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neverinadream · 5 months

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Garden Of Eden (Part One)

Next Part

Summary: Some things were not meant to be touched and to Quinn Y/N was meant to be untouchable.

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader // Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Mountain Peaks - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, mild smut in parts of this fic, uses of the she/her pronoun, best friend's older brother!quinn, suggestive language...i guess, soft dom!quinn, pet names (baby, cutie...), grinding/dry humping, nipple play, not edited

Notes: this is just a little opening number, setting the stage for what is or isn't about to come, and yes, this is a very stereotypical trope but i personally love a best friend's older brother trope. anyway, i promise the next part will be longer and have more a flow to it. this is my first time writing for quinn or any nhl player but feedback would be appreciated

“Okay, but would you rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes?” The brunette's dishevelled hair tickles Y/N's face, the pair of them sharing the same pillow, squished together in the centre of her bed, as he tucks his head into the crook of her neck. He ignores her question, sneaking a kiss to her warm skin, the left side of his mouth smirking against her when her breath catches. “Q,” she squirms, nudging his side, “come on.”

He chuckles, rolling his head back onto his half of the pillow. “I don't know,” he shrugs, resting his arm under his head, “how big are they?”

“How big?”

“The dicks,” he replies, looking away from the ceiling to look at her, “how big are the dicks?”

She takes a second to mull it over, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Let's say they're average size.” Quinn stays quiet. “Like…five inches,” Y/N elaborates, measuring the size with her hands, “something like this.” She peers at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don't know what five inches looks like?”

“I know-” He cuts himself off with a sigh, eyes closing shut as it passes his lips. “I guess I'll go with dicks for toes - much easier to hide.”

Y/N rolls onto her side, curling her arms around his bicep. He hums at this and reaches out for her t-shirt, scrunching the dark material between his fingers. “Don't wanna caress someone's face with your dick fingers?” She tucks her head, forehead pressed against the curve of his shoulder. “Doesn't that sound romantic?” His body vibrates as he chuckles. “Just flaccid tips on cheeks.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Quinn grimaces, having to disagree with her.

“Takes toe sucking to a whole new level.”

“What?!” He laughs out of shock. “You did not just say that!”

She lifts her head, meeting his gaze, her lips parted with a large, toothy grin. “C'mon, just think about it-”

“I don't want to think about it,” he still laughs, shaking his head. His cheeks were flushed with a light sprinkle of a pink blush, that only darkens as his stomach growls. “What are they doing? Buying the whole store?” He murmurs to himself, reaching for his phone, checking to see how long it had been since his brothers had left. “How much longer do you think they'll be?”

“Why?” She let go of his arm, missing the way his mouth dropped into a frown as she pulled away from him. One leg swings over his hips, her knees resting on either side, sinking into the mattress as she straddles him. “Are you wasting away?” She teases, poking his stomach. “Going to suddenly die on me because Lukey eats like he's eating for two?"

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Quinn shoots up, his arms wrapping around her waist, his sudden actions making her squeak. He lines his face with hers, tired eyes snapping down to her mouth and then back up at her eyes. They flutter shut, hiding their colour from him, as he tentatively captures a kiss on the corner of her soft mouth.

“I guess I shouldn't complain too much,” he mumbles, moulding his hand to her hip. The other coming to rest on the side of her face, his thumb brushing softly against her warm skin. “Not if it means I get you to myself,” he adds, kissing the opposite corner of her mouth, his lips lingering until he forces himself to break away, “even if it's just for ten minutes."

She circles her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I think it's been more than ten minutes,” she whispers, suddenly scared to talk so loud. The right side of his mouth twitches, the rest of his mouth mirroring until his lips are stretched into a thin smile. “Your hands are cold,” she comments, tilting her face into the coldness of his palm.

“Then it's a good thing I've got you to warm them up.”

His mouth misses her lips, kissing her chin and heading south. His lips were soft, kissing down the column of her neck in a way that was torturous for the both of them. She whimpers as his tongue licks over her pulse point, and it takes every bit of strength in him not to leave a mark. “Should feel wrong to do this,” he mumbles, hot breath fanning her ear as he staggers kisses back up her neck, “but it doesn't. Ever.”

Y/N sighs, tipping her head back to expose more of her neck to him. He takes it as an opportunity to touch every inch of her with his lips. “Think I should be thanking Luke for clearing the fridge out,” she says, goosebumps rising on her skin as Quinn's beard scratches against her skin.

“Not like this, I hope.”

“Ew!” She gives his shoulder a soft push, her expression scrunching up with disgust. “Luke's like a little brother!”

He pulls back. “No brotherly love for me then?”

“Clearly not,” she deadpans.

“Wanna know what you are to me?”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, showing him half a frown. “Hopefully not like a little sister.” He smiles at her joke, subtly shaking his head.

“You're the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden.” He takes a deep breath. “You are the thing I want most but know I can't have.”

“It wasn't an apple.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it again, his brows knitted. “What?”

“You called it an apple,” she replies, elaborating on her previous statement, “but the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve took wasn't an apple.” Full of weird and often at times useless facts, she plucks this one from the deepest part of her mind. “It was just that, a piece of fruit."

"Well, it could've been an apple, an orange or even a strawberry," he states, pressing their foreheads together, "the sentiment still stands." His thumb brushes gently down the bridge of her nose, making her eyes flutter shut. "It's getting harder for me to stop every time we do this," he admits, the tips of noses nudging against each other as he hovers his lips above hers, "and you know I don't want to stop this. I want to do more than just kiss you."

Secret kisses when no one was looking, hands held in secret under blankets during movie nights, stolen moments in empty rooms, and looks that lingered for two seconds too long. That was the extent of Y/N and Quinn's ‘relationship.’

"I want all of you, Y/N.”

"You know all this fruit talk is wasting time, right?" Quinn could feel her bottom lip moving against his mouth as she spoke, drawing his gaze to it. "Time that we could be using to do something else.”

“You started it,” he smiles, closing the gap between them.

"That's a lie," she speaks against his mouth, "Pretty sure you said I was your forbidden apple." The smallest whimper escapes her mouth and is caught by his as he presses his hand firmly against the base of her skull, holding her in place. "It was kinda poetic," Y/N adds, Quinn sighing as she pulls away.

“You saying I should retire and become a poet?”

"You should definitely not do that," she's quick to answer, pecking the corner of his mouth, "I said it was kinda poetic, with a big emphasis on kinda.”

He gasps, holding his hand against his chest. “How can someone so angelic say such cruel words?"

“You're so stupid,” she giggles, joining their mouths together again.

He circles an arm around her waist and presses his body against hers, hoping she might feel the hammering of his heart as it beats against his chest. That's what she did to him. She made his heart beat faster than he thought should be possible. But maybe being in love was about doing the impossible.

"Quinn," Y/N breathes out his name, tipping her head back and tugging on his hair, the dark stands curling around her fingers, as his mouth slips down to her neck. "No marks, remember?" Her best friend was still an important part of this messy equation. "Quinn?”

"I hear you, baby," he replies against her skin, "no marks." One hand leaves the small of her back and teases the hem of her t-shirt. "But think how pretty you would look," she could feel his smirk pressing into her neck, "all marked up as mine.”

“Tempting,” his words shoot straight down to her core, flooding it with arousal, “but Jack-”

He cuts her off with a sigh. "I know," he mumbles, lifting his head, "Jack can't know.”

He touches his thumb to her bottom lip, pressing and dragging the calloused pad over it. The soft whimper that escapes turns the corners of his lips. "That sound." He does it again, his breath ragged as she whimpers for him. "Like heaven itself. And it's all mine, right?" There's a shift in his voice to something darker. It has her clamping her thighs tighter on either side of his hips. His hand slides along your jaw and tips her head. "You're only going to make that sound for me, yes?"

She nods her head. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He picks up on the moan she tries to force down but lets the curiosity die. There would be other chances to tease her.

"You know this is my shirt, right?" He changes the subject, seeking a temporary moment of calmness. Flipping their positions, he presses one hand into the mattress beside her, keeping himself hovered above. The material is soft, pinched between his fingers; he runs his thumb over a small but unnoticeable hole. "I let Jack borrow it the last time we were all together," he adds, snapping his eyes up to hers, a smile dragging out on his lips, "but I guess I know why I never got it back.”

“I could give it back to you.” He lifts his eyebrows. “But only if you ask nicely.”

He chuckles, the sound resonating low inside his chest. “Or I could just take it back,” he sits back on his knees, “take it off you.”

She bites her lip, heat trickling down her body. “Go on then,” she encourages, “take it off.”

In a matter of seconds, the t-shirt is removed and tossed across the room. A hard blush spreads across Quinn's cheeks and down his neck, turning every bit of him red, as his eyes land on her naked breasts. They were better than he could have ever imagined. Beautiful and perfect. He tries to speak, to say something about them, but all he can muster up is a grunt strangled in the back of his throat. It was like seeing her in a two-piece swimsuit for the first time all over again, just without the awkward and uncomfortable erection.

“Quinn?”

“Quiet, baby,” he mumbles, raking his eyes down her body, “just wanna look at you for a sec.”

Y/N had expected to feel uncomfortable letting him experience her like this for the first time, but instead, she felt bold and confident. It empowered her the way he would race his eyes up and down her figure, his gaze lingering on her nipples as they hardened. Propping up onto her elbows, she arches her back and sticks her chest out, letting him drink every inch of her in.

"Tell me you see how beautiful you are?" He asks, his voice growing soft.

"I feel beautiful when you look at me like that," she answers, staring back at the warm glow in his eyes.

"Good." She collapses back as he moves above her, his hands reaching for her face, his body dipping to kiss her. He drifts from her lips before she can kiss him back. "I never want you to feel anything but beautiful," he murmurs, coming back for a kiss and then another, only stopping when he needs to take a breath.

"Quinn?" He hums, taking your wrist against his lips. "Aren't you going to touch me?”

"Do you want me to touch you?"

She smiles. “Is the sky blue?”

He kisses her, nipping at her mouth as he pulls away. “Depends on the time of day,” he replies, grinning as she rolls her eyes. He shifts until one leg is resting between her thighs, causing her to gasp as he leans forward, pressing his thigh against the front of her shorts. The sound shoots straight to his cock. “I want a yes this time,” he lines his face up with hers, “do you want me to touch you?”

She runs her fingers delicately over his cheeks, raking her fingers through his hair as they continue to travel. “Yes, Quinn,” she draws his mouth closer to hers, “I want you to touch me.”

Quinn doesn't need to be asked twice, taking her mouth in a heated, messy kiss. He'd kissed her more times than he could count on both hands and yet he still got lost in the kiss like it was the first time. Thrusting his tongue, he owns her mouth, controlling her. He wanted this, and from the way she pulled him in closer, he knew she wanted this too.

She rocks her hips against his thigh, soft whimpers crawling up her throat, captured quickly by his mouth. Fresh arousal dampens her panties as he thrusts against her, the feeling of his hardened length pulsing against her injects her with a primal need. “Touch me,” she breathes out, nipping at his bottom lip. The metallic tang of blood burns on his tongue as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Q, please!"

He tips her head back, taking advantage of the exposed skin, burning a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. More whimpers escape her mouth as his tongue drags over her collarbone, driven mad to taste every bit of her.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he groans, cupping her breasts in his calloused hands. His cock twitches inside his shorts as he squeezes them into each other, mouthing something her ears don't catch before his mouth dipped low. The warmth of his breath fans over her skin, the wetness of his tongue coating it as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. “Like that, cutie?” He mumbles around her.

She nods, panting her answer as she arches her back, trying to push more into his mouth. He moves his mouth to the other, repeating his actions, sucking her nipple into his mouth. He smiles around the sensitive nub when she moans his name. It was music to his ear, something he'd remember when they inevitably separated at the end of the week.

Her fingers carve through his hair, holding tightly onto him as her hips buck, finding friction against his thigh. She throws her head back into the softness of the pillow, new heat flooding between her thighs, her mouth opening on a silent cry. He had barely done anything and she was already a withering mess.

“I need you,” Quinn breaks away, smoothing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

“Then have me,” Y/N replies, circling her arms around his back.

He surprises her, shaking his head. “Not like this.”

She searches his gaze. “And why not?”

“Because if we do this, I want to be able to take my time with you,” he says, his nose nuzzling into her face as he leaves a chaste kiss against her cheek, “not be forced to rush through it.”

Call it cheesy, but he wanted to create the perfect memory of this moment. He had a primal need to appreciate her, to take his time to run his hands over her every curve, to touch and kiss every inch of her body. To consume and claim her as his.

“Trust me?” The sound of gravel crunching under heavy wheels is heard over his voice, Y/N watching him as he leaves the bed. He picks up her t-shirt and then sits on the edge. “Give me a chance to do this properly,” he leans in and kisses her shoulder, her neck and then her cheek, “without the fear of Jack or Luke catching us.”

"Like a date or something?" Y/N asks, fixing her top. Jack and Luke's muffled voices inject some life into the previously quiet lake house. "Gonna be hard to hide something like that from Jack."

Heavy footsteps quickly approaching Y/N's door has Quinn feeling nervous. "We'll have to tell him eventually," he rushes to speak, sneaking one last kiss. She whines as he pulls away. "I'll think of something," he whispers, looking over his shoulder, the bedroom door opening to reveal Jack.

"You better go downstairs before Luke gets hungry again." Jack enters the room, flopping down onto the foot of his best friend's bed. "I'm not joking," he lifts his head to look at Quinn, "he was already talking about what he's having for lunch on the way back here. What are you doing in here anyway?" He glances at Y/N for an answer.

"We were discussing if we'd rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes," she omits half of the truth, bouncing her eyes between the two brothers.

NHL Taglist: @lovelynikol16 @chilwellspulisic

"Toes," Jack answers, with no second thought about it, "easier to hide."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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so-so-woso · 6 months

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i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

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

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

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

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

#woso #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #woso fanfics #woso x reader #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

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lincolndjarin · 7 months

Text

constructive criticisms

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day two - afab!ficauthor!reader x javier peña

prompt : virginity loss [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 5.1 k

summary : javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, oral m!recieving, fingering, mutual masturbation, viginity loss (duh), innocence kink sorta, squirting, reader is completely clueless when it comes to sex, javier is a dumb sweetheart in this, plot w a little porn lol

a/n : yippee! this is an idea ive had floating around for a bit and this seemed like a good opportunity to do it! easily the longest of the kinktober stuff lmao which is why i didnt want this to be day one cause i didnt want to set a precedent haha. also i hate this but it's october so like i can't do much about that lmao. AND the edit was rushed bc i gotta get to work so apologies for any errors!!

“What’s that?” You slam your laptop shut the moment you hear his voice.

“Nothing.” You hadn’t heard him come into your office yet here he is, looming over your shoulder.

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can’t stand the mocking smile on his face.

“Did you need something?” You do your best to sound patient.

“I’ve got some suspect photos I need you to identify.” He’s still grinning from ear to ear as you hold your hand out for the file. You flip through the pictures before tossing them onto the pile of paperwork you’ve been trudging through. You’re waiting for him to leave but he just stays in place behind you until you spin around in your chair.

“Is there something else?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glowering at him.

“What were you working on?” For god's sake, drop it.

“Get out of my office Peña, or I won’t process your suspects.” Thankfully that gets him to leave, sighing as he closes the door behind him. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back you open your laptop again, quickly closing out your tabs.

The last thing you need is for Javier fucking Peña to read your Star Wars fanfiction.

He makes your life hell around the office enough as is. He makes fun of how you dress, he only ever asks you to file his paperwork, (despite the dozen others who are just as capable.) and you’re pretty sure he stole your lunch one time. He’s just in general a nuisance. (And it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous and knows it.)

It’s not like you’re ashamed of your writing, you’ve mentioned it in passing to some of your friends around the office but Javier is different. He gives you enough grief without knowing how badly you wanna fuck Anakin Skywalker, you can’t imagine how much worse thing would get if he found you’re writing.

So you get back to work, trying to forget the interaction entirely.

You like to work late on fridays, it makes things easier, you don’t have to come in early on monday and no ones around to bother you while you work. You’re just about done with everything as you gather up all the finished documents, going from empty office to empty office as you leave the respective papers on each person's desk.

You’re nearly done, you’ve just got Javier’s suspect list to deal with as you step into the bullpen to deliver it you’re surprised to see him still sitting at his desk, everyone else is gone, only his desk lamp and computer monitor light the large room. You approach quietly, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible so you can just go home. You’re about to clear your throat to get his attention when you freeze in place.

You recognize the website he’s on.

You’d know that red bar anywhere.

There’s no fucking way.

You feel your face getting flushed, a deep shame settling in your stomach as you take another step forward just to be sure.

Archive of Our Own beta

And just below that, the name of your favorite song, but more importantly, the title of your fanfiction.

You’re so fucked.

You feel a mess of angry tears starting to pool in your eyes as you hear him groan.

That somehow hurts worse.

Not only is he reading it, but he also thinks it’s so bad he’s audibly expressing it. You’re livid, and humiliated, you should spend this weekend looking for a new job because he’s about to become insufferable. Knowing him, everyone will know about it before you even get in on monday.

In your rage you walk forward noisily, tossing his files down onto his desk, turning, planning on glaring at him once before leaving, hoping he doesn’t see how truly upset you are.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you’re met with. You’re expecting a smirk or maybe even a look of disgust, instead he’s gritting his teeth, his hair sticking to his forehead, a visible sheen of sweat on his face and most prominently, his hand haphazardly shoved down the front of his pants.

You both realize the predicament you’re caught in at the same time. You stare way too long. Eyes lingering on the exposed skin where his shirt rides up, a trail of hair running down his naval. Neither one of you moves until you finally snap out of it, squeezing your eyes shut and turning on your heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the exit when you hear the squeak of his chair on the floor as he calls out your name. You don’t dare turn around though, not slowing your pace until you’re out of the building and in your car.

Thankfully he doesn’t pursue you further as you drive home as quickly as possible. Hands tightly gripping the wheel the entire time. You can see your phone blowing up in your bag, the inside dimly lit the entire length of the drive. When you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot. You grab your bag and hurry inside, desperate to just go to bed and forget everything that just happened, ignoring the throbbing between your legs from what you just witnessed.

You step inside your studio, locking up behind you as you toss your bag onto the bed, shedding your clothes and stepping into the bathroom, praying that a cold shower will clear your head.

It doesn’t.

You feel just as hot and frazzled as you did before. Maybe he was just trying to mess with you. If that’s the case then now he’s just sexually harassing you.

Stupid fucking Peña.

You pull a tank top over your head and throw on a pair of panties before collapsing on your bed. You don’t want to look but you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t, so you reach into your bag, retrieving your phone.

Just as suspected you have an endless amount of messages from the man himself. You're about to start scrolling through them all when you read the most recent one.

[ I’m coming over. ]

Son of a bitch.

You quickly scroll through the previous messages.

[ I’m sorry, are you okay? ]

[ Call me or I’m coming over. ]

[ Please just text me back. ]

[ I really liked your story. ]

[ I’m sorry. ]

There’s about a hundred similar messages but one stands out to you more than anything else.

He liked your story.

Why does that make your face burn up?

You start typing, telling him that he doesn’t want to find out what’s gonna happen if he shows up but you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. You trip over yourself as you rush to your dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before peering through the peephole.

Sure enough, there he stands, he looks exactly like you’d left him, shirt untucked and askew, hair a mess, except now his hand isn’t in his pants. You’re about to reach over and turn your lamp off when he clears his throat.

“I know you’re in there, your car was out front.” Well, so much for pretending you aren’t home. You hesitantly unlock the door before pulling it open, plastering a scowl on your face.

“What do you want?” You try to look stern but you know you probably just look nervous.

“I just wanna talk.”

You’re hesitant but you open the door fully, letting him in as you return to your bed, sitting and pointing at the loveseat in the corner for him. Neither one of you speaks, you watch as his throat bobs, he won’t look at you, staring at his hands instead.

“How did you get my address?” You finally break the silence.

“Your file.” He says sheepishly.

“You can’t do that! That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“That’s what you wanna be mad about?” Fair enough.

“Fine, why did you do it?” You don’t like that he’s here, in your tiny apartment, the memory of him splayed out in his chair takes up all the space.

“Which part?” He finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze.

“Why did you read it?”

“I was curious.” He looks truly apologetic, it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Really?” Your tone drips with sarcasm.

“You seemed really defensive, I wanted to see why.” It seems genuine but you know better.

