hear her break down her own playing.

Outside of sports and school, Paige will literally show you off to everyone (like imagine a family Christmas party and she's literally holding someone hostage while showing them you play. “Isn't she awesome? I mean just look at her!").

Acts like a concerned mother whenever you fall one too many times in a game while diving to save the ball from touching the ground.

Loves it when you wink or smile in her direction while you're playing. It actually drives her a little crazy.

#wcbb #women's basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader

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ushys · 9 months

Text

⸻ miles morales as your boyfriend (earth 1610)

a/n: omfg the chokehold this gif has on me- anyway you guys do not understand how much love i have for this sweet boy 🥹 deserves the world idc idc.

- fluff, no nsfw bc he is a minor, afab reader (lmk if you guys want gn, male)

MILES LOVES drawing you. you’re perfect in his eyes and he could draw only you for all of eternity and he wouldn’t complain at all. everything about you was beautiful to him and he made sure he captured every beautiful detail you have on to his drawings.

MILES is the type to send you cute (your favorite animal) videos on tiktok because he knows how much you love em and all he wants to do is to make you happy.

WILL introduce you to his family and is happy when he finds out how easily you and his parents got along. you got along with his mom so well that sometimes you’d visit their house and mostly talk ‘chisme’ with her the entire time (he gets jealous-)

AFTER an argument, he stops by your window and drops you off flowers with a little cute note apologizing. he doesn’t know if you would want to see him at that moment so he gives you time to cool off and give you some space. he replies immediately if you were to call or text him ready to talk again due to how much he hates wasting time not talking to you.

HE likes showing you off to anyone. his friends? yes. his family? yes. strangers on the street? yes. he can’t help it if he’s madly in love.

WHEN he revealed to you that he was spider-man, he was scared that you were going to be mad at him for keeping this a secret from him for a very long time. he thought that you were going to think that he didn’t “trust” you but when you were actually ecstatic finding out instead of upset, his worries all vanished as he smiled and hugged you.

WILL have a whole playlist dedicated to you. he likes to listen to that playlist when you aren’t with him, yk so he could daydream.

IS completely oblivious when you’re jealous. if you catch him talking to another girl who is clearly into him, you’d be upset in which miles would ask you about but you would just mumble “it’s nothing”. hearing this, miles thinks back to the entire morning wondering if he did something to make you upset. when you finally tell him, he quickly reassures you and says “i don’t feel anything towards any other girl who isn’t you. i love you and only you ma.”

IF it’s late at night and you can’t fall asleep, miles would come over with his spider-man suit on and picks you up, and swings to different buildings. then, you guys would land on a rooftop with a clear and beautiful view of the city at night and by the edge you guys would sit down, while miles pulls you in close to him, head on his shoulder, admiring the sight of the skyline. “it’s so pretty” you say. “not as pretty as you cariño”

MILES used to think that pet names were lowk cringey, but when he started dating you, everything changed. now, he calls you “mi amor” “baby” “my love” “cariño” “preciosa” “babe”

HE can not flirt if he wanted to flirt on purpose. he gets awkward and shy like 🫣🫣 this one time before you guys started dating, he wanted to make a move on you by saying “hey y/n, a-are you fr-from tennessee? cause you’re the 1 f-for me- wait no that’s not right, wait what was it again? i u-uh never mind.” and he scurried off before you could even say anything. “the fuck-“

WHEN you guys go on the train, he would pull out his airpods and give you one of them while you guys listen to one of his playlists (ahem the playlist he made for you but shh you don’t know that.)

IF you don’t do graffiti art, miles will take you to one of his secret locations and teach you how to draw certain things and praises you for trying your best. once you get better at it, you guys start going to his secret location more often and you guys just spend hours spray painting.

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling with you. literally one of his favorite things to do with you. he loves just having you in his arms knowing you are safe and sound with him. your soft and warm skin making him wanting to fall asleep because of how comforting it feels to just have you there with him. what he loves the most is having your arms around him holding him close while his head lays on your chest, listening in to your heartbeat knowing you really are there with him and that you are his and he is yours.

TAKES random and silly pictures of you just to send them later to you after you guys hung out and texts you saying “this one is my favorite.”

HAS a picture of you on his lock screen and his home screen.

that’s all for today, im tired and imma go and day dream about this boy :p

#across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #miles spiderverse #miles spiderman #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles x you #miles x y/n #miles x reader #earth 1610 miles x you #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x you #nah imma do my own thing

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devilishchaos · 10 months

Text

aventuras em Miami | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); filthy smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on a vacation with Rúben's friends, in Miami. Y/N surprises him with sex chocolate.

Warnings: Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), explicit talk, unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", size talk just for a sec

Word Count: 4 277 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The sunglasses that were once placed on top of your head, now sat on the bridge of your nose in order to block out the blazing rays of the sun on this record breaking, hot day in Miami. The sand underneath your feet felt soft, yet crunchy at the same time and very hot. A cool, light breeze had your hair blowing. The water was calm enough to be safe for those that wanted to play in the water, but still provided big enough waves for surfers to ride comfortably behind the scattered swimmers. In the sky there wasn’t a cloud in sight, which meant you were going to need help lathering sunscreen on your skin by your ever helpful and willing boyfriend - Rúben.

Speaking of Rúben - him, Ivan and their two friends, Nuno and João, were currently riding jets in the middle of the ocean, so you used the opportunity to go explore the shop that caught your attention while you guys were making your way to the beach. A sex shop. Exciting.

A red haired woman, approximately your age, looks up from the counter at the tinkling of the bell, signifying someone coming into the store.

“Um, hello..“ you say timidly.

“Can I help you?” she asks pleasantly, seeing you glance around the shop at all the various dildos and sex toys.

“I was wondering what these chocolates do..those over there..“ you pointed to the chocolate pieces, placed in front of the window, next to the front door.

“Do you know what you’re looking for specifically?”

“Mmm..not really.” you shake your head, “I’ve never used one. I want to surprise my boyfriend.”

“Alright. Good choice by the way.” she smiled and pulled out, from underneath the till, a tray with said chocolates on display. “So this is pleasure-boosting dark chocolate with high-quality natural ingredients to increase your sex performance. It stimulates blood flow, enhances performance and increases sex drive. Consists of 60% dark chocolate, epimedium, maca root and DHEA. One block consists of two servings - one for you and one for your partner. You take it, wait 30 minutes and enjoy your time.”

“I’ll take a pack, please.” you were really intrigued at this point.

The employee wrapped it up nicely for you “Have fun.”

“Thank you. Have a great day.” you smiled and made your way back to the beach.

You were back at the hotel and were currently getting ready to go to dinner.

“What did you do while we were jet riding?” Rúben asked you as he was coming out of the bathroom.

“Umm..” you played with your earrings “I..got us..something.” you turned around to face him as he was putting his watch on his wrist.

“You got us something?” Rúben looked at you puzzled. “And what is it?”

“Chocolate.” you hold up the package for him to see.

Rúben frowns, far away enough to not be able to read the words on the front “I could have bought you Reese's cups or something.”

“This is not..It’s a different kind of chocolate..” you grin wickedly “..have you heard of tabs chocolate?”

“Are they that fancy ass company that charges, like, $60 per bar?” Rúben puts his wallet in his pant’s pocket.

“No.” you laugh “These have aphrodisiacs in them.”

“Aphrodisiacs?” your boyfriend hums with a furrowed brow “Isn’t that-?”

“It’s sex chocolate.” you finally reveal your secret to him “You up for a bit more exercise today?”

“Sex-ercise you mean?” Rúben rushes to your side with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, giggling.

“We take them now and have to wait like 30 min, for it to kick in.”

“Oh, spicy!” he laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover “You want to take these now? See who can last longer without touching the other?”

“How strong can this little square be?” you grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places “Okay, break..” you snap the square in two “..bite..” you hold Rúben’s portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His trimmed beard prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead.

The chocolate is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. You don’t get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Rúben has wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the side table and surging for your lips “..bang.”

The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It’s intense and hot, the chocolate coating his tongue and his fingers that dig into your waist as he tugs you closer, making it hard for you to breathe.

“Mmf..Rúben!” you gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he’d practically stolen from you with that kiss. He’s eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging down your neck, to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly.

“Let’s get going or we will be late.” and with that you were up for an exciting evening.

Dinner was absolute torture.

Rúben always looks good in your eyes, but tonight he somehow looked even better. His sun kissed skin, peeking out from underneath his light blue shirt, made your head spin. His hand on your thigh seemed to leave a burnt imprint on your delicate skin. The air seemed to not be enough, no matter that you were seated outside.