“You wanted to embarrass me.” You say plainly.

“Why do you act like I’m out to get you?” His brows furrow and his mouth settles into a frown.

“Because you are.” You say it matter of factly, you honestly can’t believe he’s acting like he doesn’t know.

“I don’t understand what I did that makes you hate me so much.” You’re tempted to soften your gaze, but the last thing you need to do if this is all just some trick is appear vulnerable.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please, enlighten me.” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“You despise me! You torment me every single day!”

“Really? I torment you?” He points an accusatory finger in your direction.

“You make me do your paperwork every single time, even when there are plenty of other people who are capable of it.” You feel the urge to stand and have this argument, you’re getting heated in several ways now.

“You do it better than everyone else.” He shrugs like it’s a valid excuse.

“Bullshit.” You snark as he puts his head in his hands.

“And I like the excuse to see you.” He mumbles before looking back up at him.

“You make fun of how I dress.” You’re quick to change the subject, not wanting to fall victim to his charms.

“I do not.” His voice pitches up defensively.

“You said I dress like your grandma.”

“That was a compliment.” He can’t be serious.

“How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“I love my grandma very much.” He sounds serious.

“You’re a nightmare.” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your head swimming with confusion.

“Have you ever considered that I just wanted to be around you? You assume that I just liked to bother you but maybe I just like being near you.” He stands as you sit up, a look of honest upset on his face.

“You expect me to believe that you did those things because you like me? Are we in middle school, Peña? You could have just asked me out instead of pulling my pigtails on the playground.” You stand, not liking the power imbalance of having him towering over you where you sit.

“I did, you said no.” He crosses his arms and you scoff.

“You did not, you can’t just make things up to get out of this conversation.” You poke a finger into his chest but he just brushes it away.

“I asked you out to lunch two weeks ago and you said no.”

“I think I would remember that if it happened.” His anger fizzles out a bit as he looks you up and down.

“I may or may not have thrown your lunch out that day so you’d be more likely to accept.” He gives you a sheepish look. “But you were so mad you brushed it off.”

“That was a serious offer? I thought you were messing with me.” He just stares at you, wide puppy dog eyes you have to turn away from lest you fall for this act. You don’t get a moment's rest though because as you stare at the floor a particularly harrowing thought crosses your mind.

“How much did you read?” You turn back to him quickly.

“Enough.” When you turn back to him he’s staring at his hands again.

You both know what that means.

“It seemed a little familiar.” He says softly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You want him out, now.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.” You’re going to look at job listings once he goes home.

“I think you should leave.” You clear your throat, nodding towards the door.

“I’m not leaving until we talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sit back down on your bed, your legs feeling unsteady.

“Well I do.” He takes a few steps in your direction and you immediately regret sitting.

“I don’t care what you want, get out of my apartment, now.” You head is tilted up completely as you glare at him.

“Do you really not realize exactly what is happening here?” You can feel his breath on your face, cigarettes and spearmint. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him.

This is exactly what happens in your story.

“You’re an idiot.” You whisper, willing yourself not to get any more upset than you already are.

“You wrote your story about us.” He says each word sharply as you grit your teeth.

“I did not.” Now who’s just making things up to get out of a conversation?

“Everything that I did to you, he does to her.”

You don’t have a response to that. What are you supposed to say? He’s right, straight down to the confrontation where he tells her he wants her and she tells him that can’t be possible. He hates her.

He kneels in front of the bed, moving to be in your eye line and when you go to turn your head he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I really did like your story.” You shove his hand away as he says it.

“Don’t mock me.”

“Jesus, what do I have to do to make you realize I don’t have an ounce of contempt for you?” He stands, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You finally snap.

“Maybe stop taking my shit and stop giving me extra work and stop invading my privacy and just fucking talk to me like an adult, you arrogant, immature, son of a-“ He grabs your face in both of his hands as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours, you let out a surprised squeak as he cups your jaw. After a moment he pulls back and you’re left staring at him dumbfounded.

“Now, can we please talk about it?” He mumbles before pulling you in again for a single chaste kiss.

“Okay.” You feel a little breathless at the abruptness of his actions.

“I really liked it.” He smiles now, the energy in the room changing drastically.

“You keep saying that.” You whisper.

“It’s true.”

“Wanna give me some constructive criticism?” You laugh but you can see his eyes flicker to the ceiling quickly and suddenly you want to press further.

“You know you quoted me word for word a couple of times.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” You laugh again but now you’re genuinely curious.

“I guess I thought the sex scenes were the tiniest bit unrealistic.”

“Unrealistic?” You feign offense.

“Well yeah I mean, it’s written like you’ve never had sex. They go at it all night and he never needs any breaks? And doesn’t she have like twenty orgasms? I’m pretty sure she’d be in terrible pain at that point.” He laughs softly but when you furrow your brows he stops. “I assumed because it’s fantasy that that’s intentional though.” He adds on quickly at the end.

Your embarrassment is clear on your face as his own expression goes to one of poorly concealed surprise.

“You’ve never-” He whispers, clearly shocked.

“I’ve never.” You finish his sentence, not wanting to hear it out loud.

“I mean, that’s fine.” His ears are burning red.

“I know it’s fine.” You mumble. “I’ve had opportunities to, I just… I don’t know, I guess I made it too big of a deal in my mind and now I just don’t care but I’ve waited this long and-”

“Cariña, it’s fine.” He interrupts you now, that soft smile on his face never wavering.

“Do you think my writing would be better if I had more experience?” You say it like it’s a joke but he sees right through you.

“I’m not sure, how much experience do you have just in general?” He stands, moving to sit beside you on the bed.

“Well I’ve kissed people before.”

“That’s it?” You glare at him and he coughs nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

“I’ve been busy with work, it's just, it’s never been a priority of mine.”

“You do know… how to do it? Right?” You smack him on the arm.

“Of course I know how to do it, you read my stuff.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“Oh come on, you said it was good!”

“It is good! Everything but the dirty stuff is really good!” You groan, putting your head in your hands, he sits quietly beside you for a bit, rubbing your back.

“Do you want me to teach you?” He says lightheartedly.

“Seriously?” You glare at him.

“It’s the least I can do for unintentionally making your work life hell.” He’s starting to sound more genuine in his over, it sends a chill down your spine.

“So what? We just… do it?” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of losing it to someone who knows what he’s doing.

“No we don’t ‘just do it.’ we do other stuff first.” He sounds amused but you’re glad he doesn’t outright laugh at you.

“Can you just- can you just tell me what to do?” You rest your head on his shoulder briefly and he runs his fingers through your hair.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes please.” You mumble, feeling a strange mix of aroused and nervous.

“Well, in one of the later chapters she blows him, right?” You nod slowly. “And you say it’s her first time doing it, she probably shouldn’t have been able to just take all of him in her mouth right off the get go, especially since he’s apparently nine inches? Which is a whole separate issue by the way.” You can feel your face getting hot all over again as he explains everything like it’s obvious. “If you want to start there we can do that.” He murmurs, trying to meet your gaze but you just keep trying to look anywhere else.

“How big is it supposed to be normally?” You chew on your lip, hoping you don’t sound stupid, you couldn’t be more thankful when he once again doesn’t laugh.

“It depends, but nine inches is a bit outlandish. Have you ever actually looked at that on a ruler? It’s way bigger than you think.” He holds out the estimated size with his hands and you have to stifle a giggle.

“Fair enough.” You lean against him one last time before sliding off the bed, kneeling in front of him. “So she’s like this.” You watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, everything is starting to quickly become real as he nods. You reach your hands towards the noticeably larger bulge in his strict jeans, stopping just before you touch him. “Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.” With his approval you gingerly unzip the restrictive fabric, watching his half hard dick spring free. He’s certainly not nine inches but he’s still intimidating. You don’t have a frame of reference but you have to assume he’s on the bigger side of things.

“You don’t wear underwear?” You scoff, trying to lighten the mood despite the combined anxiety and arousal pulsing through you right now.

“Not usually.” He murmurs, notably softer than before.

“What do I do first?”

“If you want, you can start by touching it, just do what feels right.” He reaches down to hold your face for a moment until you’re able to calm down a bit. You reach forward at a snail's pace until finally wrapping a hand around the base, jumping a bit as you feel him twitch against your palm. You slowly stroke him, just once before looking up at him, a reassuring smile on his face as you stroke him a few more times, feeling him swell until he stands fully erect. Almost absentmindedly your other hand drifts between your legs, you experimentally grind against your own hand as you continue to leisurely jerk him off, watching how he grips the sheets when you run your thumb over his drooling tip.

“What do I do next?” You look up at him.

“Spit on it, hermosa.” His voice is raspy and you sit up on your knees, a line of spit falling from your mouth onto the head of his cock, drawing a hiss past his teeth. It’s easier to stroke him when it’s wet, you experiment with different speeds, watching his reactions until in a moment of bravery you tentatively guide him into your mouth. You can’t help but feel pleased when his hand instinctively flies to your hair, not moving you in any direction, just holding you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter pre-cum as you open your jaw a bit wider, letting him slide over your tongue. As you take him deeper you feel him against your throat and you quickly gag, coughing a bit as he gently pulls you off. “Go slow, don’t take more than you’re able to.” You cough again, catching your breath before taking him in your mouth again, slower this time. “Use your hands on the rest.” He murmurs, the low tone shoots through you and you quickly go back to touching yourself with one hand while using the other to stroke the half of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth.

After a few minutes you begin to moan against him as you try to reach your own peak, your hand now haphazardly shoved down the front of your pants. He’s leaning back, his pupils pitch black as he watches you, his breathing unsteady.

“You think you’re ready for more?” He says sweetly, caressing your hair. You pop off of him, watching a line of spit going from the head of his cock to your lips.

“Sure.” You feel less nervous than you thought you’d be as you stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You feel all fuzzy and slick between your legs, your pussy aches with need as he takes your hand, pulling you onto the bed with him. You sit up against the headboard as he strips completely, discarding his shirt and shoving his pants all the way down.

You can’t help but take in the sight of him as he turns back to you.

His warm sun kissed skin, the wide expanse of his shoulders a sharp ratio to his slim waist. He’s toned but he’s soft around the edges and his cock stands proud against the thatch of hair on his lower abdomen. You tilt your head the way it curves, admiring it until he laughs.

“I want you to do something for me that wasn’t in the story.” He climbs back into bed with you, playing with the waistband of your sweats.

“Sure, what is it?” You lift your hips, letting him pull them down, tossing them off the bed.

“I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” You stare at him, a little shocked by the request, your eyes going wide.

“Why?”

“I want to see, I want you to show me what feels good.” You want to feel more self conscious but he’s completely naked and something about the fact that you’re still a little covered up helps you relax, with a soft sigh you gingerly slip your hand down the front of your panties. You go off of muscle memory, recalling what you would do if he wasn’t here.

Tracing your fingers in delicate circles around your clit, watching as he begins to touch himself, almost matching your pace. This would have been a fantasy of yours that you’d resort to when nothing else worked. Javier Peña in your bed, revealing some sort of secret attraction to you, you just never thought it would ever come to fruition.

But here he is.

Ravaging you with his eyes as you dip two fingers into yourself with a shuddering breath, his own movements stuttering a bit as you do so. With everything leading up to this it isn’t hard to feel the familiar heat building as you expertly push yourself towards it. After a few moments more you shove your panties down completely, wanting to be unencumbered as you discard them. Without them restricting you, you can easily feel that hot tightening sensation approaching rapidly. Your breathing gets heavy as you grind your fingers against your palm, you feel the familiar fiery sensation in the bottom of your stomach as you start haphazardly fucking your own hand, you keep your eyes on the way he fucks his own until you’re just about to burst and he takes hold of your wrist, stopping you.

“Please I-” You let out a frustrated whine but he shushes you with a quick peck.

“I know, can I do it?” You nod frantically, you’d like nothing more. He gently pushes two fingers into you, you gasp in surprise at the sudden stretch as he slides them in and out slowly, continuing to jerk himself off with his other hand as he watches how you eagerly suck him in.

It doesn’t take much from there.

His thumb mirrors the motions you did against your clit and that’s all he has to do to push you over the edge. Your cunt spasming around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, hot white burns the edges of your vision and you keep your eyes open long enough to watch as he squeezes the base of his own cock, groaning as he makes his own attempts not to finish. You're vaguely aware of him murmuring something that sounds like praise in Spanish as you get your bearings, he slowly removes his fingers, leaning forward on his knees to kiss you. You catch your breath through the kiss until finally he pulls back.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” His breathing heavy as he nudges his forehead against yours.

“Is it gonna hurt?” You’re more curious than nervous at this point.

“It shouldn’t, and if it does I’ll stop, okay?” He hops off the bed for a moment, searching through his wallet before tossing you a condom.

“Okay.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” You carefully tear open the condom wrapper, handing him the rubber ring with a nod, watching how he aptly rolls it onto his cock.

“Probably wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” You slide down the bed a bit so you’re mostly laying on your pillows as he positions himself on top of you. He still seems worried about you so you reach forward, taking his cock in your hand and guiding him between your legs.

You can’t help but sharply inhale as he eases just the tip into you, your eyes flutter shut and your mouth opens slightly as you sigh.

God, you wish you’d done this sooner.

It doesn’t hurt. You expected a stinging, or a tearing, instead it’s just pressure. When you open your eyes you find his squeezed shut now as he slowly works himself into you, rocking slowly back and forth. He keeps your foreheads pressed together, occasionally, bumping his nose against yours.

“Still good?” He whispers, a noticeable strain to his voice. You nod, watching curiously as he pushes his hips forward in one last motion to fully seat himself in your heat. His jaw is tense and he’s breathing through his teeth. “So fucking tight.” He mumbles before leaning forward, groaning into your mouth.

“Does it hurt?” You ask when he pulls himself away with a soft smile.

“No, it just makes me worried about hurting you.”

“I’m okay, I want you to move.” You look down to where the two of you are joined. Watching how he gently pulls himself from you just a bit before pushing back in. That’s when he bumps against that spot inside of you that suddenly has you seeing stars, your hands grip his shoulders as a moan slips out of you, the grin you’ve seen a hundred times before forms on his face, you’d once hated it but now it has you gushing around him.

“Does that feel good?” He tilts his head to the side, nudging his nose against your temple as you nod fervently. He repeats the motion, pulling out about halfway before snapping his hips forward again, your back arching when he slams into the sweet spot inside of you.

“Fuck- Peña, right there.” You whine, your nails leaving little crescent indents in the tan flesh of his shoulders. He gets into a steady rhythm with it, crashing into you with precise deliberate strokes, designed to make your head spin. He grits his teeth once more, his breath going ragged.

“Javier.” He pants, gripping your waist to hold you still. For a brief moment you almost see vulnerability in his eyes.

“Just like that, Javier.” You stammer out as he bends one of your legs up, pressing you into the mattress further as he throws your ankle over his shoulder, the new angle letting him fuck far deeper into you than you even thought possible. The soft and slow Javier starts to dissipate as he bares his teeth, his breath hot and heavy through his tense jaw as he slams into you. The second orgasm building in your stomach isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, it’s molten inside of you, threatening to burst as he brings a hand to your clit.

“Shit- tell me when you’re close.” He growls, your vision’s already blurring again as an unfamiliar pressure settles within you.

“I- I am.” You pant out, he accentuates each thrust with a grunt and you feel yourself slip as he applies the slightest pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re positive you’ve never come like this before, you soak his cock, a flood of your release pulses out of you as you strangle his cock. He collapses into you, your orgasm sending him over his own edge. You feel him throbbing within you as he groans into the pillow next to you. The two of you lay in a sweaty, breathless heap for a moment until he pulls out of you with a hiss, rolling over, his chest heaving as he lays beside you.

“Now do you believe that I don’t hate you?” He gasps out.

“I might need a little more convincing.” You grin, reaching behind you to turn your lamp off before rolling yourself over so you're on top of him.

a/n : I have a very serious love hate relationship w this.

#lincolndjarin #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier peña / reader #javier pena smut

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ccswife · 12 days

Text

Oh no.

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part 2: donk

pairing ๛: kate martin x iowau!reader

synopsis ๛: kate catches you watching your saved edits of her.

not proofread again pls dont eat me! enjoy!!

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oh how rainy it was in iowa city today. you lay in bed staring out the window, curtains pushed open indicating that kate had already gotten up. stretching your limbs and yawing you sit upright in bed, listening to see if kate was in the kitchen. but you didnt have to listen, you could smell the signature eggs and waffles she makes for you during your 'sleepovers'.

not wanting to get up yet, you sit against the headboard and check your phone. the time reads 7:56am. slowly you scroll through insta, snapchat, reply to some imessages, and finally..... tiktok. and the very first thing that pops up on your for you page is an edit of kate.

"are you fucking serious?" the words drip out of your mouth in annoyence as you remember the fiasco from the prior night. your eyebrows crinkle just thinking about what kate said, and how you guys interacted after the fact. but who were you kidding? the whole edit will be watched, and because it was a goooooddd one, to the favorites it went. of course you felt a little guilty favoriting it. it was to a beyonce song— you couldn't remember the name, and it most definitely isn't released because if it was... damn it'd be #1 for years. the song was very catchy, and the lyrics made you giggle while you thought of kate.

sliding out of bed, you make your way to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth- maybe run a brush through your hair? yeah no, definitely run a brush through it. finishing up in the bathroom, kate calls from the kitchen.

"y/n!!! the waffles and eggs are ready!" her voice ecos through the apartment.

"im coming!" you yell back, half jogging into the kitchen, as the aroma was absolutely delightful. kate always made such good breakfasts. as you get there, she turns and pushes a plate to your spot, inquiring you.

"you hungry? because i made a lot, i mightve used all your eggs" her beautiful blue eyes make contact with yours, and she smiles. "thats not even a question just sit, cutie" the last part coming out quickly.

----now playing 'donk' by beyonce----

you slowly sit down, slightly flushed and pull the syrup over to drown your waffles. taking the first bite you watch her frame move side to side, obviously looking for something.

"i bought you more hot sauce, its in the left cabinet on the bottom shelf" you say, mouth full of waffle and pointing with your fork. kate gasps to herself and pulls the bottle of chalupa hot sauce out of the cabinet, turning around and beaming at you. it was very obvious she was happy.

"for me ??? you shouldn't have!!" she plops down in her seat next to you and gets busy (eating ofc). the two of you silently eat, an occasional sniff or thud of the counter from the utensils. you think back to the song from the edit you saw earlier, the tune getting stuck in your head.

"i think i wanna go back to school, and have my locker full of pictures of you~" the words flow out of your mouth, not thinking if kate knew the song or not.

she whips her head in your direction, eyebrows pushed together.

"what? are you serious?"

before realizing she is genuinely confused you keep singing, dancing around in your seat, hips moving.

"so give me that A in biology, im graduatin' soon~"

kates still looking at you confused, as you continue you close your eyes and move your fingers, pointing at kate and pushing her shoulder. of course you skip parts in the song, and mess up the lyrics since you'd only listened to it this morning.

"dont, get on get on, get on get on, uh huh~"

kate continues to push her eyebrows further together— if thats even possible, eventually reaching her hand out to grab your arm. you stop and look at her straight on.

"what? whats wrong? do you not like that song?" you chrip out, nervous that shes mad, or something.

"song? thats a song? are you sure?" kate says. "that didn't sound like a song. are you just saying that?"

now its your turn to push your eyebrows together. your mouth twists and you answer her honestly.

"why would i just be saying that? i heard it on tiktok before i got out of bed and its suck in my head. i was actually gonna add it to our playlist," you drop your hand down, but she keeps her grip tight on it. her face relaxes a bit. "but i wont if you dont like it"

kate smiles a little and opens up her mouth to answer, but closes it and shuts her eyes. "i thought— well nevermind. i like it, you can add it if you want, plum"

again your face goes red. plum? she hasnt called you that since sophomore year. the year you decided to never tell her how you actually felt. kates been usuing nicknames way more often, but this one especially caught you off gaurd. "ok then, i will" a sweet smile creeps onto your face.

kates grip on your arm loosens, and she pulls her hand away. slowly though, making sure you guys are touching for as long as possible. you both giggle like schoolgirls at the action.

the day goes on pretty regularly after that. practice, lift, some classes, etc. you get home and hop into the shower, taking a decent amount of time, deeming it reasonable because of the hard day you had. the clock hits 6 and you decide to cook some dinner and wind down on the couch. aimlessly scrolling on tiktok (again? bad reader...smh), you come across a live stream. kates teammate kennise was on with jada, caitlin, and kate. they all seemed to be in caitlins apartment. you locked your eyes on kate, and occasionally looked down to see the comments. and wow, were people going crazy. asking about if they have girlfriends, what game they are most excited for, if they think theyll win the championship this year etc. one specific question popped up a couple of times tho.

'DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT THE EDITS?'

'KATE HAVE YOU SEEN THE EDITS!!??'

'do you think they know guys???? omg'

oh no. you prayed to god that kate didn't see the comments. and if she did? you wished for mercy on your soul for what would come out of her beautiful mouth. and then it happened..

kate read one of the comments aloud.

"do i know about the edits?" she rephrased. "yea i do. a girl i know has a whole folder of edits and i accidentally saw it," she stratches her head and smirks, side eyeing caitlin who shoves kates shoulder.

"they are cool tho, i appreciate you guys supporting us."

you stared at your phone in disbelief. a girl i know? A GIRL I KNOW? as if! as if you dont spend every waking moment together? as if you dont look at eachother a little longer than you should? and that you are way too touchy to just be really close friends?!! its not that you want her to call you her girlfriend or anything (yes you do girl cmon) , but acknowledging that youre her best friend wouldve been a litte better. the fans would understand that. they know you! they see you in the lives and tiktoks! hell youre all over their instagrams! and they know you guys are incredibly close, so it would make sense if you saved them to make fun of her or to do something silly.

you turned the live off and stared at the black tv screen for a couple minutes. the past two days have made you think about your feelings for kate more deeply than you ever have before. and about hers for you. a text buzz comes from your lap, and you read the contact name.

bear🐻

you will never guess what someone just asked on live!!

you stare at the text, not wanting to reply. a simple "what?" is all you answer. getting up, you turn all the lights off and make your way into bed. ignoring whatever kate sent back, you decide its best to distance yourself from her, in lieu of accidentally telling her how you feel, or potentially just ruining the whole friendship.

gosh tomorrow is going to be hard.

as you fall into a deep sleep, your phone buzzes consistently with a specific rhythm, indicating kate is calling. but you ignore it, sticking by your decision. although part of you knew it was petty to be mad at what she said, your stubbornness stopped you from getting over yourself and communicating how you felt about it to her. maybe youll feel better when you wake up. maybe not.

bear🐻

goodnight , plum. i love you

delivered 10:02pm

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A/N q(❂‿❂)p : THE PLOT THICKENS!! this chapters kinda stupid BUT— i tried on this one! kind of just let my brain go crazy but i might go back and edit some stuff. lmk what u guys think😔🤲. i hope this part made sense lolololol. next part soon?🙈 love u goobs. TOODLES!

#wbb #iowa wbb #kate martin #wlw #kate martin x reader #caitlin clark #x reader

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fillinforlater · 10 months

Text

The Gamer and the Pornstar

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura, Song Hayoung

Length: 3725 words

Tags: one-night-stand turned porn turned friendship, gaming buddies, shy yet prepared, ANAL, missionary, GAPING, anal creampie, slow sex, love making, SLW, making out, extremely loud moaning, cumshots?

TW: barely edited, kind of rushed

Inspiration: @gangplanksorenji and @praeluxius because you know: GAPE KKURA and SLW gang

(A/N: This popped up in my mind and for some reason was easier to write than all my other drafts. An almost plotless mess mess mess mess mess, but I hope you enjoy it.)

“Hey, you wanna come over?”

It all started a couple of months ago, when an adorable young lady tapped on your shoulder. Her name was Hayoung and she immediately started to shower you with compliments. Your body's imminent reaction was to blush and increase your heart rate, but after a while you assumed there was a catch. Your intuition was right.

“Thank you for all the kind words,” you said. “But I bet you’re not doing this just to brighten my day at this boring-ass party.”

“You’re right,” Hayoung responds with a huge smile on her small face. “Let me be blunt—”

Oh, she was blunt. Hayoung, you see, is a self-made porn star, using a brand new site called Only Fans to promote her lewd, addictive videos (her words). However, she needs to spice things up, try different sizes and girths in her holes, so she is going around and finding attractive guys who’d like to help her (once again, her words).

Hayoung, pretty and pure looking, it all changed with every new word dropping from her lips like the pin of a grenade before she exploded onto you, arms wrapped around your nape, her lips on yours. You turned into the Flash: in the blink of an eye you found yourself in her apartment, balls deep in her cunt, surrounded by two cameras. Hayoung loved to moan and scream over the top, the neighborhood surely knew of her new hobby right from the get go, and she had them all inside her (her words, her stupidly lewd words).

Needless to say, you had a great time, and after wrapping up the shooting, you wanted to leave the apartment. The mind-blowing sex with Hayoung really had your mind blown, because instead of taking the exit, you entered another bedroom. Hayoung was sharing the apartment with someone else, a poor roommate who had to listen to the endless amounts of sex coming from the walls behind her.

To block off all the noise she was wearing a large headset and her entire focus was on this game, League of Legends. You were familiar with the game and started watching her. She must not have noticed you, even when you inched closer as the game got more intense. Her defense was on point, the towers did not fall until one of her chips-grease covered fingers slipped off and she eventually lost.

Both of you sighed—and then she started screaming as she finally noticed your presence. That’s how you met Sakura.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

You put your ear on the door. No screaming, no moaning. Either Hayoung is trying out choking or a ball gag or she is not shooting anything today. The last one is the least likely, yet you still give it a shot and knock a couple of times. Quick taps of tiny feet can be heard.

“Hello you guys—oh, it’s just you,” she sighs in disappointment, the horniness on her face vanishing in a moment's notice.

“Nice to see you, Hayoung,” you sarcastically respond and make your way past the small girl. “I see, you’re waiting for someone.”

“Yeah, but not for you. You’re only hanging around with Sakura-unnie all the damn time.”

“Hey! I thought you wanted to try new cocks all the time.”

Before you can reach the door to Sakura’s room, Hayoung grabs your wrist and stamps your foot. It does not hurt one bit, as her feet are naked (to be honest, she is almost fully naked, except for shorts that barely cover 80% of her ass and a bikini top to show of her small breasts) and you’re still wearing shoes.

“That does not mean you couldn’t be useful to me,” Hayoung whispers sultrily, her fingers fiddling with your zipper, pulling it down and up.

“I think I’ll pass for now. Don’t wanna keep your Unnie waiting,” you respond and remove her hand without resisting the temptation to feel more of the silky smooth skin on her arm.

“If you’re not gonna undress for me, at least take off your shoes for her.”

“S-sure, sorry.”

Kick them off then kick in the door. The way Sakura jumps always amuses you. Her shocked expression with huge, round eyes and a wide open mouth is just gold.

"Stop doing that!" she shouts and quickly turns back to her game. Sakura looks tiny in the gaming chair, the black fabric swallowing both her pale skin and white outfit. Her raven hair is a tangled mess, weaving through every possible opening of her pink headphones.

"How is it going?" you ask and lean onto the table, something she despises and you know that. Luckily, there are no more snacks next to her colorful keyboard. Living off of chips and chocolate could have really ruined her health, so you had to help her get rid of this habit.

What she won't get rid of is the large bottle of Pepsi. You tried to convince her of drinking water, but she wouldn’t budge a centimeter on that. Even Pepsi Maxx seems to be a no-go for her, so the dark, sugary liquid still sits on her table—until you close the lit and hide it behind your back.

“Put it back,” Sakura barks, eyes switching in between your face and the match in rapid intervals. She taps her feet in annoyance, you grin.

“Only if you answer me~” you tease her.

“It’s been going good, until you joined. We are four thousand gold ahead, everything is working, so please, don’t ruin this for me.”

You put your hands up in defeat and place the bottle back down. Then everything happens rather quickly: Sakura stands up and you immediately get on her chair, spread your legs far enough so the japanese girl can get in between them and she does so. Just a second, Sakura’s rhythm is not interrupted as the team fight starts.

“Let’s get it,” you whisper, while Sakura still adjusts herself on your lap. The two of you, though there might be a lot of bickering on the outside, have become a coordinated team. After that fateful incident a couple of months ago, you came over more often to watch Sakura play. She was very talented, but her erratic behavior has led to her losing games she should have won, so you started to assist her.

Sakura sits on your lap. This has multiple reasons. One is that you can easily hand her something to drink while she still has both her hands occupied with the game. The second is that you can easily grab her and keep her down when she has one of her outbursts again. Sakura is used to jumping up from her chair and then lose control and focus on her character. To prevent that, you can hold her light frame down. The final reason is that after a while, Sakura finds your lap more comfortable than the chair.

Why did you agree to taming this small lioness during her gaming sessions? For starters, Sakura is gorgeous. Her face, her body, everything is pretty and basically perfect, Who wouldn’t like to have her sit on their lap? Then comes her impeccable smell. Ever since you got rid of the greasy snacks, Sakura’s true odor of sweet sweat and even sweeter cherries has you in a dazed state.

This is your favorite job. You can’t help but smile stupidly while handing Sakura another drink or adjusting her posture, while watching an intense match of your favorite game. It’s literally perfect. If only someone could turn down the volume of Hayoungs porny moans coming from her room—who are you kidding, she sounds hot.

“Okay, let’s go to the base. Thirty more seconds of buff, go go!”

Sakura is winning. You try everything in your power to keep it that way. Your hands find their way to her slim waist, holding it firmly so she doesn’t stand up. On some days, she wears a crop top, exposing her amazing midriff, which makes holding onto her like an ascend to heaven. Sadly, she only wears a pretty, yet modest dress so you have to live with feeling silk rather than silky skin.

“A couple more hits, come one!”

Wrap your arms around Sakura as she almost flies off the chair in enthusiasm. Even as her teammates die at the hits of the enemy, she is able to close out the game with fantastic gameplay. Although you could let her go the second she closed out the game, you still hold her tight and she falls backwards onto your chest.

“Good job, Kkura,” you say with a smile as she struggles to get her headphones off. Her messy black hair falls over her face like drapes and the way she frees her vision is beyond beautiful. Sakura is a goddess, she plays, looks and smells like one.

“You weren’t so bad either. Thank you,” she responds and stays. She does not stand up or shift away. She stays in your tight embrace.

“S-so shall we—”

“Fuck, yes! Fill my pussy with your big cocks, ah!”

You can feel your cheeks burning. Sakura’s are doing the same. Hayoungs never ending screams of pleasure make the two of you tense up in awkwardness. You’d love to say something witty, but everything feels so wrong, especially with how your fantasy leaps into dangerous territory.

“Sh-she is unbelievable,” Sakura laughs awkwardly. “She said something about inviting t-t-ten guys a-and… yeah.”

“She is crazy.”

More silence from you and Sakura, while a whole choir of guys starts to groan in the background, only interrupted by Hayoungs demand for rougher, faster, deeper sex.

“Yes, fuck my ass! Stretch my hole with your—yes, right there! I’m cumming!”

Sakura melts in your grip. The word cumming has her dazed, you can see it in her expression when she looks up at you. Her round, puppy eyes have narrowed in desire and you feel her butt rub over your crotch, intentionally feeling more of your cock and making it erect.

“I-I always wondered,” she suddenly whispers, unable to hold eye contact with you. “How this w-would feel.”

“How what f-feels?” you ask her, unable to focus as she suddenly starts to face you and reveals a lot of cleavage. Wait, is she even wearing a—

“L-like… ha-having sex in th-the—

“In my b-butt…”

You have never seen Sakura so abashed, so uncertain about something. She looks fragile, a shy girl who is incapable of asking for what she really wants because it’s so lewd, so wrong. At the same time, she is already all over you, not even wearing a bra. Her hands are on your chest, you can easily pull her closer, yet your heart forces you to ask away.

“Why… why are you thinking that?”

“I-I just wondered because… when I lost my vi-virginity… Hayoung showed me how to ride th-this guy. My-my first was not that big, b-but Hayoung couldn’t stop. I-it was very… and then he put it in her… butt.”

Sakura hides her flushed face, but continues nonetheless.

“I have never s-seen a girl c-cum s-so hard.”

“So… you want to t-try it?” you carefully ask, hands still on her waist, eyes fixed on the opening of her dress. Her small, bare breasts with dark pink areolae look like a feast and her also small, not (yet) bare waist fits perfectly into your hands.

Sakura peeks through the gaps in between her fingers and takes deep breaths. “Yes, I want to try it. With you. I-I don’t want to wait any longer, please… say yes.”

You try not to smile stupidly and carefully nod. Sakura lowers both her hands, one weakly squeezes the growing bulge in your pants, while the other reaches for her drawer. In it you eye a surprising amount of condoms, douching devices and lube containers. Sakura reaches for one of them.

“D-don’t worry,” she stutters. “I did s-some preparation.”

“Can I see?” you ask without thinking. Rationale is a steadily decreasing factor in your decision making, especially because Hayoung continues to moan with all the power her vocal cords have. She could have been a great singer—

“S-sure.” Sakura gets off of you and reaches underneath her dress. She pulls down slutty, soaked panties that only Hayoung would wear (if she wears any underwear at all). Hesitantly, she spins around and her fingers dig into the hem of her dress, her knuckles turning white.

“You don’t have to, you know?” you chuckle and take the container before any of the clear liquid will be spilled out through Sakura’s digits. Your attempt to relieve her of some pressure seems laughable with Hayoung’s crescendo reaching yet another overhyped climax.

“No!” Sakura rebuts, a pull sending her dress up and exposing her most private part, a smooth, shaven nether region and a firm, spreadable butt. Why spreadable? Because even a somewhat timid Sakura can’t help but pull apart her ass cheeks to show you what’s in between. “My-my fingers, the toys—they are not enough. I-I need you.”

Your cock threatens to break through your pants at the sight, the smell, the absurdity. Is this the b-plot to Hayoung’s porn? A slow burn scene only now reaching its final destination? Things developing at a snail's pace and now the tip of your fingers are almost in her flesh and your tip is almost in her lubed rear end? You can’t complain about this movie.

“Now?” you ask, a final stern facade to hide your desire.

“Yes, please,” Sakura’s last, final, ultimate whimper, her lower lip tucked underneath her teeth in a bite to sever all doubts—

Wrap an arm around Sakura, her slutty little waist perfect in your hold before you let go and send her backwards on her bed. The disconnect between your bodies is not for long; one hand is already hiking up her dress further, the other is in her marvelous strands while your knees only start to make contact with the mattress.

Sakura sinks back, laying down into her pillows and your hands exploring everywhere but her stimulating spots, yet your touch and longing alone make her feel a bliss that numbs her feet, her legs, her arms. They all become idle as you spread apart her knees and get in between them, still fully clothed.

When your lips suddenly initiate a feverish attack on her jaw, she can’t hold back. More of you, more of you—her dizzy eyes jump open and her fingers find ways to permanently reveal your body. Your bare chest is only a breath away from hers, her crotch almost on yours. You smile down at her.

“You want me this badly, Kkura~?” you tease and rub a circle on her thigh with your stupidly hard cockhead. Sakura’s soles swirl in the air, her entire body flooding with heat.

“Be careful, please.”

Her fingers sneak to her ass once more, this time showing off exactly where she wants it. The puckered entrance is not only clean, hell, even prepared would be an understatement to how inviting her hole is. Sure, the pussy above it looks fabulous, oh-so tempting to fill up and make endless love to, but the there is an unbridled thrill to the way Sakura’s asshole lightly clenches and relaxes and clenches and relaxes and—

Align yourself. Stop yourself. Sakura’s lips tremble more than the rest of her small frame. Place your elbows on each side of her head to gaze at her beauty, maybe find out what’s wrong by the glassiness of her eyes.

“Kiss me already,” she husks.

“But I want to see your face while I do it,” you whisper.

Sakura mewls, all ten of her sweaty fingers on your lower back as she locks eyes with you. No further instructions, this is where all your knowledge ends and you can only act due to instinct. Push your hips forward, slowly, but with force to get your swollen tip into the tight hole.

Sakura’s lips part wide open, her eyes are even wider. Her short, yet pointy nails find their way under your skin, creating a pool of pain in your lower back that you have to push through. The way she wraps snuggly around your cock negates all the pain elsewhere. Half way in, you grit your teeth and see Sakura doing the same. She is certainly in pain.

“Relax,” you whisper between profound breaths.

“K-kiss me!” she demands and you let your face finally sink to hers. In wanton need she offers her tongue and you take it for a ride, pushing it around in her mouth in a tornado-like kiss. The torrential pace tears out tension from Sakura’s body, first her limbs, then her face and finally, her insides relax. It’s a gradual process in which you become well acquainted with Sakura’s mouth, making it entirely yours.

“You feel so good,” you compliment her when your lips disconnect. “Did I ever tell you that—”

“Shh, not now,” Sakura interjects with a smile. “C-can you start… now?”

“Sure~”

For the first time since the initial penetration, you move your hips backwards, dragging your cock alongside Sakura’s lubed walls. It’s a lewd sound, a sound only the two of you can hear because Hayoung once again trumps it with her scream, though there is clearly a cock in her mouth.

When only your tip remains inside her, you gently grab her tiny waist and begin to both push in and pull her towards you. Sakura melts into the mattress, her sweaty body becoming one with it, one with yours when you gradually fill her with more of your inches. You stop before the final one and the two of you groan straight into the other's face, eyes closed, deeply satisfied.

Or not?

“M-more,” Sakura whispers, one of her arms loosely around your nape, the other moving over her midriff to her pussy. “I want all of you.”

And you want all of her all over your dick. So you push in, further than any of her toys, girthy, pulsating; you’re close to losing your mind over her incredible body and marvelous insides. Sakura gets everything she asked for, your sack is already crazing her buttocks and in a drawn out moan, you know that she does not regret asking.

“Kkura, I can’t—”

“D-don’t stop, fill me aga—”

She gives you a hint of permission and you take it. Like her body is just a light fleshlight, you take her slutty little waist and slam her slutty little asshole on your length to force screams from her slutty little mouth. You want Sakura to succumb to the same pleasure as you, yet she still finds a way to give you more leverage, an easier time to fuck her rear end.

Hayoung’s porny sounds are nothing anymore to the sheer lewdness of you pistoning back and forth along lubed walls and Sakura rubbing her clit manically. You and Sakura suddenly start to lick all over the other person. It’s devouring the other without hurting them, consuming more of them without having to stop the grabbing and thrusting, both increasing their pace.

There is a perfect rhythm, which is no rhythm at all. Switch from slow thrusts and biting her collarbone to stopping it all together and just feeling her flex and struggle around to suddenly go all out for dozens of hits that make her eyes disappear in the back of her head. Sakura is the same, her fingers rubbing her clit then two of them disappearing into her pussy for a quick double penetration, before suddenly invading your mouth. She tastes even better than she smells. Impossible.

“I’m—”

Sakura’s moan is cut short by you jerking her clit side to side. Her orgasm pulsates through her body, initiated from both her deeply penetrated asshole and her continuously flicked nub. To your surprise, she is rather quiet, unlike her roommate who never stops shouting out her pleasure. Sakura instead goes for your lips, loving biting your lower lip, evoking groans out of you.

You realize there is nowhere to go, it’s either you cum now or you’ll be painfully blueballed, so you fold Sakura further, slam down harder and watch her narrow eyes release tears of pleasure. Everything goes quiet, except for skin slapping on skin and you groaning your final words right into her ear:

“F-fuck, I’ll fill you up, Kkura. I’m gon—”

Your vision blurs to white lick a bad transition during a powerpoint presentation. You feel Sakura’s butt squeezing out your sperm in multiple massive dumps that make her warm deep inside. But that’s not the only thing she squeezes tightly: her arms are wrapped around your upper body, forcing it onto her sweaty tits and you want to mold into her, to become one.

Only after your final droplet of cum is inside Sakura’s ass, you slowly pull and while caressing her buttocks, you feel a lot of you running out of her. She giggles in embarrassment.

“Gu-guess you spread me pretty good.”

“Ye-yeah.”

You can’t help yourself but look at the mess you made out of her hole. It’s utterly gaped, endlessly oozing your load onto the bedsheets with her body only supported by your arms on her thighs.

“That was great,” Sakura sighs, still out of breath. “We need to clean up though.”

Suddenly, someone goes apeshit on Sakura’s door, banging it like the drumset of a metal band.

“Hey! Hey! I know you’re inside there! I need your help, quick!” Hayoung shouts at the top of her lungs. It baffles you how she still can after all the ‘performing’ she’s been doing in the last couple of minutes.