“How strong can this little square be?” my ass. You were currently beating yourself up internally as you were all seated in the V.I.P section in one of the most popular Miami nightclubs, a U-shaped couch with a table in the middle and then a small section in front of it for people to dance and mingle. You were sitting in the corner with Rúben, his arm around your shoulders as you both tried to seem relaxed. You had to admit, with uni and the internship and Rúben’s busy schedule, you didn't really get to spend much quality time with each other. So this vacation was more than welcomed.

You were currently 3 drinks and 5 shots deep, laughing at something Ivan and Nuno were bickering over, when Rúben’s face suddenly got closer to yours as he whispered in your ear.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” you shot him a smile and pecked his lips quickly before he got up and left the area. You were kind of disappointed honestly, because you expected him to have broken your guy’s agreement two hours ago.

“Come on, let's do some more shots.” you yelled over the music. Ivan grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the table and lined you both up with two shots each.

“You guys are crazy, man.” Nuno shook his head.

When Rúben returned, he found you and Ivan hysterically laughing, the half filled bottle of alcohol he'd left you with was now empty and a waitress was placing another bottle on the table. Rúben smirked to himself as he stepped closer to you and Ivan.

“Hi, baby.” you rushed over to Rúben, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he grinned as you nodded, you both shared a sloppy kiss before you went back to dance with Ivan.

Rúben mingled with his friends, spoke to a few people and was enjoying his evening as well when you plopped yourself down next to him, his hand naturally falling onto your thigh as you wrapped one arm around his forearm.

“You okay, meu amor?” he turned to look at you, your head resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed.

“You look so good right now..” you lured yourself into his lap. Lightly grabbing you by the neck Rúben pulled you into a kiss.

As the kiss went on, it got deeper and more needy. Rúben slowly trailed his kisses off of your lips, kissing down your neck to your shoulders. He had rotated you to the front, with your back facing him. He was rubbing all over your thighs while still kissing on your neck.

Without any words, Rúben grabbed your hips and started grinding your ass on his lap to the rhythm of the song. You knew what he wanted you to do, so his moves soon became your own. You took over grinding yourself into his lap, moving your hips to the beat. You could feel him rubbing and smacking your ass, and you were glad that it was almost too dark into the club so pretty much nobody could see you two. Rúben was clearly turned on, you could feel his hard on under you, ever so slightly brushing against your heat at times, making you go absolutely crazy for him.

At this point Rúben was ready to take you home. He reluctantly slid you out of his lap only for the fact that his friends were soon gonna be flooding back into the section. He draped both of your legs over one of his and you leaned in to kiss him one last time.

“Take me home, Rúben.” you both smiled before excusing yourselves and leaving the club.

Rúben held onto your body as he navigated you through the club, your feet hurting from the shoes you were wearing and it was making it impossible for either of you to get very far without you needing to stop. Once you got outside, Rúben sat you in the car and helped you take off your shoes. The car you were in was luxurious, the seats were ridiculously comfy, so you instantly relaxed into them, your legs stretching out so your feet were resting on Rúben's lap as he sat opposite you.

Back at the hotel, you had barely put your bag on the counter before you were pushed into it, a gasp left your mouth as Rúben trapped you. Hands on your shoulders, hips pressed into your ass, firmly keeping you in place.

“I can’t believe you made us take these damn chocolates. I already wanted to fuck when we got home from the beach.” His deep voice in my ear.

“Yeah..” I whispered softly, gripping the counter. Your head fell against his shoulder, his hands running over your front as he trailed kisses from your cheek to your neck.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?” he hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes you grab the counter even harder “You’re so fuckin’ sexy, don’t need a chocolate to think that.”

“I want you so bad, babe..” you whine and you take his hand. It's rough and strong from all the hard work he puts in the gym. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him sit on the edge of the bed while you slip your dress off, leaving you only in your panties in front of his wild wandering gaze.

“Come here..” Rúben calls softly and you get closer to stand in front of him, in between his muscular thighs.

When his large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you inhale deeply. He gives you a few moments of silence and they’re anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated on whatever shapes Rúben's palms were drawing on your skin. He massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target. His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he’s got you.

Rúben gets up from the bed, your innocent eyes follow his every move. He places his hands on your waist and with one swift move you are already laying on your back, on the bed, and he is hovering over you. The second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress.

“I can't fucking take it anymore.” he groans, choking out his words in between kisses. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he’s trying to swallow it.

You’re having trouble focusing with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes and his fingers skillfully pinching at your left nipple. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck up and you feel his hard cock against your eager core, through his pants.

Rúben hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips “So needy..gonna grind this pussy all over me?”

“Ahh yes..fuck me Rúben. Please, fuck me..” you manage to breathe out he sucks harshly at the skin of your neck. You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over his bulge. He's straining in the fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Rúben tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.

He knows you’re aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre-cum. It’s the most sexy sight you’ve ever taken in, you will never get tired of it.

Rúben hisses as his thumb carasses against your panties, his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels your slick soaking through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten while waiting for him.

“Oh my God, you’re dripping, meu amor.” Rúben groans, his voice thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, his sexy accent coming through.

“R-Rúben, pleasee..”

Rúben chuckled against the waistband of your panties, his hands hooked there and he pulled them down slowly, the material making your legs tingle from how gently Rúben removed them from you. He shifted further down the bed so that his head was right between your legs, and he leaned in closer and closer..you jumped when the cool tip of his nose brushed against your core and Rúben shushed you gently. The noise sent a vibration through you and you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the sound, finding comfort within the very person, who was making your blood sing in your veins.

Rúben dived right in for a taste. He kissed your inner lips the way he usually kissed your mouth and you gasped, your hips arching up off the mattress to get closer to Rúben’s touches. He tested the waters with kitten licks, slow and careful, and he groaned at the taste of you. Like a switch had been flicked, Rúben’s hands curl around the plush flesh of your thighs so he could hold you open as he pressed his face into your folds, his tongue now beginning to explore your folds with a heated passion unlike anything you had ever experienced. You couldn’t help but to squeeze your thighs around Rúben’s head and the man groaned yet again, the sound sent another shockwave through your core.

“Ohh..Rú- Rúbenn..” his name fell from your parted lips like a prayer, as your pleasure heightened. You could feel the mattress beneath you moving as Rúben rutted into it at the same pace that his tongue moved against your core.

“Ah, baby..” you gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half dread as he sucks at your clit “..please, no..I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it.” he urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before diving back between your folds “Cum on my face, baby. Come on, give it to me.”

“No. Want- I want to cum..with you inside of me..please..I need- need your dick!” you reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze.

“You can have it.” he promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your vagina “Later.”

His nose rubbed against your clit with every movement, his hips stuttering now, the rhythm of his mouth broken, but desperate, and the coil within your stomach tightened. Your thighs clenched, your core did the same around nothing and that coil within you snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you, through you, like a tidal wave and for just a moment - your mind, body and soul all merged together and you saw stars.

Rúben is eager to continue even when you’ve finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you’re almost too sensitive already and you’re not waiting another second for his cock.

“No, no..I want- “ Rúben doesn’t let you tell him what you want - he doesn’t have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is in between his legs, so he surges forward, locking his lips with yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress.

“Oh, fuck..” you breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately “..fuck me, babe, plea-” he slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. The rhythm is relentless, more desperate than you’ve ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fuck.” he huffs, a grunting, groaning mess “Ugh..you feel so good. Oh, God.” he pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. His dick so hot and mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful too, as he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes in, until he’s slamming into your sweet spot, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you.

“Rúbenn..” you moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back “..don’t- don’t s- stop!”

“I'm so close, fuck..” he grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong and he doesn’t usually finish this fast. But with the aphrodisiac in his system you’re not surprised he’s cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it. In fact, you’re exceptionally aroused by it. The feeling of him fucking into you so eagerly, so needy - it gets you going like nothing else. You feel another wave of pleasure begining to creep in. With the constant motion of Rúben’s thick cock and every flex of his tongue over your neck, as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching.

Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Rúben’s skin is encouragement for him as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, his dick twitches like it’s painful for him to keep it together.

“It’s okay, baby..” you pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mark your skin “You can cum. Feels sooo good, ughh..you feel so fucking good!”

Your encouragement seems to help and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair and his thighs tense. You yank his head back with a fistful of his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and invite him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat.

The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It’s like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he’d tried holding in, busting from his head straight into your incredibly wet pussy. You’re already slick enough from all of your own release, but his own gushes from the seam between his cock and your vagina.