“Uhm… bad timing,” you respond and quickly cover Sakura with a blanket. “U-unless the house is burning down, I won’t open this—”

“I need someone to cum on me, for a cumshot scene! I know you have one in you for me, please, quick!” Hayoung begs. In front of your inner eye you can see her, glazed in cum running down her entire lewd body, yet there is one part of her face not yet properly covered. Maybe one of the guy shot blanks—

You look at Sakura, her gaping hole, your thick creamy load on the bed sheets.

Yeah, you won’t be of any help for her today.

#kpop smut #male reader insert #female idol smut #girl group smut #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #le sserafim smut #fromis 9 smut #hayoung smut #sakura smut

916 notes · View notes

itsharleystuff · 4 months

Text

╰─▸ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

‘ I just wanna be one of your girls tonight ’

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rockstar!Joel x afab!fem!reader (no outbreak alternative universe).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend’s boyfriend has an older brother that turned out to be the guitarist of a famous rock band from the 80s. You meet Joel by accident before his concert and things take an interesting turn.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (Joel is 48, reader is said to be in college tho her age isn’t specified), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, sex with a “stranger”, a bit of dirty talk, oral sex (f), use of ‘slut’, praise, mirror sex, fingering, some oral (m), cum eating, reader calls Joel an ‘old man’, smoking (they share a cigarette), pet-names (sweetheart, darling, honey). Also, I know nothing about guitars or concerts so this is probably very inaccurate. This one’s roughly edited, forgive meee. No use of y/n.

— 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: One of the girls - The Weeknd, Lily Rose-Depp, Jennie. Breakin’ dishes - Rihanna. Todas mueren por mi - Cartel de Santa.

Third-wheeling has now unintentionally become your most recurrent hobby since your best friend started dating Tommy Miller. Not that either of them minded, given that it was their idea.

Tonight was different, however.

"I could've been a part of it, y'know?" the man boasts, "I just didn't know how to play any instruments or how to arrange tunes... I have a nice voice, though. If that counts for anything."

Ary, your friend, giggles at his statement and replies with a comment that you didn't quite listen. Tommy's car stereo is currently blasting The Clashers' latest album— Joel Miller's rock band, that is. Two days ago, you had no idea who the eldest Miller was –only that he existed–, much less that he was the guitarist of a very popular 80s band. Now his brother is taking you and his girlfriend to their gig, to which he was given front row tickets. Nice.

Their music was actually pretty good, though some of the songs sounded more country than rock. Tommy explained that those were most definitely written by his brother, due to his love for the genre. Apparently, The Clashers have had a recent comeback with their newest album and a small tour, all after a long, undefined hiatus that went on for nearly a decade and a half. "Joel's fault", the younger Miller said, "he became a father. A single one, to top it off. But he's the best at it, don't ever doubt that."

"How old is he again?" you wonder, suddenly curious about the age gap between the siblings.

"Forty-eight. His girl Sarah just turned nineteen a couple months ago." You nod absentmindedly at the response.

You met Tommy almost a year ago, when Ary and you used to work at a cafeteria outside of Dallas' university. She'd graduated a few years ago, but needed money to pay her rent and coincidentally, you did too. You hit it off right away, becoming friends but also roommates in further time. Though you were still in college and she was a bit older, that never seemed to be an issue with your friendship or your schedules. Tommy came along shortly after, turning up every day at the café with his charisma and nice manners, making his intentions with Ary very clear since the beginning.

"D'you think there'll be a crowd?" your question makes her raise a brow quizzically.

"Most likely," she retorts thoughtfully. "Why? Are you regretting your own idea?"

Her boyfriend chuckles at that, knowing perfectly well how much you disliked loud, cramped places. It's not that you didn't enjoy this sort of events once in a while, but being someone who gets easily overwhelmed around people, you mostly prefer the sort of lay-back dates. Nevertheless, it was you who came up with this plan for today. With college giving you such a hard time and your colleagues being tremendous assholes lately, you needed something out of your comfort zone to fully unwind. Some action to pull you off the dull routine.

"Are you subtly implying that I'm a boring person?" you ask, falsely offended, crossing both arms over your chest. "Cause I swear I know how to loosen-up, I just need time to... Get used to it."

Tommy seems to be holding back laughter, but Ary doesn't even try to hide her amusement. "Girl, you're lucky I'm your friend, or else you'd be rotting in our local library," she scoffs.

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk pursing your lips, "Yeah, cause that'll be such a tragedy. Who'd support you financially if I didn't study, huh?" you turn your head to her boyfriend. "Tommy?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, fighting against the urge to grin. "Oh, dear," she glances over her shoulder to look at you from the shotgun seat, bright smile painting her face. "Don't give him any ideas. He might just marry me."

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Whilst Tommy went looking for a place to park, you and Ary walked to the nearest convenience store to grab some beverages. You were still running early anyway, which only meant a quick stop wasn't going to imply much trouble.

"I'll wait for you out here," with a head tilt, you silently indicate your friend to go ahead. "I need a cig."

She nods understandingly, "Want me to grab something for ya'?"

"No, I'm alright. Don't worry about it."

Ary stopped at the entrance to look back at you, staring intently for a weird extent of time, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Did I mention you look stunning?"

"You might've had, but that doesn't mean I don't love hearing it," the reply widened her smile. Once she went inside the store, you took a chance to peer at your reflection in the showcase.

This whole eighties vibe was certainly not something you were used to, but there was no denying how hot it made you appear. Aiming for a 'rockstar girlfriend' kinda look, you went for that smudgy, dark eye-makeup; as for the clothes, the mini skirt, low-cut bustier and oversized leather jacket paired with some nice boots kept the whole outfit together.

You blinked away, stunned by how confident you suddenly felt in your own skin. Chuckling to yourself, you started digging in your purse for a smoke. And as if the gods decided to toy with your faith, you luckily found a single one sitting at the very bottom; putting the filter between your lips, you then turned your bag upside down to search for the lighter, only to find that you hadn't brought it with you.

"Damnit," you spat in frustration, closing your eyes to picture in your mind where the last place you'd left it was.

Maybe it was next to your bed, on the nightstand; or perhaps in front of the stove... No, it definitely wasn't in the kitchen. The blurry image in the back of your head resembled more of a–

"Hey," a low, masculine voice called from beside you in a mellow tone, almost as if this mysterious man had a naturally sly nature but wanted to cool it down. "Need a light?"

He had a deep, soothing ring; raspy, profound and very southern-like. Frankly, you didn't know what you were expecting before setting your eyes on him, but it definitely wasn't a man such as he was. A wave of emotions washed over your body as you pried on him; big, broad, rugged and devastatingly handsome. Not to mention older than you— however, how much older is not a detail you care to find out. Your skin felt ticklish and warm, added to the sudden acceleration of your pulse.

First thing you noticed were his big brown eyes, shiny in sort of a childish way, regardless of the wrinkles that surrounded them when he politely simpered. You could tell he was a total heartthrob by the way his lips quirked and his head tilted downwards when addressing you.

He's thick in the arms and wide in the shoulders, something that was noticeable despite the black leather jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of worn-out denims. The cowboy hat on his head casts shadows upon his face but you're still able to make up his features: aquiline nose, strong jawline, soft lips under a styled mustache and a patchy, graying beard. Tall and handsome as hell.

"Yeah," you answer as soon as your mind allows you to, suddenly feeling your mouth dry when realizing you were staring. He bit back a smirk as he gauges at your reaction. "You've got one?"

"Lucky for you, I do." His left hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, taking out a simple red lighter. "I don't suppose you've got a cigarette to spare, do ya'?"

"Sorry," you frown apologetically, "this is my last."

He closed the gap between you, but instead of handing the lighter, he hunched down to lit the end of the dart still hanging from your lips, caging it with his big hand. And fuck, he smelled good. A mix of cedar and sandalwood, fresh and manly.

"No worries, doll." Dizzy with his presence, your eyes unconsciously bored into his. You can't move away, diving inside his pupils like you're hypnotized. "I'll just buy a pack for myself."

Caught up in that urge of keeping him near, you take the dart between your fingers and hear yourself say: "Unless you wanna share."

It was impulsive, not to mention irrational. Yet, all of the rational thoughts inside your brain had unforeseeably vanished in thin air, replaced by a strange need that rested in the pit of your stomach, a wicked desire that rushed through your veins like a drug. His brow shot up in surprise, giving you a subtle, pleased nod. He realizes there's something else behind your proposition, nothing that could be hidden with the way you're shamelessly looking at him.

"Let me guess," he commences, his calloused fingers brushing against your own when he takes the cig, orange end stained with your lipstick, "you're headed to the concert."

Your eyes squint with a crooked smile, "Are you that perceptive or am I just that obvious?" he takes a short drag, holding the fag with a nonchalant attitude and a mannerism that expressed experience.

"Bit of both," the shadows of smoke surround his face, hiding his features behind a thick, mysterious fog. "You've got that groupie vibe to ya'. The kind of girl that has her walls filled with boy-band posters," he jokes.

"Oh, is that it?" you ask playfully, mirroring his action to let the nicotine circle your system. "Cool it, cowboy. I ain't trynna get in trouble for fighting an old man."

He chuckles at your sarcastic remark and you can see the spark of a thin chain around his neck, along with the soft curls that gathered at his nape. Jesus, his side profile was divine.

"What's your name, darlin'?" he asks. You tell him, that southern drawl of his being more noticeable when echoing it. "You from around?"

"Yeah," you blow the smoke away from him, though he takes back the dart while you're at it. "Been here my whole life. You?"

He shakes his head lightly, "Austin. But I've been all over."

You can't help but smile inwardly, "That explains it."

"What thing?" the man asks with a certain intrigue.

"Nothing... You've just got that particular vibe." He's already laughing when you point at the cowboy hat, rejoicing in the way you played with his own words.

"I see that, groupie." He takes the almost consumed cigarette between his teeth and removes the hat from his head, running a hand through his soft curls. "Let's trade."

You watch in awe as he unexpectedly places the hat atop your own head. It sits well there and the way his eyes grow dark and his lips curve upwards can only mean he likes it too.

"What'cha think?" you inquire, slightly adjusting it.

"I think..." he eyes you up and down, ashing the cig with a tap of his index, "You should keep it. In exchange, I'll just take what's left of this lung-junk."

"Well, that doesn't seem like a fair trade," you cross both arms over your chest. "Isn't there anything else you want apart from that half-burnt smoke?"

His head tilts to the side as he meditates his answer, his chocolate hair now messy and a couple of those brown curls hanging loose across his forehead. For a moment, you're worried you might've sounded too raunchy for the occasion, but he looks pretty pleased. His eyes lock with yours and you feel your knees wobbly just from that undeniable tension that lingers in the air.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Damn, he's good. "Find me after the concert's over. You can repay me then with whatever you might find convenient."

Your brows crease at the scheme, curious, "How will I find you, though? I'm certain there'll be a lot of people."

He laughs darkly, like he knew something you didn't –which, to be fair, was probably true–. "Just ask for Joel. I'm sure someone will point you to the right direction."

Joel.

Joel...

Joel?

Could it be...?

"See ya' around, groupie." He sets off with a subtle head gesture, waving back at you.

Your mind was spinning so fast that you didn't even notice when Ary reappeared beside you, rambling something about a woman being annoying over the prices and fighting cashiers, too worked up to even notice your distraught— or your new acquisition.

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

The venue was crammed with people and there was a heady scent of pot all over the place, not unusual in these sorts of businesses. Thankfully, Tommy had arrived earlier to guide you through the masses.

"Here," he said, taking you and his girlfriend by the wrist. "We've got VIP seats, no need to go all the way down there." He pointed the barricade, where a ton of people were congregated to get the better spot.

The area in which you were located had a better view of the stage and was way more comfortable. Only till you finally sat down did Ary notice the new addition to your outfit.

"Did you buy that outside the store?" she wonders, sorta screaming to make herself heard over the mass. Tommy's eyes land curiously on you.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Funny," the man mumbles to himself, shaking his head lightly. "Very funny."

"What?"

"Well," he clears his throat and licks his lips nervously, "I just think it's funny that you'd get a cowboy hat in one of my brother's gigs."

Still in the shadows, you raise your shoulders to beguile him into spilling the details, "Why's that?"

Tommy taps his knee anxiously. "You see, when Joel was younger he'd often 'gift' his hats to any girl that would catch his eye. It was a way of... I don't know, making them one of his girls, you could say. By doing so, the other band members would see her and no one would dare to make a move."

His words fell upon you like an ice bucket. Joel, Joel, Joel. It just had to be the same Joel, because honestly, what were the chances?

Before you can retort, or even form an answer in your brain, the lights go out and the crowd bursts in cheers and shouting. But you can't for the life of you pay any mind to them, too focused on Tommy's story ringing in your ears. Seconds prior to the lights going on again, the sound of a single guitar key reverberated through the venue.

Did Joel Miller just mark you like cattle so no other man would approach you? Was that some kind of sick game he liked to play? If that were the case, you can't really say you're mad about it... Mostly thrilled, so to speak.

"So what would happen afterwards?" you asked, leaning to his ear, so you could make yourself be heard.

"Huh?"

"He'd make his move and then what?"

The man slightly winced as if you had just asked him the dumbest question in the book, "I think you know the rest."

You knew.

Of course you knew.

There's a voice saying "Goodnight, Dallas" and the spotlight is now on the five men standing on stage. You didn't even need to search for his image, your eyes immediately attaching to him like a magnet. A feeling of beguilement settles in your bones as you realize you've achieved that excitement you hoped to get tonight, at last.

Amidst chaos and loud screaming, he stood there in all his glory, perfectly aware of the impression his sole presence could cause. Messy brown hair, sun-kissed skin and that patchy, graying beard. Convenience store Joel turned out to be rockstar Joel.

The only thing that was different about his appearance were the dark aviator sunglasses that gracefully framed his face, a belt with a big, round buckle and the black Epiphone Wilshire guitar that was strapped to his shoulder with a sash. All of this new fashion somehow made him more physically appealing, if that was indeed possible. He looked like the type of man you'd rip off from a magazine and stick up in the corners of your vanity; the kind of star that girls and women would salivate over.

You could totally see the fascination and understand why it was easy for him to simply pick out someone he liked and take them back to his dressing room for a nasty time. Joel Miller was that guy.

In the back of your mind you register the fact that you're probably eye-fucking him whilst his younger brother and your best friend are both standing at your right. But you can't really help it— he was just so electrifying, such a magnetic force of a man. The whole world seemed to stop as the concert carried on, though you can only make out the melodies when you're far too distracted by Joel's charisma and mysterious air.

The way he moves on stage, too focused on his own act, fingers tugging at the strings and metal vibrating underneath his touch... It's fascinating how he makes it look easy and like a tremendous labour at the same time, pulling it all off with a wolffish smile on his face. The other band members had their own charm too, but your preference was undeniable.

They played the songs that you had been previously listening to, and the fact that they're being played live just amplifies the feeling of intimacy regarding the lyricism and musicality. Songs that talk about life's hardships, love, heartbreak and carnal desires. They all just hit different.

Towards the end of the concert, Ary started feeling dizzy, the amount of people and sudden dehydration giving her signs of a posible migraine. She tried not to say anything for the sake of your fun, realizing just how much you're enjoying yourself tonight. But at the end she truly couldn't, deciding to tell Tommy she needed to step back for awhile and go get some fresh air.

"I should go with her," you said in concern. His boyfriend shook his head and patted your shoulder.

"I'll go. You can stay if you want to, just call me if something feels off and I'll be back in a sec," he said reassuringly.

It took a few seconds to agree, although you eventually did. The event was almost over anyways. "Tell me if anything happens."

"F'course."

You watch as he leaves behind her with a certain remorse in your gut. The Clashers play three more songs afterwards, turning out to be much more emotional and heartfelt than you could've expected.

One by one, every single band member thanked the audience before the lights went out completely and the crowd stopped their clapping and cheering.

In order to avoid getting stuck at the exit from the people storming out, you decided to stay back and wait. You intended to reach your friend via message, sending a short "everything alright?" that did not deliver due to the awful signal. Only then did you start to grow nervous and more worrisome.

"Excuse me," out of nowhere, one of the security guards called for you when no one else was around –aside from the scattered people that had the same idea as you did–; a tall man with a 'staff' pin on his shirt. He asked for your name, but something about the way he worded the question made you believe he already knew it. "You've got a backstage invitation."

"A backstage invitation?" You tried holding back laughter. "From whom?” your eyes narrowed at a new clue. “Wait... Did Tommy meet up with Joel?"

The staff member furrowed his brows in surprise, "You came here with Miller's brother?"

"Huh? Yes... Isn't that why you approached me?" the stranger gave you a kind, slightly embarrassed smile.

"No, but you should come with me. Joel's in fact the one that asked."

"Oh..."

So, it was him after all.

'Someone will point you to the right direction', turned out to be quite literal.

You agreed to follow the guard. Maybe Joel could just reach Tommy and tell him you were fine. Although that'll mean you'd have to explain how you two had met. Well, shit... It’s not like it was a bad thing, right?

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Backstage dressing rooms tend to be different depending on the facility where an event is held. In this case, there were rooms with the artist's names hanged on them and a handful of people moving around, spitting orders and following instructions. Everyone was so involved in their own affairs that no one really seemed to notice you, specially standing next to the security guy, who knocked twice on the guitarist's door.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, that post-concert glow brightening up his features. His cocky smirk told you just how certain he was that you'd end up here eventually and how glad he was for it. You gave a quick nod to the man that guided you here and he disappeared just as quick as he came.

"Hey there, groupie."

"Joel." Your lips unconsciously curved, too. "I believe I owe you something." His hair was ruffled and the sunglasses rested atop his head, looking better up-close than he did on stage.

"Wanna come in?" the question sounded so genuine and innocent, it almost made you believe there wasn't a meaning behind it... Yet, you knew; you were both aware.

"Sure, but-" there was something you had to tell him... God, he smelled good— what was it you had to tell him? "Won't they scold you for having me here?"

His dressing room was fairly spacious, with a small leather couch, a coat stand with a couple of jackets and shirts hanging. His guitar rested on the corner, tucked inside its case; facing the couch was some kind of vanity where celebrities could get their makeup done, the lights around the mirror reflected a warm light.

"Don't think so, darlin'. I'm way too old for a scolding," he joked, closing the door behind you.

The very moment you were left alone, away from any prying eyes, the air shifted entirely; as if this whole space was your own private setting. That same feeling you experienced outside the store somehow crawled under your skin once more, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a crushing expectation.

"Did you enjoy the show?" you nod distractedly.

"I did. But I ain't gonna lie, it was a total shocker to find out that the hot guy I'd just met was actually a part of the group." Joel's eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar simplicity that invited you in and provided a certain comfort.

"I wish I could've seen your face," he retorted, his voice smooth and low.

"Why?" you bicker, "So I could further boost your ego? No, thanks."

He chuckles softly, his eyes squinting to reveal the tiny wrinkles that form around them; a sign that he's always been the type to laugh without remorse. Those are the small details that make him even more attractive in your perspective.

You lean against the makeup board, giving your back to the mirror and crossing both arms over your chest. The heel of your boots had started to feel uncomfortable, so you placed one leg across the other to shift some of the weight whilst his gaze followed your every move intently; the unfathomable depth of his eyes stirred something inside you, an urge to unleash your impurest thoughts.

"You've got quite an attitude, don't ya', groupie?" the man questions with humor. "But I'm pretty sure you just called me hot, so, either way, my ego was boosted," he pointed out smugly.

"Joel," you click your tongue, subtly shaking your head. "I bet there's tons of women saying that about you, and there's no doubt in my mind that you’re aware of it already."

That could not be denied. Throughout his life, Joel had always been aware of his charm and good looks, which eventually brought him popularity amongst the group. After having Sarah, he saw himself forced to tone down the amount of affairs and adventures he'd have, specially as a single father, always trying not to get his daughter's hopes high if she saw him with someone.

Honestly, despite him being back on track with the 'celebrity' lifestyle, he still wasn't planing on keeping up with his old tricks of bringing women backstage and giving them something to gush about with her friends. He really hadn't gotten involved with anyone during the tour until now... And it wasn't something he'd intended to do either. Everything happened so spontaneously, the way you two sort of bonded and just met out of the blue. Joel's goal wasn't any of this at first, he merely thought of how gorgeous you were and how comfortable he felt in your presence.

However, logic and good sense abandoned him the minute your eyes gaped at him; dark and alluring, with a spark in them that he could not escape, an intriguing verve that entranced him and crept under his skin. From that moment forward, he could only think about you while being on stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of your skin amongst the crowd but having to settle with the fresh image of you on his mind: your confident mannerisms, your striking smile and how good your legs looked in that mini-skirt. He tried to put on his best performance just to impress you.

"Yet, your perception of me is the only one I currently care about," he declares, taking a few decided steps towards you.

You beam, keeping your head held high, "I gotta give it to you, Joel. The hat thing, your whole performance... Very clever."

He's taken aback by your words, surprise written all over his face. "What d'you mean?"

"Come on, Joel," you reply with a roughish grin. "You really thought I wouldn't hear all about your schemes? Oh, here I believed I was special," you joke.

The man gets rid of that 'respectful' distance that kept you apart, slowly making his way to you, exuding that perpetual arrogance he naturally carried and never breaking eye contact. You returned the same energy; piercing his soul with those siren eyes, barely tilting your head back to expose your throat and unhooking your arms to give him a better sight of your breasts. Intentional or not, those little details were driving him insane.

"You are special, sweetheart," he murmurs, emphasizing the second word. "All of my girls are."

He was quite close now, his scent dazing your senses and the warmth of his body, plus that southern drawl of his, formed goosebumps on your skin. With boosted confidence, you reach out to softly grab the lapels of his jacket. You wait for him to push you away, scold you or react negatively... though he never does. Instead, his eyes fall from yours to your lips, licking his own distractedly. You motion to remove the shades form his head and place his hat back on, adjusting it lightly. In the meantime, you take your time to run your fingers through his hair, drag them along his jaw, feel the raspy sensation of his beard scratching your fingertips.

"S'that so?" you whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. "You know what I want...?" His eyelids shudder, a muscle twitching on his neck as you lean to pour the next words into the shell of his ear. "I just wanna be one of your girls, Joel Miller..."

Those words have an immediate effect on him, his eyes darkening with blown away pupils. Your hand lowers to his chest, conscious of the strength with which his heart was beating, the heat of his feverish skin there where you touched him. His palms land on your hips, caressing the covered skin as they make their way to your waist.

"We'll see 'bout that, darlin'," he hushes, cupping your face with his right hand to keep you steady, restrain your control over him. His face is barely inches away from yours, practically breathing each other in. "You know what's gonna happen now, don't you?"

You gulp in suspense, eyes glued to his lips, waiting, wishing he'd just kiss you. "Yes..."

"Good," Joel's thumb swipes across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. "Is this what you want?"

You can barely muster up the courage to speak, nearly falling from the tension. "Please..."

"Mmm..." his nose rubs against yours and your eyes close instinctively. "That's not an answer, sweetheart."

Your hands fist on his shirt, desperate to touch him. "Yes, Joel."

"That's my girl," he praises, effectively creating a pool of arousal that smothers your underwear. But you've barely got any time to process it before his lips are finally on yours.

The kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, his plump lips molding against yours. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck, your nails scratching his skin deliciously. Everything feels hot all of the sudden, the need to get rid of your jacket latent on the edges of your body. Joel holds your waist and quickly sits you fully on top of the board, making you squeal from the abruptness of the action; this way he can settle himself between your legs and flush his chest to yours. His lips never part from yours, swallowing down any noise that escaped your mouth.

The coarse fabric of his jeans feels rough against your exposed skin, his hands coming to grab the back of your thighs, sliding them beneath the hem of your skirt as you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is breathy and intense, you taste him when your tongue drags inside –a mix of mint and cigarettes–, your teeth crashing when he tries to assert his dominance by pulling your body closer to his. Your perfume, sweet and floral, lingers around him in a way that makes him want you even more. When he slowly licks your lower lip, you moan faintly and the sound makes him throb.

His fingers splay on your asscheeks, prodding you to feel the weight of his hardening cock against your inner thigh, consequently setting a fire in your lower belly. You catch his grunt in the kiss, the feeling of his mustache tingling on your skin whilst you grind your hips just to experience that friction once again, relishing in the familiar sensation of your arousal spilling into your panties, wet and warm. And fuck, part of you doesn't believe that this man is hard for you. Joel suddenly backs away, just enough to stare blankly into your eyes, casted with desire, and regain a bit of composure.

"Not a word about this, 'aight?" something you had figured he'd state sooner or later.

"Yes, sir. It'll be our dirty little secret," you grin right as he whispers a goddamnit.

Before he pulls you in for another heated kiss, you struggle to take your jacket off, taking your phone out of the pocket and hastily throwing it to the floor as he mimics your action. Joel uses this moment to fully take in the sight of you; the way your tits sit perfectly in that top, chest rising and falling from drawing ragged breaths, your exposed neck and shoulders, flushed skin ideal for him to nip at and trace with his lips. So he does just that.

He ghosts your mouth, towering over you but ignoring the need to reattach your lips to his. Alternately, he gently kisses your chin, making his way down your throat and between your collarbones. You're a panting mess under his touch, trying to keep yourself collected for the sake of not getting caught, yet failing when his teeth sank onto the pillowy flesh of your breast. You audibly gasp, holding onto his arm for dear life; though he simply huffs a laugh that vibrates through you.

"Don't worry, darlin'. In here, you can be as loud as you want to," he assures.

Joel descends to his knees in front of you and the image is far too erotic for you to hold back a whimper. He coaxes your knees farther apart, your denim skirt hunched up around your hips so he can peek at the red lace of your underwear. He grabs your calf and places a kiss to the side of your knee, looking up at you hungrily.

"Should we take this off?" he taps on your boot, calloused fingers tracing random patterns on your leg.

"Let's keep them on," you say, your hand stroking his cheekbone. "I want to wear them when I come on your cock."

His eyes glint with lust, "Fuck..." he rumbles, almost pained. "Who would've thought a pretty girl like you would have such a filthy tongue."

You can't help but smirk as his lips roam upwards, "You think I'm pretty?"

His gaze scorches with intensity, both his hands languidly sliding up your sides till his fingers hook on the edge of your panties, pulling them down your legs to take them off, "I think you're beautiful," he murmurs amidst. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears at the time he leans into the apex of your thighs, one of his brows quirking up at the sight of glistening slick sticking to your swollen skin.

"Poor thing," he coos, taking off the hat like a cowboy who's worked his whole shift and comes home to eat the best dinner he's ever had, placing it beside you. "You're so sensitive, baby..." you inhale sharply when he lays a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Been a while?"

You nod, though even if it has been a while since the last time you slept with someone, you're certain that most of your responsiveness falls onto Joel's doing. He tsked, shaking his head in the meantime and using his thumb to barely spread your folds. Your eyes look at him beneath heavy lids, lips parted as his mouth explores the area, his breathing tickling the sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart."

Without warning, his tongue darts out to lick the slick around your entrance, ravishing on the sweet taste of your juices. Your fingers thread through his curls, swallowing hard at the new sensation. He takes his time with you, leisurely allowing your wetness to gather on his tongue, his nose nudging at your clit when he moves his head a certain way. It all makes your brain spin, overcome by the pleasure you're experiencing, actually permitting you to loose your cords and spill uninhibited whimpers that only egged him on.

"Shit, you're doing great..." you can feel his smile against your dripping core.

"You just taste amazing, darlin'," he's not lying. Joel's enjoying himself far too much as he buries his tongue between your folds, holding you tighter. "So fucking good..."

The back of your mind registers the brief pain of his fingertips digging in your flesh, thinking it may bruise in the morning. The other part can't even form a rational thought. You moan his name, calling out for something to ground you; but he's just as gone, if not way worse. Joel is bewitched by the headiness of you, clogging his senses entirely. It's been so long since he gave head, but he doesn't remember it like this— like he couldn't get enough, so eager to make you feel good, to hear those pretty sounds spill from your mouth.

"Oh my god..." you mewl when his lips close around your puffy clit, gently flicking his tongue over it whilst you run your hands through his locks.

He flattens his tongue against the bundle of nerves, tracing delicate circles that make your whole body shudder. You're messily dripping all the way down to the wooden surface as he selfishly alternates his attention between your aching bud and your hole.

"Look at you, honey," he mumbles, voice laced with desire. "Doin' so good for me."

His fingers swipe across your slit, making you squirm. "Joel, please-"

"I know, baby, I know..."

Though when he's about to dive in again, you catch the light of your phone through your peripheral vision: an incoming call. The ID read the name 'Tommy <3'.

Tommy???!!!!

"Shitshitshit," you quickly reach for the device, swiping the green button and muttering a wary wait to the man before you. Joel simply gawks at you with intrigue, the pads of his fingers still roaming around your core. "Hello?"

On the other side of the line, Tommy says your name with utter relief, "Thank god. I left you a thousand messages. Are you okay?"

More than okay. Your brother's tongue was inside my cunt just a few seconds ago, actually.

Obviously you can't say that.

"Uh... Yeah, everything's fine." You clear your throat, trying to mask the gasp that threatened to escape when Joel started rubbing tender circles on your clit. "The signal's just really bad."

"Yes, I noticed," he mutters, a bit frustrated. "Should I go get you? There's still plenty of people at the entrance and I don't want you to get lost."

"No- no..." you have to bite your bottom lip in order to muffle the unholy moan you were about to slip out. The bastard had just sinked one finger inside you experimentally, watching your face contort in pleasure as he reached for that particular spot. "I- have... Is Ary alright?"

"She took a pill and is knocked out in the backseats of my car right now," you can practically hear his smile as he speaks. "But... Are you sure you're okay? You sound... Agitated."

That was a way of putting it.

Joel is a greedy, jealous man. He wants all your undivided attention and will make sure to let you know. He decides to add a second finger, watching your eyes screw shut and your mouth gape as he curls them, your slick covering all the way to his knuckles.

"Yes, I met with a friend-" you tug at his hair hard enough to make him groan, his cock twitching with interest. "She's taking me home."

Your thighs start quivering and your body feels hot all over, an abrasive feeling of bliss rushing through every single nerve ending. You're close, and judging by the way you clench around his fingers, he knows too.

"Oh... Well, in that case just let me know once you get home. Please?" You think you answer, but you're not entirely sure. The call ends and your phone slips from your hand.

"Joel, I can't..." you whine when his lips latch to your nub once again, his fingers still working you open.

"Yes you can," he vows. You clutch at his curls with enough strength to work him up. "You're a big girl, you can take it."

And it's right then, when he repeatedly hits your g-spot, licking and sucking at your delicate clit, that your hips get a mind of their own, barely kept in place by Joel's strong grip on your hip. The coil finally snaps. You're not sure what you say, what words fall from your mouth... But they do dawdle on his mind. You shake from the magnitude of your orgasm, muscles starting to relax as Joel licks up every drop of your release, absolutely lost in the sweet taste of you. Your grasp on his hair loosened as he rose to his feet, letting you catch your breath.

He's on edge, his voice a hoarse rumble when he spoke. "Didn't anyone tell you," his left hand came up to brush his fingertips over your lips, "how rude it is to answer phone calls when this pretty pussy of yours is getting eaten?”

You lick your lips nervously. "I'm sorry..." he hums in response, "I'll make it up to you."

There's no time for him to reply since you crash your lips to his once again, frenetically searching to feel his weight pressed on top of you for a second time. This kiss is messy, rushed and needy. You can taste yourself in it as he pushes his tongue past your teeth.

Amidst the fuss, your hand snakes between your bodies to tug at his belt, fumbling to pop his pants open. Once you do, you can feel how warm and heavy his cock is, rock hard beneath your touch. He hisses at the flick of your wrist, moving up and down his length over the thin fabric of his boxers. Joel rests his forehead against yours to even his breaths, his chest heaving with a lustful sigh.

"Fuck," he grumbles, swiftly manhandling you so you're facing the mirror. His hand holds your face for you to stare back at your own reflection. "Aren't you a sight to behold?"

And you're certain that for a man like him, those words couldn't be truer. Sweat beads around your neck and sticks a couple hairs to your temples, eyes teary in the corners and lipstick smeared from the make out. Here and there your skin displays signs of his presence, part of you wishing they'd stay there till the next morning. If there was an accurate way to describe how you looked, that'll be wrecked.

"You should see yourself, Miller," you smirk, gesturing in his direction. His eyes reflected a prurient nature that added to his sex appeal, hair messy from your doing and an eager expression that gave him a downright pornographic aura. "Not bad for an old man."

His lips caress the back of your ear, hands driving the denim skirt farther up your hips. You cling to the edge of the work desk, making an effort to stand up in your weak knees, chills running down your spine when he gently nibbles at your earlobe.

"So much for not wanting to boost my ego, huh, sweetheart?" his gruff voice is both soothing and stirring, making all the blood rush straight to your pussy.

He parts your legs, spreading them with his knee and forcing you to bend forward a little. Your head turns to peek behind your shoulder, his every move being closely monitored by you, eyes widening when you finally fathom the sheer size of his cock. Your lower body pulsates with anticipation, another wave of arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs.

"Holy fuck-" you ramble as you watch him expertly roll a condom on his length. He's long and visibly thick, a prominent vein running from base to tip; your mouth waters just from the idea of wrapping your lips around it. "Shit..."

"Don't be getting all shy now, honey. Tis' what you wanted, then you're getting it," he rasps, lining himself between your legs.

"M'not shy," you retort, staring back at him through the mirror. "Was just thinking about how badly I wanted to blow you."

Joel stifles a groan, his hands snaking to your front to pull down the top and expose your tits. There was no need to wear a bra with a bustier, which you were glad for, cause it made it easier for him to pinch the peaked buds of your nipples. The head of his cock glides across your folds, coating it with the slick that keeps dribbling each time he bumps against your clit or makes you watch as he gropes your breasts.

"You talk like a slut." Your cheeks soared red and your pussy fluttered at the name-calling. The heat of his body on yours was simply intoxicating, making it difficult for you to think. "Is that how you want me to fuck you?" he whispers in your ear, nudging his cock at your entrance but not quite going in yet. "Nice and hard until I make an absolute mess out of you? Mmm?"

You nod, "Yes, god- yes. Please, Joel..."

He takes that plea as his cue to press himself inside you, slow and steady, allowing your body to adjust to the intromission. Your mouth falls ajar, nails scratching the wood under your fingers, vaguely squirming at the sharp sting of the stretch.

"That's it, takin' my cock so well," words of encouragement fall hoarsely form his lips like a chant and your body willingly melts into his. "See? I knew you could take it."

His thighs plunge to yours when he bottoms out at last, letting out a few pants and groans, his fingers pushing stray hairs out of your face. You can feel him jerk inside you, your walls enveloping his girth tightly, a wave of pleasure licking his spine at the feeling. He doesn't waste any more time, finding a pace of his liking as soon as he started moving and being relentless with it. The way his neck chain hits your shoulder blades with each thrust, the scrub of his beard when he kisses your temple and the dirty praises that he murmurs in your ear, somehow make the situation grounding; like it's really happening and you're not dreaming about it.

As Joel cradles you in his arms, your hand skirts to his nape in order to bring him in for a kiss. Each roll of his hips is calculated, deep and unswerving, knowing exactly how and where you liked it, studying your reactions. When he kisses you, he does so earnestly, almost affectionate in contrast to the rhythm in which his dick drags inside you– but it's short, the need for oxygen overpowering both. At this point, not even your stilted whimpers and his soft moans can mask the lewd sound of your squelching pussy or the sporadic noise of skin slapping against skin.

"Good fuckin' slut," he locks your jaw in place, pushing you to keep eye contact with your own reflection. "Sneakin' behind your friend's back to get fucked by a stranger –shit– an 'old man', nonetheless..."

Your stomach tenses each time the head of his cock grazes that sensitive spot within you, legs shaking at the way he speaks to you. Through the mirror, you see the way his thumb digs into your cheek, his hand cupping your breast as he twists your nipple in his fingers and the worst of all: that haughty fucking smile that suited him perhaps too damn well.

"I always did like them older," you utter, out of breath.

He chuckles darkly, heftily, letting his hand coast down your abdomen and reach your clit to tease it while he takes you from behind. The feeling was so intense that all you could do was claw at his bicep and let a hushed whine slip past your lips, knowing that a second orgasm was approaching faster than you had expected.

"Fuck, Joel- It feels so good..." your moans are like music to his ears, a syrupy melody that he wants to maintain on replay.

The way your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his length with every push, has his head fuzzy with sheer pleasure. And god- you look beautiful coming undone for him. No; because of him. He sees you looking at him through the reflection, pupils dark with an obscure desire, feels your cunt soak him every time he tells you how good you are, with each sound he makes just for you.

"I'm so close-" you warn, white sparks blurring your vision at the building of your crescendo.

"C'mon, come for me," he purrs, skillfully teasing your nub. "Wanna feel it— oh fuck, wanna feel you live up to your promise..."

Joel fucking whimpers, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck as he pulls your hips to meet his pace. The sound is so enticing that it throws you off, wanting to engrave it in your mind. Your thighs waver and your back arches, an overwhelming sense of euphoria partaking your body. "I've got you, let me hear you," he fucks you through it, slowing down but never losing precision. "Right there, you did so good..."

In your state of frenzy, you feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grip on your body tightening: the classic telltale of his own climax looming. Through it all, with your heart thumping so loud that it's almost deafening, you blurt out a dulcet: "Come in my mouth..."

God help him.

He nearly loses it right then and there.

"As you wish," he sighed, his deep voice raspy with passion.

But he's an indulgent man, so he musters up the strength to pull out and snatch the condom away, throwing it to the trash can. You fall to your knees with no hesitation, arms stretching to reach the outline of his hips. Joel guides the ruddy head of his cock to your lips, spreading precome all over them before you fully take him in your mouth. You suck him earnestly, focusing on the tip and tracing the vein on the underside of his dick. He's so worked up that it doesn't take him long to start panting; head thrown back and hand grabbing firmly the back of your neck.

Your gaze stick to his, knowing perfectly the power of looking into his eyes. You love the taste of him, musky and strong; all man. All you can think of right at this moment is how you want more, so much more of him.

"Perfect," he slurs through gritted teeth. "Perfect girl."

You can't contain the hum that reverberates through him, pushing him over the edge whilst you massage his balls. A deep, guttural groan claws its way from his throat, hips stuttering and thighs trembling as he comes in thick, hot spurts down your throat. You swallow instantly, not thinking much about it and stroking his shaft unhurriedly until he's whimpering from overstimulation; though he doesn't tell you to stop or pushes you away, letting you work him up to the time of your choice. Once you're content, you straighten your posture and rearrange your top, roughly registering when he tucks himself back in his pants.

"You okay?" he asks, helping you get on your feet. His thumb swipes around your lips and chin to clean the smeared lipstick, a sweet concern dithering in his eyes.

“Feelin’ great,” you say with genuine joy, pulling your skirt downwards and grabbing your panties from the floor, laying next to your jacket and his guitar. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he lends you a hand in putting your jacket back on. “It’s been a while since I’ve… Uh, well, you get it.”

You turn to face him, beaming radiantly. Gosh, you’re stunning. He’s certain he won’t forget those mesmerizing eyes of yours.

“Joel, let’s be honest with each other…” your hands shot up to caress his cheek and thread at his curls. You don’t believe him one bit. “We’ll meet again. You know we will.”

You didn’t really mean it, merely wanting to make an impression. But there was a minuscule possibility that your paths would cross for a second time; after all, you did know his brother. Though you never mentioned that. Deep down, you were scared that he wouldn’t want to make a move if he knew of that connection— specially after seeing Tommy’s reaction when he saw that hat on your head.

“Hope that’s true, groupie.”

Joel insists on calling his chauffeur to take you home, arguing that it was past midnight and it was dangerous to take a cab. Eventually, you let him, making a quick stop to the bathroom to set things right with your appearance. He waits for you patiently, the cowboy hat presented to you as a gift when you walked out.

“Keep it,” he sways, “as a little souvenir for if we don’t end up meeting again. Besides, it suits you better.”

“Won’t you have another pretty girl to gift it to?” he rolls his eyes at your inquiry.

“I can always buy more,” he laughs. “I want you to remember I sent you home sore and aching each time you look at it.”

You giggle, getting on your tippy toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Miller. I’ll be thinking ‘bout it… About you. That’s a promise.”