“Fuck me. Oh my God.” Rúben pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your mouth. He’s desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it’s no surprise that he’d taken his time to appreciate your pussy earlier.

He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you.

Rúben cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him. Your kiss is sloppy, it’s messy, there’s drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that’s what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you’re both sure you couldn’t cum more even if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin.

“Fuck..that- ” he groans, voice broken and raspy with strain “that was the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Mhmmm..” you nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely “..yeah, we need to use those chocolates again.”

“For sure.” he agrees, his beard prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast “I didn’t think it would work.”

“I'm glad it did.” you said thoughtfully, and you feel Rúben shift against your thigh, his cock already half-hard again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice.

“Baby..” you start, but he’s already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.

“I need- I need a little more.” he almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half “Babe, i need more..please.”

“Okay.” you soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead “Okay, umm..I want to ride you.” You replied. Uttering the phrase felt like jumping over a mental fence. You basically had to force the words past your lips. Although, once they finally escaped, you felt much less shy about it. Speaking so boldly to him felt very empowering.

“Fuck yes.” He replied and lied on his back next to you, patting his thighs for you to straddle. “Ride me.” He said. It wasn’t a suggestion, it wasn’t a question, it was a command. It makes your knees feel wobbly and your legs feel like jelly.

You obliged, straddling his body. “Watch me.” You commanded back, your eyes meeting his and a moan escaped his lips. He sat up on his elbows and obeyed, watching as you slid your soaked core up and down his dick.

“Oh my god, fuck!” His eyes widened and his hands grabbed at your thighs.

You took his dick in your hand and slowly guided it to your entrance, sitting down on him and taking him deep into your core.

“Oh, fuck..you feel so big.” You said. You felt a small sting as he stretched your walls, but carried on.

“A-and your wet little pussy is so fucking tight.” The words barely escaped his mouth as he was breathless. He stayed propped up on his elbows to get a full view.

You began to slowly rock your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone, feeling him twitching inside of you. You moaned at the sensation, but he moaned louder.

“Fuck- move up and down..” He said, his eyes glued to the spot that your bodies collide “Let me see my dick disappear inside of you.”

You gasped at his filthy mouth once again, but granted his wishes. You moved your legs around so that you could stand on your feet and began moving up and down, bouncing on his dick, feeling how he stretched you with each motion. The new angle gave you new pleasure, he was hitting spots you never even knew existed before.

“O-oh my god, baby-“ your voice was shaking. You knew at this point you weren't going to last much longer. And quite frankly, he wasn't going to either.

“Yeah? Feels good?” You barely heard him say through the fog of your pleasure.

“Yes, Rúben! Fuck..feels- oh, so good..” You were unable to form words.

You shouted, unsure of what you were even saying, as pleasure overtook your entire body.

Your vision went white and the world became a blur. You didn’t even know if he had finished - by the time you came to your senses it was all over. You had collapsed onto his chest and his arms were around you, as he whispered god knows what into your ear. You truly were on another planet.

“..so fucking good. You were so fucking good.” He praised you.

“What?” You mumbled out, blinking your eyes a few times as you grounded yourself, which caused you to giggle.

“Are you alright, meu amor?” Rúben asked you, a smile could be heard in his voice.

“Wonderful.” You hummed. You didn’t want to move. Your body melted into his. “I like filthy sex with you, Rúbes.”

“I like any kind of sex with you.” Rúben said as he kissed your forehead.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

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Hello Clan, I was wondering if you could do the glams (including Bonnie and Foxy) and the daycare attendents learning that a worker reader has hearing aids that are usually hidden by their hair or a hat and that the hearing aid has a sticker themed around them, for example: a lightning bolt for Freddy, a checkered flag for Roxy, a cupcake for Chica, a music note or maybe golf clubs for Monty, a bowling pin for Bonnie, a skull for Foxy, a star for Moon, and a cloud for Sun.

I understand if you can't do all of them

No worries! But I couldn't figure out anything for Foxy, sorry-

I did my best research on writing for characters w/ hearing aids, so if there's anything I missed/got wrong I apologize!

......

Glamrock Freddy

He's seen you around the pizzaplex over the past month, although at times he gets confused when you don't respond to his greetings unless he's standing right in front of you.

But he assumes you're just busy and doesn't mind it much.

When you're assigned as his handler to help him keep up with all the events lined up this week (photo-ops, meet and greets, performances, birthdays, etc.), he finally gets to know you on a more personal level.

One evening, you're removing confetti strips and candy wrappers from his stomach hatch (in summary, the pinata's string got caught in the mechanisms during transport and ripped apart when the hatch opened), briefly removing your hat to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Freddy takes notice of the little devices in/around your ears, and suddenly it all clicks.

"[Y/n], if I may ask...are those your hearing aids?" The curious bear points to his own ears.

"Yep, glad you finally noticed." You chuckled, but he didn't catch your sarcasm.

"My apologies for sounding intrusive. I've just never seen them before."

"Oh you're okay, Freddy. I don't like to make a big deal out of them...unless some guest calls me "deaf" as an insult." You muttered, about to put your hat back on when you notice him still staring at you. "What's up?"

"Are those...blue lightning bolt stickers?" He gasps. "They look just like mine."

"...that's because they are." You smile, turning your head to show him the designs.

His heart is thoroughly touched.

"Aww..you themed them after me? Your favorite bear?" He coos, to which you huff and hide them with your hat.

"Yeah, yeah..I'll admit you're my favorite. Now don't go bragging about it to everyone else."

Roxanne Wolf

Working at the raceway was sometimes sensory hell for you, with your hearing aids constantly absorbing the sounds of noisy karts or screaming kids.

The worst was the construction work.

So you switch them off sometimes when you're busy with a task, as hearing gets tiring--especially in these parts of the pizzaplex.

One day, however, Roxy walked over to ask if you could supervise Cassie's birthday party...only to see you blatantly ignoring her.

She would've been annoyed, had her eyes not seen the aids hidden by your hat/hair.

Oddly enough she never noticed them before...

She just taps your shoulder politely, getting your attention as you turn them back on. "Oh hey, Roxy. What's up?"

She repeats her question, but you still struggle to hear her, so you both go somewhere outside the raceway to talk.

Once you understand what she's asking, you head to the atrium to assist with any final preparations, but along the way she inquires about the aids.

"Oh! There's something I've been meaning to show you." You reveal the checkered flag stickers, surprising the wolf. And you smile at her growing grin. "Yeah, I knew you'd love 'em."

"They're really cool. So I guess you can just..tune out all the ruckus of the raceway whenever you want?"

"It does get overwhelming at times, so yeah..I had them off. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you-"

"Nah, I understand now. But listen, if anyone gives you trouble over them, you let me know. Alright?"

"..I will. Thank you, Roxy."

"Of course. It's the least I can do for my favorite human worker." She chuckles.

Glamrock Chica

The incident where Chica's upgraded voicebox horribly malfunctioned would have surely overloaded your already sensitive hearing.

You were supervising her performance, but at the first sign something was wrong you took your aids out and dodged the chaos that followed, leaving to file an incident report.

As a lead tech, however, you're summoned to run diagnostics on her voicebox in parts and services (as apparently nobody else wanted to do it).

You kept your aids off in case things go awry again, but when Chica wakes up, she's 100% convinced that she broke them and you're angry at her.

She was informed that you use them, though she's never actually seen them.

Plus you were closest to her when it happened. If her voice could damage that many STAFF bots...then surely your aids weren't spared, either.

"Well, Chica..the good news is that we don't have to replace any of your speaking components." You explain, not realizing her sadness at first. "But I recommend you don't sing for a while and stick to the guitar. Just to play it safe."

"Oh, okay....I-I'm sorry....I really am..." She sulks in the chair.

"It's not your fault. I kept telling them not to rush the upgrade, but no one ever listens to-"

"BWAK?!!" Then she jumps, surprised. "You can hear me! I-I didn't break them..?"

"Huh? Oh..no, no, no. They're fine, Chica." You reassure her softly. "They're totally fine. See?"

Taking one aid out, you show her the cupcake sticker you put on it in hopes of cheering her up, watching the relieved smile return to her beak.

Montgomery Gator

If any place in the pizzaplex is loud (besides Roxy's Raceway), it's Gator Golf.

Should the ambience or the bass of Monty's instrument be too noisy for your hearing aids to handle, you can easily take them out or switch them off.

You can always hear his voice given how he talks in general, but if he's speaking directly to you, you'll have to put them back on.

The first time this happens, however, he sees them for a split second before they're hidden by your hat/hair and immediately assumes they're earbuds for music.