And he truly hopes you mean it.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #joel miller au #alternate universe #smut

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304blur · 2 months

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"he'd be the type of guy to.." haikyuu edition ♡

notes: NOT proofread, i wrote rhis at 1:50am just some thoughts, all will be written with timeskip versions of them in mind. fem reader just cause also i chnaged title cuz it sidnt make sense LMAO

warning/s: NONE

genre: fluff

characters: hinata shoyo, kozume kenma, kageyama tobio, miya atsumu

hinata would be the type of guy to let your dates go unplanned (in a good way!!!) ypu guys get to do whatever you'd like, unrestrained. if you wanna go to a goodwill/thrift store and find cool items, he'd happily go with you. he'll also secretly get you some things that you stared at for too long. like those sparkly pink cowboy boots, a music box where instead of a ballerina spinning it's a middle finger, and a bikini that barely covers anything. then after buying those, you'd go in your car, and he'd hide them under the car seat, but the bikini's straps stick out from under the seat, and you go "what the fuck is that??" so he has no choice but to bring out the bag filled with the stuff you looked like you wanted, and surprised you early. do you want to go to an indoor volleyball court? hinata rented one just for the two of you to play. but you never got to play anything, you two are busy running around, playing hide and seek in the surprisingly large building. yes, for other people, things don't always go to plan. but for you two? you make the best out of unplanned surprises.

kenma would be the type of guy to really REALLY appreciate all of your pitiful efforts to pay him back for what he buys you. he loves, LOVES spoiling you, spending his CEO money on you is his love language. even though he acts a little nonchalant about it, he always loves seeing the smile on your face when he bought you something you've wanted for so long. but, you'd feel bad about what he's spending on you, and the effort he puts into working so hard 24/7, and going with you to the mall and buying you everything. so, you decide to repay him in different ways! like baking cookies that took you all day to bake but they taste bitter, but he still eats all of them in one sitting. you made him lots of origami flowers, he'd have it displayed in his room, without a single speck of dust landing on the paper, he knows that you feel guilty about him spending lots on you so you do these things, he keeps telling you that what he's spending on you isn't going to make a dent in his bank account, but you still wouldn't listen. (he secretly freaks out if you do things for him)

kageyama would be the type of guy to learn about anything you're into, and he'd teach you about what he's into in return. if you like a certain singer/band, and you love to quote a line from a song/an inside joke, he's going to be curious about it, and eventually, he'll start quoting it too, (at the start, he usually had trouble deciding whether or not the situation you're in would apply, but he's quoting that lyric/inside joke like he knows that band/singer better than you do.) he taught you volleyball, do you love spiking? he'd set for you, and you'd drive that ball home. do you prefer setting? he's gonna make you attend setter bootcamp, on god he's gonna turn into your coach instead of your boyfriend. you like blocking? he'd make sure he'd get his hits past your blocks, and of course tell you all sorts of positions you put your hands in if you want to change the trajectory of the ball, or completely shut it out. do you like recieving? he'll throw different types of serves your way so you'll learn how to recieve all of them perfectly. or if you'd love serving more, he'd be teaching you how to get service aces and eventually be better at serving than his team (according to him). he may be a pro volleyball player, but that doesn't mean he won't make time for you.

atsumu would be the type of guy to relax and pamper yourselves in his free time. despite his loud and rowdy personality, you and mr japanese barry b benson with a kansai accent, oftentimes go to spas, and get massages, facial treatments, all that good stuff. then he'd take you out to a hot spring after a major tournament is over, the steaming water helping to relax, and also give his skin some benefits too! after all, he's a volleyball player that has the looks of an idol, he has a face and body he has to maintain. if you guys don't want to go out, he'll look up recipes for diy mud masks to apply to eachothers faces, maybe even bringing out a stash of facemasks from his skincare mini frige and watch a movie together while waiting for the facemask to dry out. you're pretty lucky to have a skincare boyfriend, since you have never had a single skin problem ever since you started dating him. if there's an event you two will be attending, he'll prioritize the both of you looking and feeling fresh. you two would be the couple with the clearest skin in the room.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #miya atsumu #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #haikyu fluff #fanfic #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hinata shoyo

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deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months

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— ALL I WANNA DO

SUMMARY : aka. part 2 of jump on into the fire. in which she finally makes a decision about ben’s previous offer to start a family together.

PAIRING : soldier boy x supe!reader (f)

CHARACTERS : billy butcher, hughie campbell

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, cum play, dacryphilia (Ben, *said scoldingly*), angst

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : title from splashh song. daydreaming is so fun, this is the birth of my imagination as i watched the boys. also, i chose the reader’s super name to be ‘guardian’ bc I play too much destiny 😔. edited this to be part two of jump on into the fire Xx

To say things were awkward and tense between her and Soldier Boy was an understatement. Even the rest of the team could feel the tension between them, but since Y/N tried to be as discreet as possible about their relationship, they chopped it up to her being upset at him. Especially after the events at Herogasm.

She could have handled the situation better, but the implication that he liked her, as in enough to have kids with her, set alarms off in her head. He put her on the spot and she wasn’t ready for that for multiple reasons.

For one, she didn’t always buy that pathetic, wide-eyed look he’d give them when he was talking about his mistakes, because he didn’t really feel all that bad about it. He’s a soldier, those were just collateral damage, casualties that occurred as he did his job, and so it doesn’t actually matter to him, and it probably never will. The problem wasn’t that he was evil, because he wasn’t, that was all Homelander. The problem was that Ben simply didn’t care. He’s a soldier meant to be ordered around, it didn't matter if he was right or wrong.

That night, just for a few seconds, she stopped seeing him that way. He said something sweet and instead of laughing it off or saying ‘shut up’, she actually liked the idea of being his, of starting a family.

That realisation was terrifying.

What would the rest of the team say? Even without MM, Annie, Frenchie, or Kimiko around, she could imagine their faces if they ever found out that she and Ben had a complicated relationship. Especially MM, and she empathised with him the most. She felt like she was betraying them, for what? A crush?

“You alright, Guardian?” Butcher asked, standing next to her. He was trying to analyse her, trying to get into her head and why she was now staring off past the glass door. She looked at him, eyes flashing up to his face and then to his posture, curiously tilting her head to the side at the sudden interest he had in her spaciness.

“Yeah, why?” She asked, looking away from him to stare out the door again, the nice view from the Legend’s place. She knew he’d probably, finally, bring up the awkwardness between her and Ben, his sudden sour mood, and the way he hadn’t tried to make a move on her since that night. Or maybe Butcher was going to sweep it under the rug like he seemed to be doing these days, focusing mainly on the fact that both her and Ben were still getting the job done properly. At least she was.

Ben seemed to have a lot of other stuff going on and what had happened at Herogasm made it clear that he wasn’t as okay or as in control as he liked to pretend he was. She was there after all, when Ben had confessed to Hughie that he’d blacked out, with those wet, puppy-dog eyes, claiming to be a good guy.

He was a bully, but more than anything, Ben was truly pathetic. He wanted to be the best, to stay at the top, to prove he was worth more than anyone else, and he hated it when anyone threatened that. It’s why he was on board with ending Homelander. It’s why he treated everyone around him like complete shit, especially if he felt they were trying to rise above him.

“Soldier Boy don’t want you to come,” he said bluntly, gazing at her without much of a fuck about how she’ll react. She quickly turned to look at him, confused and irritated as soon as those words came out of his mouth.

“What the fuck?” She glared at him, but mostly, she was pissed at Ben. Could he not tell her that himself? Then Butcher had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction and she narrowed his eyes. He only raised his hands with a smirk on his face when she shoved him for laughing. “Assholes!” She didn’t wait for him to say anything, just rolled her eyes and started to walk angrily to where Ben was now changing into his uniform.

When she slammed the door open, the doorknob cracked a hole into the wall and she could hear the Legend shout asking what the noise was but she couldn’t give two fucks about answering. Ben turned around to look at her, his face was serious at first when he zipped up the front of his suit, but then he froze when he saw her fuming.

“Why the fuck are you benching me?” She heard some shuffling by the door and she glared at Hughie and Butcher who were being nosy, only catching Hughie scrambling away and pulling Butcher with him.

“I’m not benching you,” Ben started, turning away from her unnecessarily to cover his chest with the heavy armour piece. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I’ve been doing this alone for years. I don’t need you to protect me.” She narrowed her eyes at his back, staring at him as he practically ignored her. This was probably the longest conversation they’ve both had since that night, but the room was still thick with awkward and even sexual tension that set her skin on fire. “I’m going, fuck you if you don’t like it,” she said firmly after a few minutes of silence.

“The fuck you are,” he replied angrily, finally turning around to face her.

She hated herself, the way her body was already reacting to his hard stare. With his stupid green eyes practically boring into her, trying to force her to listen to him rather than get in the way of his focus. Because he knew he’d be too busy worrying about her getting mind-fucked to actually focus on anything. He could get Butcher and Hughie killed, but actually he didn’t give a shit about them, he could get her killed.

He couldn’t tell her that. If he did, she’d push him further away than she already had. To think he fucked up the one good thing he saw coming out of this shit mission, the one good thing in his entire miserable and disappointing life. He wanted her so bad and he wished he could take back what he said so things weren’t awkward between them. Because having her in any way that he could get her was better than this, but it was already out there. The implication of what he really wanted from her.

He couldn’t force her to want it. He couldn’t force her to like him. Hell, he didn’t even like himself. He was a fucking disappointment, so why would she think he was more than that? He was a fool and she was better than him. She didn’t sign up to work for Vought, she didn’t wear some stupid fucking suit for a slut, or get paid for saving the lives of the people in her city. She doesn’t give a shit about fame. She’s just her.

Y/N L/N, with a normal, boring job, and a secret life living up to the name her city gave her, the Guardian.

“Give me one good reason why it’s too dangerous for me to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for him to give her something. She knew he’d have way too many things to list and that each one would mean nothing to her. So, all he did was glare at her, cursing softly under his breath knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument, but fuck if it didn’t make him like her more.

It hadn’t gone as bad as Ben had thought it would go. Y/N didn’t get injured or even have to fight at all. Whether he’d liked it or not, he has Hughie to thank for that. There was no struggle or any big fight that broke out when they found Mindstorm with Hughie and Butcher, who was now awake.

Dan was distracted with Hughie and from a distance and at an angle, Ben threw his knife at Dan’s eye, preventing him from using his abilities on them. Y/N had been shocked, almost as much as Hughie when he’d bashed his head in with his shield, but the news he’d gotten from Mindstorm was something that left him feeling conflicted and angry, but most of all completely disappointed after calling Homelander.

“Everything good?” He heard Y/N speak up from the doorway. He forced himself to smile at her, not because he didn’t want to see her and wanted her to go away, but because he didn’t want to show that anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong anyway, not necessarily, he just didn’t want to believe that Homelander was his son, but it all made sense. Homelander was as disappointing as Ben’s father thought he was. Basically, Homelander was not the son Ben would have liked to have had.

“Yeah,” he responded, eyeing her every move guardedly. She shut the door behind her and looked around the room at first, probably expecting him to have had some granny or a sexworker in the room. He rolled his eyes, but knew she had every reason to think that about him. When she saw no one, she walked closer to him and he straightened up a little since she clearly was here for more than just small talk.

She didn’t seem to be avoiding him anymore, but that didn’t make him feel any better. She practically rejected him that night and made him feel unwanted. He still remembers the sting he felt when she just brushed him off. Earlier, she’d been pissed at him for slapping Hughie, for abandoning Butcher, and for being insensitive about the nun and the priest he’d killed, and he knew probably other things he did made her angry, but she got over it quickly. Despite having seen him lose it on more than one occasion, she always seemed to see straight through him and he hated it. Like right now, she tilted her head to the side slightly and her eyes moved across his face, trying to and succeeding in easily getting a read on him.

“Liar. You can’t hide that pathetically sad look on your face. You look like a kicked puppy,” she chuckled, looking away to trace random patterns on the surface of the table she leaned against. He narrowed his eyes at her and scoffed, looking away to stop her from doing that again, even though he missed hearing her and seeing her. “You’re not gonna tell me what Mindstorm said to you?” She bit her lip, watching his reaction to her question.

“Stop doing that,” he warned, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up at her again, really took her in because he missed her despite what she might think about him and despite the irritation she made him feel when she tried to get him to open up or talk about his feelings like he was some sissy. He couldn’t help his next actions, the expression on her face was so gentle and troubled that he found he’d somehow closed the distance between them and thoughtlessly pulled her into a kiss to ease all those things from her face.

He expected her to hit him or push him away, hell, all of those things, but she just stood there for the fleeting moment in which he pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled away, just slightly, he tried to gauge her reaction and saw mostly confusion on her face. He licked his lips and gently held her face, frustrated and needy for her, but all he did was gently brush his thumbs across her warm and soft cheeks.

“You don’t hate me,” he said quietly. It was the one thing he was sure of at this point. No one really treated him like he was a person. They were scared of him, for good reason, or they just needed his abilities. Not her. She wasn’t scared of him, not always, and she definitely wasn’t using him despite working with Butcher which she met through Maeve.

His brows were furrowed, just watching her curiously as she gazed at his face, analysing every twitch in his face, every change in expression. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, but she mimicked his face, brows furrowing as she thought about why she just couldn’t hate him the way everyone else did or even why she wasn’t afraid of him.

To be fair, she didn’t know anything about him except from what she’d seen of him getting tortured. Somehow, that meant more to her than all the people that died while he was doing his job. Somehow, her feelings for him seemed to sprout and bloom despite knowing how MM felt about him. She cared about the team, probably more than they cared about her, and that made Ben angry. They didn’t deserve her and neither did he.

She should have been afraid, she should hate him the way everyone else does, especially with knowing he’s killed dozens of innocent people, with his temper that would drive him to be unnecessarily violent, the toxic masculinity that exuded from him. He was everything she’d hate in a person, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t hate him. She wanted to help him get better and to be there for him every step of the way. As foolish as it sounded, she felt she could fix him or at least soften his personality because so far, she’s learned all the reasons why he is the way he is, and she thinks given the chance, he could actually change. Not that he’d ever let her help him.

That was why she was so panicked when he’d shown genuine care and interest in her. What if she gave him the chance to be with her? What if she ended up falling for him only to be discarded once he was bored with her? What if he was incapable of changing and he treated her just like he treats everyone else? If he loved the Countess and he treated her the way he did, why would it be any different with her?

He interrupted her thoughts with another kiss, a gentle and almost sweet kiss that was so unlike him. It was meant to put her at ease and it nearly did, she felt her stomach flutter either nervously or because it made her swoon. She felt how loosely he held her face, giving her an out, and easy escape from being anywhere near him. And even though her mind once again screamed at her to get out, her feet were planted where she stood and she started to kiss him back just as softly.

HIs beard tickled the skin around her lips, but she didn’t mind. Instead, she had memories of other times she’d felt that when he kissed her, times where he worshipped every inch of her body with his mouth, and had his head buried between her legs. Her heart was beating quickly and roughly in her chest at the feeling of him kissing her so gently, for the first time, it wasn’t rough and careless. His lips moved tenderly and slowly against hers, stealing the breath from the lungs and making her knees weak.

She’d never been kissed quite like that and she didn’t think Ben even had the capacity to give someone a kiss like that. He was gentle and he wasn’t pressing, but there was still a hint of desperation and need for her that made her cling to the straps on his thin waist.

His warm hands slowly moved from her face to the hem of her shirt, which he played with contemplatively before simply moving them underneath it. He grasped her hips and tugged her forward until she was pressed tightly against his body with a quiet moan from her being muffled against his mouth. He could feel all of her even when clothed fully, but the soft and flimsy material of her sleepwear only triggered all the memories he had of her own body being trapped beneath his. The way she felt so perfect under his hands, every curve and every dip of her body felt as if it had been sculpted just for his touch.

He pulled away from her plush lips just to pull her shirt up and off her body. Carefully and deliberately, he stripped her, dragging his hands and mouth along her form to replace every article of clothing removed from her. Her skin started to heat up the longer he took, her body tensed with each teasing touch of his, waves of shivers following every touch, kiss, suck, and bite. And soon, she was standing naked in front of him. Her skin was flushed and she was breathing as heavily as he was. Her eyes just stared up at him, filled with an endless conflict and desire that he understood, but it also hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Still, she was the one who slid her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back down for a searing kiss. Her fingers threading through his hair, keeping him close as he busied himself with taking his suit off with her help. He was impatient with himself, undoing every buckle and loosening every strap, zipping everything down as swiftly as he could until he was as naked as she was.

This was new for him. He wasn’t in a frenzy to fuck. He took his time, moved slowly, watching her desire for him bloom the longer he took. Suddenly, it hit him that it felt different and new.

He stared down at her, eyes sweeping over the expanse of her face as he slid his hands down her back and he bent his knees to reach the back of her thighs. Looking up at her and the way she looked down at him, it turned him on. Like he was worshipping her. It was short-lived when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him control of her body. He moved forward with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and he kissed her neck and shoulder, nuzzling her sensitive skin and inhaling the clean scent of her skin.

Her uneven breaths and the little sighs that slipped from her parted lips spurred him on the whole way to the bed he’d claimed as his own. He placed his knees on the soft mattress and carefully dipped her until she let go of him and let herself bounce slightly against the soft sheets. There was a little smile on her face when he gazed down at her, and for once, she wasn’t thinking about what her team would want or how anyone would feel if they saw her with Ben, she focused solely on what she wanted and how she felt.

At that moment, everything seemed to click. When she reached out for Ben’s face, he leaned down to meet her resting his arm by her head. Her fingers once again tangled in his soft hair when he sealed her lips with his in a purposeful kiss, firm and full of promise before he moved his mouth down to her jaw. His teeth grazed her jawline, sliding down until he bit gently at her pulse point, drawing a gasp and a little moan when he swiped his tongue across the spot and sucked possessively. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her nails pushing into the muscle of his shoulder.

Heat flooded between her legs and she arched her back, his hand sliding up her side and under the curve to hold her in place. She couldn't decide whether to squeeze his legs in attempts to close her own or to open them wider for him. He pretended not to notice that and continued to kiss her neck, his lip lingered on her skin, proprietorial and ravenous as they trailed down her body. He took his time and made sure his mouth had been on every inch of her skin as he moved lower, biting at her collarbones and sucking on the skin above her breasts.

Little by little, she became more impatient. His plump lips wrapped around one of her nipples, lapping and sucking so her breathing would pick up. He slid his hand up from the arch of her back to tweak her nipple and pinch it between his forefinger and thumb, on the edge of being painful and pleasurable. Her clit throbbed, desperate for him to pick up the pace or give her what she wanted, and she could feel just how wet she was as the air around them hit her core.

She could have touched herself if she wanted, but she liked the torture, the ache that grew between her legs just waiting and letting him take his time with her body. It was hard to stay in control and she pulled roughly at the soft strands of hair that she clung to in order to stop herself from ruining the fun. Everything felt so sensitive and a million times more delicious, as if induced by drugs, but there was something about him that gave her that high every time. Maybe it was the fact that she’s never quite been fucked or touched like this before.

He’d look up at her every now and then, smirking occasionally at the sight of her with her head tipped back, moaning and squirming impatiently. He gently teased her skin with his nose, trailing his lips down the centre of her stomach, squeezing her sides when she wiggled her hips to get his attention. He smiled and nipped at her hip bones, dragging his bearded mouth across her thighs while avoiding where she clearly needed him.

Eventually, there was no part of her body that was untouched by his mouth and hands--except for her aching and wet cunt. But when he got to it, he just huffed out a breath over her dripping cunt to watch her squirm and lifted himself back up her body. He pressed a hard kiss to her neck and then kissed her lips, his tongue easily entering her hot mouth. They both moaned into each other’s mouths as he practically devoured her mouth, firm and needy while holding the back of her neck and tilting her head so he could kiss her as hungrily as he wanted.

“You’re so goddamn delicious, doll.” He pulled away from her breathlessly, his lips wet and swollen. He sat back on his legs, enjoying the sight of her looking just as wrecked as he felt. She was flushed and warm and her hungry eyes were slowly dragging over his face and down his body. She licked her lips when she got to his cock, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip.

“Ben,” she murmured, a hint of neediness in her voice that made him smirk. Using her elbow to lift herself up, she reached over to wrap her hand around the base of his cock before he could continue to tease her.

“Shit,” he groaned. His hips bucked into her hand and she slowly started to lift her hand up, thumbing some precum over the soft head, and squeezing all the way down until he let out a strangled moan.

“Touch me,” she whispered, and even though he detected it being a command more than a plea, he complied. He dragged his hands up the back of her thighs and spread her legs, his hooded green eyes glued on her glistening folds.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart,” he praised, dragging two fingers from her slick entrance to her clit. He lifted the wet fingers to his face and she blushed when he inhaled the scent of her arousal before slipping the two fingers into his mouth with a satisfied moan. “Christ, you taste so good.” He brought his fingers back to her pussy, pushing his two fingers into her entrance, his fingertips curled to rub against her walls everytime he pushed them in and out, going deeper and deeper, slowly, and only going fast when he felt the way she expanded inside.

“Holy fuck, Ben,” she gasped, her pussy squeezing his fingers and gazing up at him with her pretty glazed eyes.

Even in her dazed state, she continued to jerk him off with quick, stuttered and uneven tugs. He could feel his own orgasm beginning to form with the way she was looking at him, his stomach tightening when his eyes flickered down to her hand, now wet and coated in his precum.

She moved her hips eagerly against his hand and only stopped when he flattened a large hand on her stomach, a small cry leaving her lips when he added a third finger into her squelching cunt. “That’s right, baby, cum on my fingers,” he encouraged, lowering his hand to her pelvis to quickly massage her clit with his thumb.

“Shit… Ben,” she hissed, letting her orgasm wash over her, wave after wave of pleasure making her body shake. He groaned softly, shoving his fingers deep into her cunt to brush his fingers against the sensitive spot deep inside over and over until she collapsed onto her back, her hand becoming still on his cock to wrap around his wrist instead.

“That’s my good girl,” he lauded, slowly slipping his fingers out of her. She murmured his name softly at the praise as he slid his hand up and down her sides comfortingly and stared down at his fingers. They were coated in clear slick and creamy cum that made his mouth water. “Shit, look at that,” he chuckled, licking his lips. He leaned over her, shoving a clean hand to the back of her head to grasp her hair. With a harsh pull, he forced her eyes open so she could watch him lick away her release from his fingers. “Make me cum and I’ll fill you up,” he promised, then shoved two of his saliva-coated fingers into her mouth, thrusting them in and out of her mouth the way he would if it was his cock.

He scooted closer, close enough so that her thighs were thrown over his and his cockhead brush against her stomach with every quick drag of her hand on his wet cock. He purposely pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth, moaning softly when she gagged momentarily and closed her eyes to blink tears away when he kept shoving them as deep as he could into her throat.

“No, no, look at me, honey. You’re so fucking pretty when you--oh, fuck,” he rasped, grunting softly in surprise. His cock twitched excitedly as hot tears flowed down her cheeks and she moaned softly when he tightened his grip on her hair. He came with a soft growl of her name, spilling hot and messy on her stomach and breasts, feeling an overwhelming intensity in his orgasm while gazing into her watery eyes. He didn’t know if it was the eye contact, or the way her eyes glazed over with tears with her lashes sticking together that pushed him over the edge, but whatever it was, it made him cum faster than they both expected.

“Jesus, Ben,” she laughed softly, releasing his now limp cock. He just panted heavily, leaning back on his legs with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. He basked in the aftershocks of the mind-blowing orgasm he just had with his hands on her hips and she licked her lips while wiping away tears from her cheeks and eyes.

He looked back down at her once he recomposed himself, catching her playing with his cum splattered on her chest and in the middle of lifting her fingers into her mouth. She looked at him and snickered when she saw the look on his face as she started to lick at the cum on her fingers, his eyes darkening and his cock hardening all over again.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her roughly. She moaned softly, pleasantly surprised when he rocked his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and over her clit teasingly. He reached between their bodies and lined himself up with her entrance, easily thrusting into her with a snap of his hips.

He carefully rocked his hips against hers, lifting himself up slightly so they parted from the searing kiss to gaze down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t protest, just slid her hands along the hefty planes of his back, stopping only when she got to his broad shoulders to hold onto them. He stopped suddenly after letting his eyes drift over her face, then he hid his own in her neck and slid his arm under the small of her back.

“Homelander’s my son,” he mumbled against the connection between her neck and shoulder. She froze and her eyes widened when she deciphered what he’d said and slid her hands from his back to push at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. “That’s what Mindstorm told me,” he added quietly.

“What the fuck, Ben?” She grumbled, yanking his hair in attempts to get him off her, but he just growled and swivelled his hips defiantly. “You’re gonna tell me that now?” She protested and he gave an unhumourous nod into her neck, lifting himself up just to kiss her to distract her from what he’d blurted out. She kissed him back begrudgingly with her eyes open.

“I knew you’d react this way,” he said softly against her lips. She bit his lip roughly and he hissed, pulling away to glare at her and was met with a fierce glare from her.

“Yeah, fuck you,” she muttered, squirming angrily in attempts to get away from him. She felt used, as if he’d hide that from her just to get a quick fuck.

“Please,” he whispered, pulling out when he realised she wasn’t giving him a chance to explain himself.

“Please what?” She spat, shoving him away to think about what he just revealed. Out of everyone she’s ever met, Homelander was someone she truly despised. He was an utter piece of shit and he had a long list of vile traits that she despised in people, supe or not. He was a fucking child and he was out of control, no one ever having told him ‘no’ his whole life. “What the fuck do you want from me?” She asked, moving away to pace around the room or even to leave Ben the same way she had before.

“You know what I want,” he retorted, suddenly it wasn’t about Homelander. Fear of being left alone again made Ben grab her arm to stop her from getting out of bed. “You’re not fucking stupid, sweetheart,” he reminded, gently tugging her back to him. She didn’t budge, but she looked over at him when he let her go. She caught a glimpse of the resignation on his face, the vulnerability she’d rarely seen on his face, before he could mask it. She sighed in defeat, deciding to hear him out after all.

“Ben…” She sat on the bed, facing him and reached out to brush his hair away from his face. He moved away from her touch, sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to her. She dropped her hand in her lap and watched him, her eyes drifting to the large window in front of him that let her see what he could no longer hide from her.

“If you’re not gonna say what I wanna hear, don’t say anything and get out,” he said harshly, his shoulders slumped and overall, he looked defeated. She’d expected him to lash out or to hear how he didn’t want to kill Homelander, but it was probably worse to see him like this.

“Ben, it won’t work out.” She said it softly, but it hurt him like a million knives in the chest. In reality, the hurt he felt hearing her say that didn’t compare to the forty years of torture he was put through in Russia.

“It could work… I could make it work,” he said quietly, “when we’re done with Black Noir and Homelander, and I will kill him… It’ll just be you and me, Y/N. Maybe… we can start a family somewhere else, far away from all this bullshit.” He looked over his shoulder slightly just to read her face when she remained quiet.

She chewed on her lip, frowning as she considered his words. He was still willing to kill Homelander, his son. That should be worth something. He actually wanted something normal when he was done with this and she was more surprised than doubtful of his words. He spoke so softly, as if he’d had this plan all his life and finally found someone who could fill in the faceless mother of the children he wanted in his fantasy. He was willing to retire and he wanted that with her.

After spending years being an abusive and toxic asshole, then wasting decades more of his life being tortured, it made sense to her that he just wanted to cherish the rest of his time doing shit he’s always wanted rather than trying to prove he was worth something. In many ways, being a father could fulfil that need to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment. After he’d been told that so much by his father, he was incapable of seeing himself as anything but a disappointment. This was his way out and she could easily open that door up for him.

Or she could slam that door in his face like a coward. She could continue to be too afraid to be hated by a team that didn’t give two fucks about her. Why she prioritised their opinions on her puzzled her as much as Ben being vulnerable right now.

“Get out,” he muttered, staring at her with his face hard. She blinked and focused on him again, her mouth fell open to say something, but he turned away and was sitting straight. The walls he’d let down were up again, probably stronger than ever before, and she made her way over to him on her knees, sliding her hand up his neck to cup his chin and tilt his head back so he’d look up at her.

He stared at her with steely eyes, but she kissed him, painfully squeezing his chin until he moaned and opened his mouth to let her tongue slip past his lips. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist, silently telling her to loosen her grip and she did, kissing him firmly, saying everything she couldn’t say with the heated kiss. He melted into her, turning slowly until she had to pull away to accommodate the new position he was kissing her in.

“I’m not gonna let you push me around and tell me what to do,” she murmured between kisses, moving up the bed with him until her head was settled against the fluffy pillows.

“I won’t do that,” he promised, taking his soft cock in his hand and jerking it until he was stiff and ready again.

“There’s a lot more,” she murmured distractedly.

“I can imagine,” he laughed softly, gently pushing himself into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

➥ your sword versus my dagger

taglist

@syrma-sensei @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

soldier boy masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy smut #the boys #the boys smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x fem!reader #soldier boy x female reader #3.3

518 notes · View notes

kvtie444 · 3 months

Text

°•★ SOLO .4

a/n: this took so long omds, i luv this song Summary: reader moves to LA for work and becomes the sturniolos editor, but what happens when she falls for someone unexplected… Warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing, suggestive?

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His words echo relentlessly in my mind.

"What, have you never been fucked senseless before?".

I toss and turn in my bed, desperate to find sleep, but my shameless thoughts make it nearly impossible.

"Well, if you wanna cum so hard you can't walk the next day, you know where to find me."

I groan and reach for my phone, checking the date and time: Friday, 4:18 am. The reminder of the car video I still needed to edit for today weighs heavily on my mind. I groan again, sinking back against my pillows, but as I close my eyes, vivid daydreams of Chris kissing down my body flood my mind. I try to push them away, reminding myself that he's practically my boss. I groan once more and turn over, attempting to banish the tempting thoughts.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Alone at the dining table, I stare blankly at my laptop screen, feeling the weight of the looming deadline for the car video. Nick had invited me over to make food and chill, providing a change of scenery from the unproductive comfort of my own bed. As he heads off for a shower, I'm left grappling with the hour-long footage I need to edit down for the video scheduled to go up in an hour.

But the task feels insurmountable. I doubt my ability to get the video out on time, and the guilt gnaws at me. One job, and I'm struggling to meet the deadline. I groan, running my hand over my face, pulling at the loose hairs that cover it. Exhaustion clouds my mind, sapping my motivation and focus. The pressure mounts swiftly, and I feel tears welling up against my palms as the overwhelming thoughts consume me. To make things worse, I could hear Chris and some girl he brought over downstairs.

As the door creaks open, I look up to see Matt entering the room, his expression filled with concern once he sees me. “Hey, hey, what’s going on” He walks over to me, his steps measured and gentle. With a comforting hand on my shoulder, he squeezes it reassuringly, his touch a balm to my frayed nerves. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I struggle to articulate my overwhelming emotions.

"I don’t know if this video will be ready on time, and it’s my only job, yet I messed it up," I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with suppressed sobs. Matt hushes me with a gentle shush, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down my arm. He murmurs words of reassurance, “You’re okay, everything okay, don’t worry about it”.

In that moment, I realize how fortunate I am to have Matt as a friend. His kindness and genuine concern envelop me, offering solace in the midst of my turmoil. I can't help but feel undeserving of his unwavering support.

My attention shifts to the stairs as I hear the sound of footsteps dragging themselves up them. Chris appears, clad in a black fresh love tracksuit, accompanied by some Instagram model wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, she walks to the fridge. Our eyes meet briefly through my bloodshot gaze, and I follow his movements as he leans against the counter.

“What’s up with you?” he mumbles, distractedly taking out his phone. Matt's glare intensifies, his jaw visibly clenched in annoyance. “It’s nothing, she’s fine,” he interjects on my behalf. I lower my gaze back to my keyboard, exhaling heavily.

As I focus on my editing, a flicker of movement catches my attention from the periphery of my vision. The girl leans in close to Chris, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispers something indistinct, punctuated by a playful giggle. With a dismissive gesture, she walks away, her hips swaying enticingly. I grit my teeth in frustration, seething at Chris's blatant disregard for boundaries.

Chris, true to form, can't resist one final display of arrogance, delivering a sharp slap to the girl's ass as she departs. I roll my eyes at his juvenile antics, feeling a surge of irritation and jealousy wash over me.

Left alone with Matt and Chris, I attempt to refocus on my editing task, but Chris's immaturity proves to be a persistent distraction. He reaches over and grabs the screen of my laptop, dragging it back to sneak a peek at my progress. I suppress a sigh at his lack of respect for my workspace. I grab the screen back and pull back to its original position.

“You on your period or something?”

The room hangs heavy with the weight of his words, a dense fog of tension settling over us as silence reigns. My gaze rises to meet his, finding his eyes hooded, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Can you go back to fucking your little girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone?" I retort sharply, the words dripping with venom as they escape my lips. Matt's reaction is palpable, his jaw visibly dropping in astonishment at the exchange unfolding before him.

A shift occurs in Chris's demeanor, a subtle transformation that darkens the intensity of his gaze. He leans in closer, his hands pressing down on the by the sides of my laptop, effectively trapping me in his presence. "Why? You jealous princess?" he taunts, his voice laced with arrogance.

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, and let out a scoff of disbelief. "Didn't seem so against it when we all went out for dinner," He continues. The realization of what he’s just said hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, breaking eye contact in a desperate attempt to deflect from the uncomfortable truth. His chuckle washes over me, his breath warm against my skin as he leans in closer, his teasing tone only serving to fuel my simmering anger.

"Don't speak to your boss like that," he teases, the words sending a surge of frustration coursing through me. My jaw clenches with determination, a silent vow forming in my mind as I refuse to allow him to undermine me any further.

"Chris, fuck off, you can’t say shit," Matt's voice cuts through the tension, gaining attention from all of us. They lock eyes for a fleeting moment before Chris releases a chuckle and retreats to his room.

I exhale a breath I didn't even realize I was holding as Matt rises from his seat and begins rummaging through his pantry, likely in search of a snack. Was this job really worth this much stress? Chris was hanging over me like a dark cloud adds another layer of stress I certainly didn't need. Did I even want to continue working under these circumstances?

Before I can entertain the thought further, a muffled sound interrupts our uneasy silence, causing both Matt and me to freeze in place. We exchange a glance, our expressions mirroring a mix of confusion. The sound repeats, growing louder and more distinct with each passing moment. It's unmistakably a moan.

My eyes squeeze shut in frustration and disbelief. Fucking Chris.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It had been a day since the whole kitchen incident, and while I managed to get the video uploaded only five minutes late, the lingering tension still weighed on my mind. As I walked home with my coffee in hand, a sudden ring in my pocket caught my attention. Pulling out my phone, I saw that it was Laura calling. My stomach churned slightly with anxiety. What if Chris had said something petty about me that could jeopardize my job? I bit the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! I'm in a rush right now, but I wanted to let you know that at the end of the month, I've booked tickets for Hawaii for you, Madi, and the boys. Obviously, this is a great opportunity for the boys to do some sort of vlog, but you deserve a trip like this," Laura's voice came through the phone, her excitement palpable. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of a trip to Hawaii, but the smile faded as the reality of potentially spending time with Chris sank in.

"Yeah, that's amazing! Thank you! I'll definitely be there," I replied, masking my hesitation with forced enthusiasm.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #angst #fluff #smut #imagine

177 notes · View notes

valentine-writes · 8 months

Text

their "i love you"s and other drabbles...

「 tws + notes: no tws, HEAVILY unedited, a little angst in sum partz but f it we ball (THERE'S SUMN WRONG W/ ME I NEVER DO THIS MUCH?), fluff, tried to add a lil bit of everyone, little thoughtz abt the characters,,, 」

↳ ft. ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, jessica drew, lyla, margo kess, miles morales (1610 and 42), miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, pavitr prabhakar, peter b parker, spider-man noir, and the spot/johnathan ohnn

「 gn!reader, romantic relationships <3 」

author's note: not my usual content but thought it wud b fun to whip up a few drabbles,, (´。＿。｀) diff format than usual too! all separate and stuff, w/ the characterz at the bottom being the ones the drabble applies to the most (ALL CAPZ MEANS I THOUGHT IT FIT THEM SUPER WELL!!!!) thought it wud b fun,,, altered lyrics are italicized, itz jus a pronoun change 2 make it gender neutral (❁´◡`❁) edit: my tags. do not fit. so i had to redo them. reblogz r super appreciated ^_^ i jus wanna make sure all fans of these characterz are being fed content <33

[ please don't forget about me - pompey ]

"and if you see me everyday / will I lose my shine?"

↳ always terrified of not being exciting and new to you– like one day, their appeal will fade. not like they understand what drew you to them in the first place, but they never asked. maybe you're just hanging around for the hell of it. maybe one day, they'll watch you leave and they'll have nothing to convince you to stay

"how many bad jokes will it take? / or awkward quiet times?"

↳ they wonder if they're already losing you slowly. everytime they speak to you, it's like they're trying to compensate for something. begging you to look at them– but not too close,,, just in case you notice how brutally flawed they are, beyond just the quirks you find endearing. maybe one day you'll look too deep into their eyes and you won't like what you see

▸ JOHNATHAN OHNN/THE SPOT, peter b parker

[ soft sounds from another planet - japanese breakfast ]

"i'll show you the way to hurt me"

↳ loving again is the biggest risk anyone who's been hurt like them could take. you make it worth the danger– the possibility of the pain they've grown all too familiar with. maybe for today, caution can be set aside. when it comes to you, they wouldn't mind letting their guard down.

"in search of a soft sound from another planet / in search of a quiet place to lay this to rest."

↳ they have to admit their past has burdened them in ways they can't even begin to communicate. they know you can't fix everything that has been broken in their lives. still, the comfort you provide is never taken for granted. you are their safe space– the soft sound from another planet. their quiet place to finally lay it all to rest. and suddenly, the aching in their chest doesn't eat them up inside as much as it used to.

you make it easy to love again.

▸ GWEN STACY, MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ our lullabye - miracle musical ]

"i was made for you / you were made for me"

↳ it's hard to believe that you're more than just a distant fantasy sometimes. they can't deny how much they've yearned for a love like the one you two share. something so sweet, so real. it's nothing like the movies or the fairytales, but is anything ever? even when things are messy and complicated, it's undeniable how perfect it all feels. how everything about the two of you just fits. they're inclined to thank every shooting star they've ever wished on, every birthday candle they've ever held their deepest desires in as they blew the flame out for the day you two met. by any manner of higher power or forces unseen to the human eye, they're certain fate was on their side to give them such a blessing.

"i'll love you 'till you're gone / our song goes on and on"

↳ they're determined to hold on as long as possible. all good things cannot last– but they try not to dwell on that thought. they hold onto the hope that you're the one thing that will stay. your love feels divine. radiant, in the way it overtakes them fully. they almost feel undeserving. so, no matter how small or how grand the action, they try to remind you every day, "i love you"s woven into their every being whenever you're around.

▸ lyla, SPIDER-MAN NOIR, johnathan ohnn/the spot

[ i will - mitski ]

"everything you feel is good / if you would only let you"

↳ sometimes they feel you holding back. they can't help but notice the tension in the room as you suppress the things you want to say, silence the thoughts in your head. they know it's not easy to be earnest all the time. but they love you– they care for you. and all they've ever wanted is for you to be authentic. if it's pure, how could it ever be wrong? maybe in your own time, you'll be able to unravel in front of them. they're by your side every step of the way. to finally have you open up to them– to be real, to be honest– it would mean the world to them. they want to show you they love every single part of you. they love you when you're upset, when you're crying, when you're angry– because it's you.

"so stay with me / hold my hand / there's no need / to be brave"

↳ they offer every reassurance they can give you. you no longer have to fend for yourself. those days of being alone are over. you can crumble apart if you need– there's no need for constant bravery anymore. you did such a good job picking yourself up, time and time again. now, they outstretch a hand to you, a silent way of saying, "let me help you this time."

▸ ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, JESSICA DREW, lyla, MILES MORALES (1610), PAVITR PRABHAKAR, PETER B PARKER tbh all of them but shhh

[ right side of my neck - faye webster ]

"you looked back at me once / but i looked back two times"

↳ absolutely smitten with you. it doesn't matter how hard you fell. they. fell. harder. and maybe it's not obvious to you. but they've never had someone who made them care so much. some part of them feels immature for feeling so in love,, like a school kid with a puppy crush. they find it ridiculous, how absolutely lovesick and enamoured they are with everything about you. whatever you feel and express towards them, they feel towards you three times as much. they try everyday to show it.