In his eyes, you suddenly decided to ignore him and he's not happy.

"So that's how it is, huh?" He snarls, already being in a bad mood as is. "I ain't fun to talk to anymore? You'd rather listen to your stupid human music than mine!?"

"Monty, what on earth are you talking about?" You blink in bewilderment. His hostility usually didn't come out of nowhere like this. "I don't have any music in-"

"Then what didja just stick in your ears?!" He points, glaring at you over his glasses.

"..my hearing aids?"

There's a long, awkward pause.

"...y'know, the things that let me hear you?"

"Ohhh..that's what they are? How long have ya had those for?"

"Most of my life." You smile apologetically, seeing him fumble and backtrack whatever he said before. "It's okay, Monty. I should've told you about them before....you wanna see something cool?"

Showing him your aids, he sees the golf club stickers on them and grins, no longer as grumpy as before. "Awh yeah!! Wait....did ya put those there 'cuz you like golf..or me?"

"I chose this design because of you, big guy." You chuckle.

Glamrock Bonnie

You were Bonnie's main handler, so you two have spent nearly every moment of your shift together.

He's been aware of your hearing aids since day one, complimenting the cute little bowling pin stickers you plastered on them and chastising any person who gave you a hard time about wearing them.

Sadly you never got closure on what exactly happened after he went "missing"...only to discover his shattered body stowed behind Bonnie Bowl months later.

He had claw marks inconsistent with what Monty's hands could have possibly done (not that you believed the gator was ever guilty of attacking him despite the rumors).

You fought tooth and nail to get approval from management to repair him, working tirelessly in parts and services--even doing overtime just to bring him back.

When Bonnie finally reactivated after weeks of trial and error, he nearly looked good as new.

Except...he doesn't remember you, and there's corruption in his memory files from the night he left his green room and went into Gator Golf.

He insists he was following somebody's orders, but can't specify anything beyond that.

"I'm sorry..I'm not much help, am I?"

"No, but...I suppose you should know that Monty's taken your place in the band in your absence." You regrettably inform him, seeing how sad he looks. "But if it's any help...you're still my favorite."

Taking off your hat, you show him the now faded bowling pin stickers that remained on your aids, and he stares for a while.

Then you see his eyes flicker with recognition as a smile grows on his face.

"[Y/n]...thank goodness you're still here! I-Is Freddy okay?"

Sun

He's definitely had deaf kids (both with and without hearing aids) come into the daycare, and he tries his best to give them a fun and accommodating experience during their stay.

So right off the bat, he knows you wear aids and often tries communicating with you in sign language.

Whether you're well-versed in that or still learning, you appreciate his efforts.

But you sometimes have to remind him that you can still talk to him as you normally would.

You show him the stickers on your aids--a cloud covering a sun, to be more precise--and he's totally ecstatic.

And I mean "jumping up and down cheering" ecstatic bc now he knows you picked those stickers because of him!! Because he's your favorite!!

Physically he's there but mentally he's the "yippee" autism creature

Sometimes you gotta lower the volume on your aids with how loud he accidentally can be, and he notices this fast.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!! So sorry!!" He fumbles. "Can I add something to the stickers maybe??? Googly eyes??? Glitter glue to make them shimmer and shine???"

"Thank you, Sun..but they're fine this way." You insist. "I don't want any glue dripping into my ears."

"Right! O-Of course!! We wouldn't want that now, would we? No glitter glue going into your brain!!"

Moon

The lunar animatronic, on the other hand, takes a bit longer to notice your hearing aids (considering how dark the daycare gets during the night cycle, he doesn't notice much).

When he does, he'll ask you some questions.

Like how long you've had them, how well they tune out background noise, etc.

It's all out of genuine curiosity, and you tell him whatever you knew, taking one of the aids out to show it to him.

And only then he examines the star-shaped stickers on them, staring for a while.

At first he automatically assumes they're themed after one of the Glamrocks...until you mentioned how similar they are to the stars on his hat and pants.

Finally, the gears in his mind click together.

"So you're saying....my outfit inspired you when you picked out these stickers?"

"Yep."

"How sweet of you, [y/n]...they look very nice. Glad I could be your muse." He snickers.

You never see it, but he's gonna be gushing over this every time you're working in the daycare now.

None of your coworkers paid any mind to Moon. They usually called him creepy or avoid conversing with him should they absolutely have to cross paths.

But you go out of your way to see him whenever possible; and the stickers are just a subtle yet sweet way of reminding him that he's always gonna be your favorite.

#clanask #anonymous #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #headcanons #deaf reader #platonic

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sluttywoozi · 11 months

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em. u need to listen to me. we've all seen the recent gose and saw jeonghan and mingyu and ooooo jeonghan is THAT type of bf BUT!!!! we r all overlooking kim mingyu. mingyu who shoved his shoulder in annoyance. but mingyu who still held onto jeonghan's hand. mingyu who is a little annoyed or a little mad at you but still wants to remind you he loves you (pls write smthn like this if u can!!!)

-🐙

You're late. Again. For the fourth time this week.

That makes it the fourth time Mingyu has eaten dinner by himself and gone to bed alone. The fourth time he's had to fall asleep without your warmth next to him and your body curled up against his. Without the scent of your hair under his nose and his fingers tangled with yours. Without the person he loves most in the world by his side.

He understands that your work is important, knows that your office can't function without you, but is this deal really so pivotal that you have to be there all hours of the day?

He feels like it's been ages since he's sat across the dinner table from you and just talked, since he's gotten to be big spoon to your little as you watch a movie on the couch, since he's fallen asleep with you in his arms instead of on his mind.

And honestly, he's starting to feel a little annoyed about it.

Mingyu knows he's important to you too, knows you love him more than anything, but he's not feeling it lately.

It's nearing midnight when the alarm system beeps, jerking him out of a light slumber and letting him know you've finally made it home. He can hear your beleaguered steps echo throughout the apartment, noting that you skip the kitchen and dinner he'd left in the fridge for you to head straight to the bedroom.

Mingyu isn't proud of it, but he pretends to be asleep when you come in. He's not sure if you buy the act, but you brush a hand over his hair and drop a kiss to his forehead anyway before stripping your work clothes and taking a quick shower.

When you return to the bedroom, you just sit on the edge of the bed in your towel, making no moves to dry off or get dressed. It makes him peek an eye open to see if he can figure out what you're doing, and he feels the annoyance in his chest cool to a low simmer when he catches sight of you.

You look so small. Your shoulders are curved inward, your elbows on your knees and your head bowed, and the sigh you let out sounds so exhausted, it makes his heart clench.

He can be mad at you later. Right now, you need him.

So he slowly gets out of bed, knowing you feel the movement and not worrying about startling you as he kneels on the floor in front of you. Removing your hands from your face, Mingyu searches out your eyes and winces at the tears in them.

"S'wrong, baby?"

"I'm just so tired and I miss you and I'm sorry," you mumble, still avoiding his gaze.

He cups your cheeks with his palms, lightly smushing them together just to make you giggle, before assuring you, "You can rest now. I miss you too, but you'll be done soon, right?"

"Right. Tomorrow's the deadline," you cringe to yourself at those words, but shake your head, visibly clearing your mind. "And you're my boyfriend, and I love you, but I haven't really been acting like it lately, huh?"

"You're doing your best, baby."

"I promise I'll do better."

#🐙 anon you're so right #hannie was so boyf in that episode but so was mingyu #this was probably not as lighthearted as you wanted my b #✨emily answers✨#✨emily writes✨#seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #svt fluff #svt drabbles #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu x y/n #mingyu #🐙 anon

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thisapplepielife · 4 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Taking Over the Neighborhood

Prompt Day 21: Snow | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Fluff, Neighbor Meet-Cute, Snow, Platonic Stobin, Cat People, Eddie POV

Eddie hates winter.

It's cold. It's miserable.

And the snow.

The goddamn, motherfucking snow.

He looks out the window, and he's not sure he's even gonna be able to get home by closing time. That's the shitty thing about working nights in the winter. Sometimes, when you're really unlucky, you get stuck at work.

They get a few more inches of snow, but he's determined to make it home, come hell or frozen water. His van can just suck it up.

He has to drive about ten miles per hour, but he does make it home. Then he gets to wade through his snow-covered sidewalk. Fantastic.

His jeans are wet from the knees down, and he's freezing, so he jumps in the warm shower. Even if he'd really rather just crash.

The next day, he wakes up just after lunch, and while he's drinking his first cup of coffee, he notices that his walk has been shoveled. That's weird. He definitely doesn't know any of his neighbors that well. He hasn't lived here long, and his schedule isn't exactly ideal for meeting neighbors. Maybe it's some of the kids in the neighborhood, and he owes them money now. Which, he wouldn't mind paying, he definitely appreciates it.

Maybe he'll see 'em out working.

So, Eddie sits by the window and waits. Soon enough, a guy is walking across the street with a snow shovel. Eddie's never seen him before in his life. Doesn't know if he has a wife, a boyfriend, six kids or a dozen cats. No clue. Maybe all of the above, for all Eddie knows.

But, Eddie pours another mug of coffee, slides on his boots, zips up his coat and goes out to thank him.

The guy's just walking up the driveway when Eddie opens the door, and he freezes in his tracks.

"Hey, thank you, your handiwork is greatly appreciated!" Eddie hollers, offering him a big smile. "I'm Eddie."

"I'm Steve," Steve says, and Eddie smiles at him. "I kinda figured that either you worked nights, or were a vampire," Steve teases, "But look at you! Out in the daytime."

Eddie laughs, "Not a vampire. Bar owner, though, so lots of late nights," Eddie says.

"I hope you don't mind, I was doing mine, and just thought I'd help."

"I really appreciate that help, Steve," Eddie says, handing him the cup of coffee. Steve accepts it with thanks, and Eddie takes the shovel from his hands, and shovels up the small amount of new snow that fell overnight.

"So, a bar, huh? Which one?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses for a second.

"Hellfire Club," Eddie finally says.

"Oh, that's cool! Small world. My best friend and I have been there a few times. It's great. We liked it a lot. There's not a lot of queer-friendly bars in the area, and a new one is always appreciated," Steve says, and Eddie relaxes.

"I'm glad you guys liked it," Eddie says, smiling, "it's taking up all my time. Hence, the rumors of me being a vampire, apparently."

Steve laughs, and Eddie leans on the shovel, just looking at him. He's very pretty, and maybe, some flavor of queer.

It's Eddie's lucky day.

"You hungry? I can make breakfast? As a thank you for all your manual labor," Eddie offers, and Steve actually nods, which sends a thrill through Eddie. He hadn't expected that, not really.

But he ushers Steve into his house, and they both take off their snow boots at the front door, and then Eddie leads him into his kitchen. "There's more coffee in the pot," Eddie says, and he watches as Steve refills his mug. "Milk or cream in the fridge if you want some, and sugar in the container right there," Eddie adds, pointing.

And Steve doctors up his coffee.

"I should have asked earlier, I forget not everyone drinks it black," Eddie says.

"Oh, I like it both ways," Steve says, stirring his coffee with a spoon he got out of the dish drainer.

Eddie would be so lucky, if Steve likes it both ways.

Steve scoots onto the bar stool, and drinks his coffee while Eddie makes breakfast.

"How do you like your eggs?" Eddie asks.

"The runnier the better," Steve says, and Eddie pulls his hands to his heart, dramatically.

Steve laughs.

"A guy after my heart," Eddie declares, and starts frying some bacon, and puts bread in the toaster.

"How long have you lived across the street?" Eddie asks, glancing over his shoulder at Steve.

"Four, no, five years. My best friend, Robin and I, moved from a small town in Indiana," Steve says.

"I didn't know who lived over there. Single person? Family with six kids? A dozen cats? It could have been any combination," Eddie teases.

"Well, it's one bisexual, one lesbian, no kids, and 2 cats."

Eddie smiles, teasing, "We're taking over the neighborhood."

"The gays?" Steve asks, grinning.

"No, the cat people," Eddie teases, clicking his tongue and a big, black cat comes racing into the kitchen.

"That's Midnight."

Steve reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, and it makes Eddie smile.

Once the food is ready, they sit side-by-side and eat at the counter. Midnight eating his lunch in the corner, on the floor. They talk, and Eddie is happy he's making a friend in town.

Then there's knocking on the front door, and Eddie gets up to go answer it. That's weird. Gareth would just walk in, so he doesn't know who it'd be.

He opens the door to a woman with a bob haircut, "Did you kidnap my best friend?"

"Yes, and I'm force feeding him breakfast," Eddie answers. "You must be Robin."

Steve laughs from the kitchen, then hollers, "How did you even know I was over here?"

"I followed your footprints. And I saw your shovel, dingus," she says, and pushes her way inside.

Eddie steps aside to let her enter.

Maybe he'll make two new friends today.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #snow #meet cute #neighbors #bar owner eddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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kindestofkings · 6 months

Text

photographer era [2]

my lovelies this is a long one so get yourself a cuppa and hopefully enjoy!

inhalerdublin

liked by hshq and others

inhalerdublin A huge honour to be bringing our show to @officialslanecastle this summer to support the one and only @harrystyles. We should definitely shower for this one X

See you there.

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inhalerfan1 man this is so cool

yourusername WOOO ill get the boas !! @joshjenkinson_ @bobbyskeetz @elijahhewson @ryanmcmahon_15

bobbyskeetz oh lets maybe not do that

yourusername damn my small indie band aren't that small anymore

inhalerfan2 such a mood lol

yourusername posted on their story:

elijahhewson posted on their story:

yourusername posted on their story:

yourusername

liked by evehewson and others

yourusername these lads are about to SLAY Slane castle !!

📸 are all me baby ;))

inhalerfan1 AHH they were so so great

inhalerfan2 oh come on look at that first pic of eli, if thats not love I dont know what is !

inhalerfan3 they are making it hard to not ship em inhalerfan4 that your honour is two oblivious people IN LOVE (liked by bobbyskeetz)

inhalerdublin

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

inhalerdublin We’ll never be able to fully recover from the experience of playing Slane Castle yesterday. Thank you to @harrystyles for having us open for him in such a legendary place. And to every one of you who sang our songs back to us.

See you in November Ireland x

📸 @lewevans and @yourusername

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lewevans some gig!

thescriptofficial Scenes !!!!

inhaler2 inhalerry photo when? (30 likes )

inhaler1 @username you take the best pics of them please please go on tour with them!!

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

inhaler2 will ONE of you close the deal , for the sake of your fans !! joshjenkinson_ @elijahhewson for the fans.... inhalerfan3 so unserious you forget they just played SLANE

harrystyles, anthonypham and lloydddddddddddddddd followed you!

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername photos of THE harry styles that I took... me cause I met harry styles over the weekend

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ryanmcmahon_15 your supposed to be our photographer

bobbyskeetz welcome home cheater

elijahhewson is one lead singer not enough for you ??

yourusername ..... yourusername you start dancing like that THEN we'll talk elijahhewson 💔💔

lloyddddddddddddddddd coming for my job but the pics are so good ill let it slide

yourusername yeah im obsessed with you and your employer please hire me <33 yourusername i can boot scoot like a pro (liked by harrystyles and hshq)

elijahhewson

liked by yourusername and others

elijahhewson was a good weekend I'd say

yourusername wow yes well done that caption reaffirmed how cool you are !!

yourusername YOU JUST PLAYED SLANE YOU CAN BE HYPED evehewson such a loser

joshjenkinson_ did you do it for the fans ??

ryanmcmahon_15 👀👀 bobbyskeetz 👀👀 yourusername he did it for the fans FINALLY

inhalerfanupdates

inhalerfanupdates photos of eli and @ yourusername have been leaked over the last few days .... are we still saying they're just friends?

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inhaler1 if I didnt think they were in love before I sure do now

inhaler2 literal evidence of my parents in love <33 inhalerfan3 for real I feel so passionately about these strangers

yourusername

liked by evehewson and others

yourusername slow down more like .. go down/ soft sound/ midnight/ car lights ....

my idiot (lovable) friends are now my employers cause im joining them on tour in europe ahhh, a professional photographer some may say

bobbyskeetz war is fucking over we got ya

ryanmcmahon_15 about time!! gonna be lethal

lewevans ohh yeah cannot wait to see you in action!

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

yourusername too kind <33

yourusername posted on their story:

liked by elijahhewson

trumanblack just followed you!

authors note: ahhh part 2 which will probs flop, shes a long one! hope y'all enjoyed, please please enlighten me on your thoughts <33

#inhaler band #elijah hewson imagine #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson fanfic #elijah hewson x reader #elijah hewson #fake instagram #fake insta post

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rip-quizilla · 1 month

Text

The Boy is Mine (Hannah's Edition)

Thank you @carolmunson so much for coming up with this awesome prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

Click here to read the original prompt, here for the masterlist of everyone's different takes on the idea!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Eddie's romantic night with Chrissy doesn't go as planned, so you do what any good neighbor would do and pull him out of his pity party.

Eddie was an idiot.

He had done everything he could think of to make tonight so romantic that Chrissy would finally see him as something more. See that he was worthy of a girl like her. That he could treat her right, the way a gentleman should.

Up until now, their relationship had been casual; nothing was set in stone or exclusive. She was free to go on dates with whomever she wanted, they didn’t talk to each other at school or do boyfriend-girlfriend things. Eddie had been fine with that… until he wasn’t.

He wanted Chrissy to know that he could treat her just as well as her country club boyfriends could. He could be romantic. He was worth more than making out in the back of his van and secret notes stuffed in lockers.

Today was her birthday, so he’d pulled out all the stops- he’d cleaned the trailer, bought her flowers, made pasta with the fancy parmesan on top. He’d even baked her a birthday cake. Sure, it was funfetti cake mix from a box, but it was more work than Eddie usually went through for a cake.

“Make yourself comfortable, food’s almost ready!” he gushed when Chrissy had first entered the trailer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, eyes wide as she looked around the kitchen and living room. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual magazines and ashtray, newly set with old yellowed doilies as placemats and silverware, worn porcelain plates with little powder-blue curly cues along the edges…

“Eddie,” Chrissy had said, bewildered. “What…what is all this?”

He’d barely heard her over the cacophony of sizzles and bubbles that surrounded him in the small galley kitchen. “I hope you like Italian,” he threw a smile over his shoulder as he stirred the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove. “It’s your birthday, I wanted to make you a proper dinner. Even baked you a cake!” Eddie smiled, but then widened his eyes in alarm when he remembered that he’d put the cake in the oven and forgotten to set a timer. How long had it been baking for? Eddie couldn’t remember.

“Shit…” He hissed, yanking open the oven door as angry smoke plumed into the tiny trailer. Eddie waved an oven-mitted hand, frantically trying to clear a path for his vision to see if the cake was at least salvageable… which it wasn’t.

Chrissy sat frozen on the couch, hugging a time-tattered throw pillow to her stomach and toying anxiously with the fringe at its edges as she watched Eddie place a blackened tin of burnt cake on the stovetop. It was like watching a train wreck; Chrissy couldn’t look away, no matter how painful the scene before her got.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” she said, voice overly soft and sweet, as if she were breaking bad news to a volatile toddler. “You don’t have to-”

“Wine!” Eddie interrupted, excitedly (desperately) remembering the wine he’d bought. He’d read somewhere that red wine paired well with spaghetti and meatballs, so he’d run to the nearest gas station he knew never carded and bought the best red wine he could afford- which was the only red wine at the gas station- but he thought the label looked pretty, so it must be good right?

"I ran out of, like, nice cups,” Eddie said, voice strained as he did a little hop to reach the matching plastic steins on the highest shelf. “Is this okay? My uncle used to be into fancy beer that was apparently too classy to drink from a can, so he got these things. Kinda makes you feel like you’re in an old-timey tavern when you drink out of ‘em, though, which is cool-"

“Eddie-”

Chrissy’s voice sounded strained, pitying- Eddie didn’t like that. It wasn’t how he wanted her to feel on her birthday. “I don’t drink wine much, so hopefully I got the right kind! I mean, wine is wine, right? Can’t be that bad-”

“Eddie!”

He froze. He turned to her, bottle in one hand and a stein in the other. His heart thumped out a warning in his chest.

“Eddie… if I gave you any kind of false impression, I’m so sorry-”

Nope. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess! I’m sorry I burned the cake, that was my bad- I forgot to set the timer, and-”

Chrissy winced at the pet name; he’d only used it a couple times before that, so Eddie had assumed she didn’t have a problem with it… liked it, even.

“When you asked me to come over, I didn’t realize it was…” She took a short deep breath, huffing out the exhale. “I didn’t realize you meant it as a date.”

“I know,” he replied. It was immediate, reassuring. “I know this isn’t what I usually do, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve more than… than secret makeouts after cheer practice, and lying in the back of my shitty old van.” Eddie smiled at her, hopeful. “I can do better than that, and I’m trying-”

“I don’t want better than that.”

Eddie stopped, stunned. Chrissy winced again. “That came out… wrong. I… I mean, I do want something like that, maybe someday. But…”

Her words trailed off, lips retreating into each other as she bit them nervously, unsure of how to communicate what she meant.

Eddie knew how though.

“...But you don’t want it with me.”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with guilty regret. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you felt this way-”

“No, don’t worry about it princess.” There was venom in the name now, a bitterness that rivaled the smell of burnt funfetti that still wafted around them. “No harm done. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie-”

“Go home, Chrissy.” He turned his back to her, reaching for the knob on his stove to switch the burners off. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The venom had left his voice; he’d channeled all of it into the word princess, and now all that was left was resignation. It wasn’t her fault for not liking him; he wasn’t even sure he’d ever liked her. He’d just known that if he could get a girl like her to like him, it might mean he was worth a damn.

But she didn’t. So he wasn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Go home. Celebrate your birthday. It’s okay.”

And she did. She got in her car, brows pinched with painful sympathy, and drove back home. The spaghetti got cold and the cake was tossed in the trash, leaving Eddie with far too much pasta for himself, an unopened bottle of red, and a container of vanilla frosting.

And then there was you.

Your trailer sat parallel to the Munsons’, a modest one-person camper on the opposite side of the dirt path the Forest Hills considered a road. You kept a plastic lawn chair and a rainbow beach umbrella in your front “yard” for days when the sun was warm enough to relax outside. Today was one of those evenings where the light was still bright enough for you to see your notebook, perfect for watching the sunset and sketching whatever caught your eye.

Today’s trailer park still-life didn’t disappoint. Your neighbor, Eddie, sat on the concrete stoop eating vanilla frosting- all by itself- with a spoon as he stared dejectedly at the horizon. Sad as the scene before you was, you loved the sketch that was taking form in your small spiral notebook of the forlorn metalhead. As if the picture couldn’t get any sadder, beside him sat an unopened bottle of cheap wine that you had every confidence he planned on drinking without a glass. Sure enough, you watched as your neighbor let out a heavy sigh, put down the frosting, and grabbed the bottle of wine.

He started wrestling with the foil over the top of the bottle, sighing with relief this time when he finally removed the foil but groaning to himself when he saw the cork in the top. You couldn’t help but laugh when he whipped out a knife from his back pocket.

“Please put that away,” you called over to him, closing your notebook and placing it on your seat as you stood up. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Eddie glanced up, seemingly surprised you were there in the first place; he must not have even noticed you. You disappeared into your camper before he could say a word, reappearing a moment later with a wine key in hand.

He made no move to stop you when you took the bottle, easily twisting the corkscrew into the soft stopper and leveraging it out in seconds. You smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed against the metal walls of the Munsons’ trailer.

“Thanks.” Eddie said, accepting the wine from you with a nod.

“You can thank me by promising you’re going to eat something more filling than frosting before you down that.” You nodded to the freshly opened bottle in his hand with an eyebrow raised.

Eddie stared back at you, his expression hard as he raised an eyebrow to meet yours. “I’ll be fine.”

Oh. You didn’t like the self-destructive undertones of that response.

“Didn’t take you for a wine drinker.” you mused. “Let me see that label again?”

Eddie sighed, handing it to you begrudgingly. You recognized the label; it was the only cabernet you’d been able to afford in your early days of being legal drinking age. You’d never gone to college, choosing the starving artist life over classes you didn’t care about and student loans you’d be paying for over a decade. Technically, you still referred to yourself as a starving artist, but at least now you had a decent savings account and could afford a nice bordeaux now and again.

“Man, this stuff takes me back.” Eddle looked at you curiously, so you elaborated. “I used to get these constantly, it was the only wine I could afford to buy in my early twenties.”

“That can’t have been too long ago.” Eddie replied, a bit of a smile dancing on his lips. You smirked, handing him the bottle back.

“It wasn’t,” you said wryly, “but it wasn’t yesterday either.”

Eddie chuckled, taking a swig of the wine before immediately twisting his face with wrinkled disgust. “Oh my god,” he half gargled the words, promptly spitting the wine into the dirt beside him. “This tastes like shit!”

You laughed, taking the liberty of grabbing his bottle and taking a gulp for yourself. The taste was familiar, but certainly wasn’t pleasant. You cringed slightly and shook your head. “That would be why it’s so cheap.”

Eddie stared at you, aghast. “And you said you like that?”

“Never said I liked it, just drank a lot of it.” you giggled as the young man shook his head with his tongue hanging out, face scrunched up like a baby whose parents had handed them a lemon slice. You cocked your head, still smiling. “You know, whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to get better after a bottle of shitty wine and some frosting.”

That sobered him up quite a bit. Eddie’s gaze turned cold as he frustratedly grabbed the frosting and resumed shoveling it into his mouth.

“Yeah, well…” he harrumphed around his heaping bite, “...beats going back in there and cleaning up the biggest disaster in the history of failed dates.”

Your smile fell, empathy plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.”

So Eddie told you about Chrissy. How he had delusionally hoped he could be boyfriend material. He relayed the events of the evening to you in all their excruciating detail, and the entire time he waited for your face to mimic hers, to display the same sympathetic pinch of her eyebrows that said Oh, you poor, poor boy. How did you not see this coming? How could you have expected any outcome other than this?

But you didn’t. The only thing he saw in your eyes the entire time was understanding.

“I’ve had my fair share of disastrous failed dates,” you sighed. “Yours is by far not the worst.”

Eddie laughed ruefully. “Oh yeah? What could be worse than a guy who misreads an entire relationship so bad that he fools himself into thinking it was even a relationship in the first place?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” you scolded him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s not even true! From what you told me, you had a relationship with this girl, even if you hadn’t officially defined it. She gave you no indication that she didn’t want a traditional, romantic relationship with you, and it wasn’t wrong in the slightest for you to want that with her. The way tonight went down sucks to say the least, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong here.”

Eddie was quiet, and you were keenly aware of the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. When he made no move to speak, you continued.

“For all you know, that was the first time that someone had done something so romantic for this girl. It’s possible she was so overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness that she simply didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t appreciate what you were trying to do for her-”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” he griped.

“Well it should!” you retorted, voice rising an octave. “You showed that girl that she is worth flowers and Italian food and wine and birthday cake! So many people walk around like they don’t deserve things like that, but in reality we all deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about us like that.” You huffed out a deep breath; you were working yourself up over this. “Now, at least that girl knows the standard that every guy should have to live up to from now on.”

Eddie’s eyes were trained on you, ignited by the passion with which you spoke about the worthiness of love that everyone apparently had. He wondered if that passion came from a place of experience, or a place of longing for the sorts of romantic gestures that he’d tried to gift to Chrissy.

“Has someone done those kinds of things for you before?”

Now it was your turn to go quiet. You looked down at your lap at the wine bottle in your hands, remembering how many failed dates had left you home alone with this exact bottle on your counter. How many works of art had come from that loneliness, and how many times those works of art had sold for just enough to pay for that week’s meals. At least something useful came from all those lonely nights.

“No,” you whispered, “that’s why this Chrissy girl is so lucky. Even if she didn’t want what you were offering her, she at least knows how it feels to be valued like that. Let’s hope she chooses not to settle for less.” You took a swig of wine as Eddie eyed you curiously. “Lord knows I settled for less a few times, and look where that got me.”

“Drinking shitty wine in a trailer park?” Eddie supplied.

You smirked at him. “Well, I could also be eating frosting with a spoon.”

Smiling wryly, Eddie looked down into the half-eaten container of frosting, then offered it to you spoon and all. You eyed it for a moment, then accepted.

You wrapped your lips around a generous bite of the sugary substance while Eddie took another crack at the wine. He cringed of course, but muscled through, sighing as he stared at your little camper across the road.

“So does this mean I’m destined to become you? Single and doodling under a rainbow umbrella?”

Eddie’s tone held no malice; nothing but sarcasm and mock dread for his future, but you shoved him with your shoulder nonetheless.

“Hey, now, don’t be mean.”

“Do you at least have a cat or something?” he leaned into your shoulder, lazing his weight into you like a sleepy child. “I don’t exactly want to be a crazy cat lady, but one or two cats might sweeten the deal if I’m fated to be a trailer park bachelorette.”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” You laughed through the words, pushing him off of you and handing him back the frosting container, but not without licking the spoon clean and bopping him on the forehead with it. He may have been a little too focused on your tongue as you cleaned the spoon, but you didn’t notice.

“If you must know, I do have a cat.” you said. “His name is Fibonacci.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ve seen him in your windowsill. He’s gray, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him. I have to open the windows whenever I paint because of the smell, and whenever I do he assumes his favorite spot to soak up the sun and keep watch over his domain.”

That earned you a chuckle. “His domain, huh? He own the whole park?”

“He certainly thinks he does.”

“Well, now I know who to kiss up to in case I’m ever late on rent.”

You glanced at Eddie out the side of your eye, admiring the way the light played on his curls. “Y’know, Fibonacci and I are pretty close.”

“Oh you are, huh?” he quipped. He seemed to know where this was going, and chose to play along.

“Kissing up to me is basically kissing up to him.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded sagely. “It is.”

The two of you were facing each other now, the air between you shifting from neighborly to something more.

“And how might somebody go about kissing up to you? Hypothetically.” Eddie’s voice was a smidge deeper now, and the timbre felt warm in your ears.

“Coffee.” you replied, “At that little cafe on Kerley. They agreed to hang some of my pieces there.” Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance but eyed Eddie with contact that conveyed anything but. “Hypothetically, if someone took me there for coffee and gushed about my shitty artwork, that would definitely land them in my good graces.” You paused, then added, “And by proxy, Fibonacci’s graces.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding as he beamed. “I guarantee your artwork isn’t shitty.”

“Ah, you’re very good at this gushing thing.”

“I’m just getting started.” Eddie placed the frosting container on the stoop behind him, forgotten. He wasn’t hungry for empty calories anymore. “You free Sunday morning?”

Your smile matched Eddie’s now; you couldn’t fight it if you tried. “Pick me up at 10?”

He winced, jokingly unsure. “That’s pretty early for such a long drive to your place, but for you I’ll brave the journey.”

You giggled, standing to make that very journey back across the road. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.”

“The sweetest.”

And he was. Eddie picked you up on Sunday, 10 o’clock like you’d planned, with a bouquet of daisies in hand. You immediately began protesting, thanking him profusely but simultaneously insisting that he really hadn’t needed to go through the trouble-

“You remember what you told me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. That was enough to shut you up.

“You said we all deserve the flowers, the home-cooked meals, the birthday cakes- right?”

You nodded, clutching the flowers as your face began to hurt from the brilliance of your smile.

“Well,” Eddie shrugged, “you shouldn’t settle for less.”

#the boy is mine #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader

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081314 · 1 year

Text

Twisted Wonderland - Magic3 Battle Quotes

The latest update to the JP server brought a third level of magic for SSR cards, and new battle quotes along with it. Following is my translation of the new lines.

These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.

Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

♥️: I bet you underestimated me, huh?

��️: Sorry, but this is game over!

♥️: Okay, now this is Ace Trappola’s one-man show!

♥️: A totally legit, no swindles involved win! And I didn't even lose a single set.

Cater Diamond

♦️: Shall I show you my cool side?

♦️: Try not to overdo it, okay?

♦️: Don't hurt yourself!

♦️: Oh, sweet!

Deuce Spade

♠️: Let’s let our fists do the talking!

♠️: You think I was born yesterday or something?

♠️: Oi, quit being a chicken shit!

♠️: No way can I let ‘em see me look bad.

Riddle Rosehearts

🌹: Are you ready?

🌹: You've angered me.

🌹: I'll let you hear my verdict.

🌹: Do you honestly think you can go up against me?

Trey Clover

🍀: We'll paint all the roses red.

🍀: This is why I told you....!

🍀: Could you please not bother me?

🍀: Did I go easy enough on you?

Savanaclaw

Jack Howl

🐺: You ain’t going anywhere.

🐺: My fangs are sharp.

🐺: You’re about to realize… just how strong I really am!

🐺: Remember my name!

Leona Kingscholar

🦁: I do what I want.

🦁: Enough already.

🦁: You better not turn your back on me.

🦁: You wanna be hunted down?

Ruggie Bucchi

🍩: I’m gonna take you out with the trash.

🍩: I’ll make a sandwich outta ya.

🍩: I’ll flip you like a pancake.

🍩: Shishishi… And that's the end of that.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙: I'll be collecting your payment now.

🐙: Come now, what are you going to do?

🐙: It's time for you to say "Goodbye".

🐙: In short, talking won't do us any good here.

Floyd Leech

🦈: Here, how 'bout this? Ahahahha.

🦈: I’m gonna wring you like a towel!

🦈: Aww, don't be scared.

🦈: C’mon, let's see some tears in those eyes. Ahahaha.

Jade Leech

🐬: It appears you need to be chastised.

🐬: Even though I was so kind as to give you some advice…

🐬: Don’t be afraid. Heh heh.

🐬: *Dissolve into the foam of the sea!

Scarabia

Jamil Viper

🐍: It's a difference in skill.

🐍: Disappear to the ends of the earth!

🐍: Don't you dare get up again!

🐍: I'll take away everything from you!

Kalim Al Asim

☀️: This is a party, so dance!

☀️: Party's over!

☀️: This is the real deal!

☀️: I'll make ya dance for me!

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

🍎: Everything will freeze over.

🍎: If you underestimate me, you’re gonna end up hurtin’!

🍎: Don’t judge me just based off how I look.

🍎: Sleep forever.

Rook Hunt

🏹: I’d love to hear what you thought.

🏹: Adieu, Monsieur!

🏹: Love’s bow and arrow.

🏹: Oh, may your final moments be beautiful!

Vil Schoenheit

👑: Come on. **Charm me!

👑: It’s a shame we have to say farewell.

👑: This is…. My strength!

👑: That’s a wrap.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

💀: It's finally time for the main event.

💀: We're only at halftime, dude.

💀: You wanna take it to Sudden Death?

💀: I really just wanna be alone right now...

Ortho Shroud

🤖: Energy cannon, firing all rounds.

🤖: The target will be eliminated.

🤖: Magical cannon, maximum output.

🤖: The obstruction will be destroyed.

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇: I'll give you a good scolding.

🦇: Your little jokes have gone far enough, kid.

🦇: I won't overlook a single chink in your armor.

🦇: Let's get you off to bed now.

Malleus Draconia

🐲: You fool!

🐲: Bow down before me!

🐲: Did you really think you could win?

🐲: Behold the power of a king!

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡: I'll drag you in.

⚡: Had you intended to ensnare me with that?

⚡: I'm faster than light!

⚡: Stronger than a lightning strike!

Silver

⚔️: Sleep deeply.

⚔️: I'll send you off to sleep now.

⚔️: I have something I want to protect.

⚔️: I won't make you suffer.

TL Notes

*this one seems to be a reference to Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid". the mermaid princess turns into seafoam and dies at the end, and jade's phrasing seems to mirror how its written in the jp version of the story. i took this line from the eng version of the story.

**he's saying either "charm me" or "show me". the words are pronounced the same and idk if there's in-game text that accompanies their lines, so take this one with a grain of salt pls.

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zephyrstargame · 3 months

Text

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

#free palestine #esims for gaza #game development #indiedev

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prettyyoungandbored · 1 month

Text

Crushes [’You and I’ Side Story]

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Author’s Note: Takes place before the events of “You and I.” I was driving through Hollywood and saw a cute couple that reminded me of these two. So thank you, random strangers.

Nikki exhaled as he closed the door behind him. He was relieved to be home after a somewhat mediocre gig.

London was slowly but surely losing its edge. He could feel it and mentally, he was preparing himself for the eventual breakup.

He made his way into the bedroom, setting down his bass. His head turned to see Y/N curled up in bed, hugging his pillow. He smiled, throwing off his shirt.

He knew she felt bad that she couldn’t make it to the show. She worked a double at the diner for the second time that week, exhausting her. He told her there would be other shows. He wasn’t so sure now, but either way her rest was more important.

His pants hit the floor and he kicked it away. He lifted the blanket and crawled under the covers. He threw an arm around her waist, moving his body closer to hers.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, he heard whimpering.

Her whimpering.

He opened his eyes, hoping she was having a sexual dream. But then he noticed the scrunching in her face and realized he needed to step in. He leaned up and gently shook her.

“Babe, babe, babe,” he coaxed her.

Her eyes shot open as she let out a sharp gasp. Her hand was on her chest and he moved closer to her, putting his hand on hers.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he soothed her. “Babe, look at me,”

She turned her head to him as he pulled her into his arms.

“You’re ok,” he assured her, kissing her forehead. “You’re safe.”

She let out a final sigh. “Fuck.”

“Bad dream?”

“That’s putting it lightly. One of the scariest dreams I’ve had in a long time.”

She leaned back onto the pillow, the palm of her hand rubbing her eyes as if that would take away the memories of her dream.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers carding through her hair. “It’s over and you’re safe. I promise.”

She looked over at him, flashing a small but grateful smile. She moved her body to him, snuggling her face into his chest and letting the smell of sweat, cigarettes, and Jack Daniel’s soothe her.

He smirked. “I can think of one way to get your mind off it.”

He leaned his head down to see her smirking back at him. “Nice try, Sixx.”

He chuckled as he kissed the top of her head again. “Worth trying.”

She hummed in agreement. If she had woken up on her own without a nightmare, maybe.

“How was your gig?” she asked.

“Eh, it was a gig,” he replied with a shrug. “We were good. The band before us fucking sucked though. They were a bunch of KISS wannabes which made it worse.”

“You don’t like KISS?”

“I thought they were cool when I was a kid, but they didn’t stick with me like other bands did.” He glanced down at her. “What about you?”

“I had a big KISS phase.”

He paused. “That…somehow does not surprise me. Did Gene Simmons’ tongue do it for you?”

“No, but Paul Stanley did.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Really?”

She looked up at him. “You judging me, Sixx?”

“A little, yeah,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t have taken you to as a lead singer kind of girl.”

“I’m not,” she insisted. “I actually find other musicians who play other instruments in other bands attractive.”

A pang of jealousy hit Nikki, but he wasn’t going to show it. Instead, he smirked. “Oh yeah? Name ‘em.”

She propped up on her elbow, her eyes meeting his. “Eddie Van Halen, guitarist. You should know that considering I told you that I lost my virginity to a Van Halen song.”

Nikki made a face. “Yeah, I sorta pushed that out of my mind because I don’t like hearing there were others before me.”

“There was only one, Mr. Possessive,” she reminded him, poking his nose.

“Yeah, yeah. Ok, Van Halen is fine. Who else is there? You’re forgetting a big one.”

“I am?” she questioned. Then she snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah!”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Drummer!”

Nikki’s face fell. “That’s not-.”

“Roger Taylor from Queen.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “So those are your choices? Paul Stanley, Eddie Van Halen, and Roger Taylor? You sure you’re not missing any other key band members you find attractive?”

She thought for a moment. “Ok so there is a bassist.”

“But it’s not Gene Simmons.”

“It’s not Gene Simmons.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “Tell me more.”

She rest her chin on his chest, sighing dramatically. “I don’t know if you know him.”

He knew damn well where this going, but he was down to play her game. “I might.”

“He plays for this band London.”

He chuckled. “London…yeah, I’ve heard of ‘em.”

“So he’s super sexy.”

“Super sexy? Sexier than the men on your list?”

“Definitely.”

“Ooh. Ok, go on.”

“He plays like a god. Like his talent is incredible.” She snuggled close. “He has impeccable stage presence.”

“Impeccable?! That’s some high praise, princess. What else?”

“He’s got black hair. Gorgeous eyes.”

He hummed. “Gorgeous you say?”

She nodded. “He’s also really good at comforting a girl after a nightmare.”

His jaw dropped, slapping his hand on his chest. “It’s me?”

“Surprise!” she giggled.

He leaned his head back. “Wow! I don’t know what to say. I didn’t see it coming.”

She laughed, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Out of all those crushes, which one do you like the most?”

She snorted and lifted her head up. “Who do you think?”

He shrugged. “You tell me.”

“Do you need me to stroke your ego some more?”

“So it is me?!”

She rolled her eyes as he threw his head back laughing. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Obviously you do since you have a crush on me,” he reminded her. “So embarrassing.”

She pulled her lips back. “We live together, dumbass.”

He kissed her nose. “For what it’s worth, I have a crush on you too.”

She hummed. “And how many other crushes do you have?”

“Just one. You. You’re it for me.”

“Until you become a big rockstar and then have groupies.”

“Nope. I’m always gonna have a crush on you.”

She snorted. “Yeah, ok then.”

His smile quickly fell flat as his dark eyes softened. “Hey, I’m serious. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

The sincerity in his tone lifted warmed Y/N’s heart. She always knew he was serious about her, but every now and again, she needed a reminder that he loved her even if he couldn’t outright say it.

It was an issue she knew she would have to work on.

“And Y/N? I’m never going to let anything happen to you. I promise you’re safe with me.”

She pecked his lips before snuggling back into his chest. “I know. And I know you know you’re safe with me.”

His hand rubbed her back soothingly. “I know.”

#nikkisixx #douglasbooth!nikki sixx #douglas booth!nikki sixx x reader #motley crüe imagine #motley crue #nikki sixx x reader #the dirt fanfiction #the dirt imagine #douglas booth x reader

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