"the right side of my neck / still smells like you"

↳ you just seem to leave a part of you with them always. they can't ignore it– can't seem to escape your presence, even when you're not physically there. it felt like spiralling to insanity at first. but they've learned to appreciate it– find comfort in it, even. the way the smell of your shampoo lingers on the pillow they leant you when you stayed over, the way that the mug of tea (made just the way you like it) is still on the kitchen table from the morning after– you left your t-shirt once and you had to ask them directly for it back. they like keeping pieces of you near. it reminds them of how loved they are.

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, MARGO KESS, miles morales (1610 and 42), pavitr prabhakar, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ you love me - kimya dawson ]

"but when i met you, right away, i knew / you would never, ever, ever hurt me"

↳ you're used to pulling away. leave before they can leave you, before they even try to make you miss them– but the second you met them? they were insistent on proving that they were harmless. they could never dream of hurting you. and they see as you pull away, scared to get too close– and yet, every single time, they open their arms back to you.

"and the road's still long but you come along / and you hold my hand, and you understand"

↳ "when you're ready" has become second place in their favourite three word sentences. they remind you of these words constantly.

"when you're ready" means they don't mind that it's not now. ""when you're ready" means it doesn't matter how long they have to wait for you, they will. when you're ready" is another form of "i love you"

▸ MARGO KESS, MILES MORALES (1610), pavitr prabhakar, PETER B PARKER, spider-man noir

[ (you) on my arm - leith ross ]

"i wanna buy you pretty little things / and never ever lie to you"

↳ wants something simple with you. craves a form of sweet, normalcy. the mundane tasks and events of life seem far more appealing to them when you're in the picture. no, they never really imagined ever having a quiet life, yet the hope for one with you lingered. to buy you little gifts, to be the best they could possibly be to you, to drive around with you for the hell of it. they're certain anything could be heaven if you were there to accompany them.

a quiet life sounds nice.

"i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it"

↳ having you on their arm just makes them feel secure. keeping you close while showing you off to the world– showing you've got each other. they're a bit sappy for little things like this. everywhere you go, they never fail to extend an arm out to you. something about you makes them feel safer than ever.

▸ jessica drew, miles morales (1610), MILES MORALES (42), peter b parker, SPIDER-MAN NOIR

[ peach scone - hobo johnson ]

"so I fall to ground, collect myself and get ready to take over your heart / or at least your spare time"

↳ they try so incredibly hard to be the one for you. no matter what they try, they just seem to fumble and mess it up. they stumble over their words when they try to compliment you, they get weak in the knees when they try to make a move, and no matter how much they spend deliberating, and deliberating– they've got no clue how to win you over. hopefully you find their clumsy attempts endearing. they're making a fool of themself. and maybe, they haven't really said anything yet– but they're happy to at least hang around you in the meantime

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, MILES MORALES (1610), spider-man noir, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ dan the dancer - mitski ]

" he liked them more than life itself / i'm sure "

↳ he was quiet in the way he expressed his adoration. still, he did everything he could to ensure you would never go unloved. the way he looks into your eyes, taking you in like you are the loveliest thing on earth... it's only fitting. you're his world. maybe in the silent moments, when his fingers gently brush your cheek, admiring you– you'd begin to understand this.

▸ MILES MORALES (42), MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ lover // over the moon - alice phoebe lou ]

"i'm a lover / i feel it now / i'm a lover / just never knew how"

↳ they don't even try to hide how much they enjoy your company. you're special to them– why would they try to hide that? at this point, whenever you feel arms wrap around you from behind, you've learned to see their grinning face when you glance over your shoulder. maybe they've never been particularly shy about most things,, but now they're just twice as loud. it's inexplicable, the things you do to them. they hadn't anticipated being so utterly soft,,, not like they're complaining

▸ hobie brown/spider-punk, PAVITR PRABHAKAR

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 7 months

Text

Feral | JJK One Shot

Summary: Jungkook comes back from his Global Citizen Festival and tells you something funny that happened to him. Pairing: Jungkook x f!Reader | Established Relationship, idol!au Word Count: 2.5k~ Warnings: Explicit language and mature themes, mentions of bdsm, sub space and pet play A/N: Hey guys this is my first One Shot that I've uploaded to Tumblr and I'm scared but excited to see what you think. My asks and DMs are open if you have any feedback or just wanna say hi! A big thank you to @trina864 for helping me and encouraging me to start posting on here. Hopefully I'll be coming back with more fics very soon! P.s. Horribly edited so please excuse any errors

"Did you get to watch my performance tonight?" Jungkook asks, bright eyed and bushy tailed walking into our hotel room. I look at him with a pained expression "I'm sorry baby I really wanted to but I had an early morning meeting to talk about this big case we've been working on" I explain apologetically. "Oh" he deflates, sad that I wasn't watching. "That's okay, I know how hard you've been working lately, I understand" he says nodding his head, coming over to the bed to sit next to me and see what I'm working on. He acknowledges all the sleepless nights I've been having, and no matter how much he tries to get me to come to bed, I never listen. Most early mornings he finds me sleeping on my desk having passed out from exhaustion and he picks me up and brings me to bed to get at least a few comfortable hours of rest.

"You wanna know something funny that happened today?" he says with a toothy grin. I hum in acknowledgement and close my laptop taking a break to give him my full undivided attention. "After one of my songs today I took my inner ear out because I could hear Army chanting something and I wanted to try to understand but I couldn't. So I asked them to do it a bit louder and I guess they were barking at me. Like 'woof woof woof woof'. It happened to me before when I was on Good Morning America and I wasn't really sure what it meant but it looked like they were having fun so I think that would mean it's a good thing right?" he says with an amused expression. "Yes Jungkook it's a good thing" I say giggling at his confusion. "So what does that mean when they bark at me?" he says looking at me and tilting his head at me just like Bam does to him.

I take a few seconds to think about it but for the life of me I can't really seem to put it into words without making it even more confusing for myself. "Um, well I guess the basic thing that it means if they think you're really hot, like beyond hot" I start. "So sexy?" he says encouraging me to continue. "Yeah pretty much and have you ever really heard the expression of 'going wild' over something?" I ask. "Yeah?" he says dragging it out starting to understand the action a little bit more but still showing some confusion. "Well it's pretty much based on that among other things. Another thing people say is 'going feral' with is like beyond going crazy like when dogs are like foaming at the mouth" I say brining up an extreme example trying to help him get the picture. "You mean like when they have rabies?" he says now thoroughly amused. "I mean kinda but not really" I say tilting my head from from side to side a few times.

"One more thing I could think to link it to would be something a little on... well a little on the explicit side" I say cringing at having to explain this one. "Explicit? Army? Noooo!" he says laughing knowing damn well he has been showing a more explicit side of himself lately, amused that Army is following suit. "You're familiar with some basic concepts of bdsm right?" I say feeling a bit awkward bringing it up. "Well... yeah we've kind dabbled in it a little bit right?" he says with a smirk and poking my side" I flinch a bit at it and laugh nervously "Yeah but anyways, have you heard about pet play?" I ask hoping that I won't have to explain it too much. He tilts his his head up towards the ceiling in thought trying to remember if he's heard anything about it but comes up empty handed. "Mmm can't say that I have" he says and waits expectantly for my continued explanation.

"Basically it kind of links to a degradation kink, you know when a person gets aroused by getting humiliated. You know, stuff like that" he nods his head showing me he's trying to follow. "So they are saying, well not all of them but I'm sure some of them are thinking this. But they are saying that they want you to degrade them and put a leash on them and treat them like they’re your pet and you can do as you please with them" I say cringing at the fact that I have to have to have this sort of conversation to begin with. "Uh huh" he says feeling slightly uncomfortable but still rather amused. "I mean you're hot so I'm not surprised that people are ready to submit to you like that. "Like you do" he says now dropping his voice an octave, making me shudder. "We're not talking about me right now" I say laughing it off, getting off the bed and putting some distance between us. Jungkook swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stares at me with a hunger in his eyes that had not been there moments ago.

"Well why not? We're already on the subject, why not continue?" he says leaning his arms back on the bed and spreading his legs. "Because we're talking about your fans, you know Army?" I say continuing to back away from him until I hit a wall. "I don't want to talk about Army anymore, I spent some time with them today so now I want to spend some time with you" he says purposely toying with me, pushing all the right buttons. I let out a slight whimper not knowing how else to respond. "It's been a while since we tried something new hasn't it?" he says sitting up a bit. "Would you like to be my pet? Let me do whatever I want with you? I already know you like it when I call you names. What has been your favorite one recently? Slut? Whore? Bitch?" I whimper again while squeezing my thighs together. "Ah that's right, how fitting, would you like it if I put a leash on you, and let everyone see what a dirty little bitch you are for me? Make you crawl to me? I might even make you drink out of a bowl like the pretty little bitch you are. But wait that might be something you would enjoy. Would you like that pup?" he says waiting for my answer.

I start to respond but he holds his hand up cutting me off. "Aww look at that, my dumb pup forgot that dogs don't talk. Now try again love, bark once for yes and twice for no" I squirm in place not sure exactly how to respond since the thought of it does intrigue me and I can't lie when I say that I can feel myself getting wet. He raises his brow at me waiting for me to respond and I finally decide to let out one little bark under my breath while hanging my head in shame. "I'm sorry pup what was that? I couldn't quite hear you?" I let out another bark in response now feeling my cheeks starting to heat up. "One more time for me, just a little bit louder. Do you want to be my dumb little pup? My bitch? Poor baby has made up her mind but is too embarrassed to bark. Come on, just a little louder. "Woof" I finally respond loud and clear this time, hoping he won't make me do it again.

"Aw there we go. Looks like you aren't the dumb little bitch I thought you were. Puppy was just too shy to admit she wants me to play with her". I breathe out hoping he'll stop there but he decides to continue. "On all fours, now" he orders. This I can do, and I've done it multiple times without question when he has me in this sub space that I've been tipped over in. "Good girl" he says with a tone of voice he reserves for when he talks to Bam. For not knowing what this is he seems like quite the natural. "Baby come" he says ordering me to come to his side. I wince at the thought of me crawling over to him and he notices my hesitance, "Aw looks like my dumb little bitch still needs training. Puppy come here" he says in a more playful tone. I decide to surrender this time and crawl over to him and see his eyes rake over my body with a expression that I have never seen before but it makes me feel nervous but sexy. Once I sit in front of him I see him play with his lip rings and then rest on biting his lip for a second just gazing down on me.

"You did so well love" he says cupping my face in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek praising me for all that I've done. "You can come out if you want to" he says gently, coaxing me out of my sub space. I blink a few times and reach up to place my hand on top of his and he gives me soft smile, "There she is" he says and he looks down at me lovingly, "Looks like you really enjoyed that" he says helping me stand up. "You're one to talk" I say rubbing my aching knees that I only now just noticed. "Speaking of which you seemed like you're quite a natural for someone who isn't familiar with pet play" I say suspiciously. "Yeah about that..." he says trailing off. "Jeon Jungkook did you lie to me?" I say feeling utterly betrayed. "I'm sorry but you just looked super shy I just had to watch you explain it to me" he says pulling me onto his lap. I burry my face in the crook of his neck to hide my reddening face.

"You're so mean"I mumble, "Aw come on you know I love you, plus look at you, you're my adorable little pup who listened so well" he says rubbing my back. I sit up and look at him, "But I thought I was your bitch" I say with a roll of my eyes. "That too, but you're my cute puppy first and foremost" he says ruffling my hair. "Hey! Don't do that!" I whine fixing it, "We're not playing like that anymore". "Alright alright, I'll stop. We can pick this up later" he says giving me a quick kiss on my cheek and placing me on the bed walking over to his bag on the floor. "Huh" I scoff, "What makes you think I wanna do that again?" I say crossing my arms over my chest. "Do I really need to see how much of a mess you've made down there right now?" my eyes widen at his words and I cross my legs in response. "Exactly" he laughs pulling out his laptop and his phone, walking over to the small couch in the corner.

"What are you doing?" I ask curiously watching him prop up his phone. "I'm gonna go on live for a bit to check up on Army to see their reaction, especially since I dropped the teaser for 3D" he says with a smile. "You dropped it at the festival? Wow I can imagine the screams, especially after seeing their reaction to the proof teaser at your last concert in the US" I say shaking my head and smiling at the thought. "Yeah I'm even more excited to release it now!" he says feeling proud of himself. "You and Jack worked really hard on it so I'm sure they're gonna love it. Let's be real, if you just recoded a whole three minutes worth of you just breathing everyone would go crazy over it. That's basically what Hobi did in Jack in the Box right?" I finish laughing. He let's out a chuckle in response, "Yeah you're right, I'm sure it's gonna be great! Are you gonna go shower?" He asks watching me grab some stuff out of my bag. "Yeah I definitely need one, my back is killing me after having to sit in front of my computer all night.

"Okay wait for me and I'll join you in a bit yeah?" he says with a sly smile. "You better hurry up then mister, I'm not taking a three hour shower because you're still on live" I say remembering the nights he would stay up talking to and spending time with Army. "Okay just give me like 15 minutes" he begs. I laugh and start to walk over to the bathroom but he calls out to me. "Wait!" I turn around at the sound of him, "Can I have a kiss?" he says with a pout, to which I can't help but agree to. I give him a kiss and he deepens it and he promises between kisses that he'll give me a massage to entice me into really waiting for him. I nod my head and roll my eyes and turn to walk to bathroom to which he responds with a loud slap on my ass. "Hey!" I yell back scolding him, but he puts up his finger to his lips as he presses the button to go live telling me to stay quiet. I huff silently and close the door behind me and start the shower and hear him make excuses for the noise.

"Oh I think it's just the sound of someone taking a shower next door. Yeah it's loud huh? I guess the walls are pretty thin here. Oh! Jin! Jin Hyung!" I hear him continue, sounding excited at what I could only think is the sight of Jin commenting on the live. Smiling I get into the shower and let the warm water wash away all the stress from the day until I hear a slight jiggle of the door nob. "Ya! Woman open the door!" I laugh at his pleading and leave him there complaining for a while before letting him in. "Oops" I say "I guess I forgot" I finish, feigning innocence. "Uh huh, you forgot" he says rolling his eyes at me and giving me another slap on the ass. "Just get back in the shower" he says and I give him a kiss before doing just that. 'Tonight is gonna be a long night' I think to myself as I bite my lip standing under the stream of water, waiting for him to join me.

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#Jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook seven #bangtan #bts #kpop idol #idol au #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop

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kenshimybeloved · 6 months

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Part 3 of rambling !

The next time we see Johnny record something it’s Raiden using the amulet given to him by Liu Kang, and he’s finally excited to film. As things start to get significantly more interesting (considering they’re about to enter another realm through a fiery portal), we’ll see him pull his phone out more. But even with all of this going on around him, you’ll notice his facial expressions still aren’t exactly ecstatic. Impressed? Absolutely. Mesmerized? Not quite yet. However, we see him look over towards Kenshi while still recording the fiery portal, implying he didn’t have the conscious thought ‘I should get Kenshis reaction to this’- rather, he knows he should be paying attention to what’s happening in front of him, but he can’t help but look at the sexy swordsman. It’s then that he smiles and makes the decision to record him, maybe wanting to have a permanent reminder of what he looked like in this moment (who could blame him?). I also wanna point out real quick that Johnnys smile isn’t smug- it’s genuine. He’s not shoving the phone in Kenshis face to be purposely obnoxious, he just really likes him- even if he knows the feeling isn’t mutual (allegedly). It’s confirmed at the end of the game that Johnnys already decided Kenshi would be a main character of one or more of his films (he offers Kenshi to play himself at the end of the campaign, and in Johnnys tower ending as he’s saying he’s going to tell a bunch of mini stories we see Kenshi as one of the protags on his slideshow), so we can safely assume he’s recording Kenshi for the sake of his films, right? WRONG! That’s too easy. We also know he’s written Kung Lao and Raiden into his films, and he doesn’t make a point to shove his phone in their faces in this scene. There’s something special about Kenshi. Something intriguing. He’s so much more stoic and mysterious than the other two earth realmers he’s with, and quite the opposite of himself. When Kenshi notices Johnnys phone, he immediately pushes his hand away, clearly upset. Outside of their initial fight, this is the first time we see the two physically interact.

Edit: I forgot to add that while Kenshis reaction is definitely partly due to the fact that he finds Johnny to be annoying and disrespectful, I also think he’s uncomfortable with the idea of being seen. Throughout the story you’ll see Kenshi being his usual quiet self and nobody else really bats an eye- and I think he prefers it this way, it’s what he’s used to. When nobody’s looking at you there aren’t any expectations. But here comes Johnny, eager to make him more open. If I were Kenshi, this would definitely add to my apprehensions about Johnny. Why does he care so much? Why can’t he just let Kenshi be Kenshi? Not only do I think he’s uncomfortable being seen, I think it’s upsetting to him when Johnny pokes at him in front of others. It’s one thing to slowly open up to someone one-on-one, but in front of a bunch of strangers who’s opinions you highly value? What would they think if he started openly associating with Johnny? Would they lose respect for him? But again, I don’t even think Johnny was doing this intentionally this time. But Kenshi doesn’t know that, and I don’t think he even cares. It’s almost like Kenshi is also equally interested in Johnny, but because their personalities are so different they express it in different ways. Johnnys used to being in the spotlight and having zero privacy, trying to hide his feelings is just a waste of time. Kenshi is used to be reserved and unseen, the thought of openly liking someone is scary, especially someone like Johnny who draws a lot of attention. I also can’t really imagine it’s easy to form connections with people when you’ve been in a gang for such a long time. Anyways y’all know that song Golden by Harry Styles?

#mk1 #mortal kombat #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnshi #johnny x kenshi #who would’ve guessed I’d have a million words about an interaction that contains exactly zero #I’m trying to be normal about these two I really am #but they make it so hard #their storyline is just too good to not think about nonstop #navi rambles about johnshi

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thestoryofusstan · 4 months

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Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

part ii

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

warnings: none really.. not edited.

summary: in which y/n's friends book her an amazing gig, but they don't mention anything about her favorite singer being in attendance.

request: nope!

your friends were more than aware of your obsession with harry styles. it’s not like it was a secret.

so, it only made sense that when you started to sing in bars and cafes — anywhere, really — that you’d always incorporate something of his into it. whether it be a love on tour crewneck, a song of his, a one direction song, or a song about him — you loved to cover style, because.. who didn’t want to strut on a stage to a song everyone knows?

however, you weren’t aware of what they were planning when they somehow booked you in a very prestigious bar.

the dress-code for this bar was strict. your usual get-up of jeans and a crewneck — or jeans and anything, really — was vetoed before you could even ask. so, you searched through the depths and trenches of your closet until you found a black, skin-tight cocktail dress that ended right at your mid-thigh.

“seriously, babe. you know sign of the times inside and out. you’re just psyching yourself out,” one of your friends, melanie, told you.

“i know, but.. still.”

“you doubt yourself too much.”

“so you tell me everyday. now shoo! i’ve gotta be onstage in five.”

you weren’t exactly sure how you got onstage. you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

as you nervously scanned the crowd, you spoke into the mic, “hi.. my name is y/n. uh.. i’ll be singing some songs tonight. i figured since it’s christmas eve, i could sing through a few.. christmas classics or whatever. so.. yeah!”

a few people in the audience laughed at your awkwardness.

you sang through last christmas first, which really boosted your confidence. the audience was very interactive, singing, dancing, and clapping along.

you sang a few other christmas classics. santa baby, let it snow, things like that.

and then.. it was time for the section you very much dreaded. your songs.

“so.. these next few songs are songs that i wrote. they’re.. like.. my babies. so.. please be nice to them,” you laughed.

you nodded to the band. a silent signal that they could start the music.

“when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty. and i just can’t help but think.. you knew it was dirty. and maybe you were just a little sad, but there’s no excuse to lie to me like that. but when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty,” you took a deep breath before belting the chorus, “but she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older.”

the crowd cheered, giving you more confidence as you walked around the stage.

“and sometimes i kinda feel like i wanna forgive. but it never crossed your mind that maybe i’m still a kid. and i’m so used to being the adult. even when you say it’s not your fault. but i’m kinda getting sick and tired of crying. so please stop lying, and lying, and lying. she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older. to tell me she was twenty-eight.”

as the drums and electric guitar got more intense, the lights flashed different colors.

“to tell me she was twenty-eight… what the fuck is twenty-eight? you said she’s mature, so that makes it okay. and you said she likes sports, so that makes it okay. and she’s actually pretty, so that makes it okay. but there’s nothing you can say that makes twenty-eight okay.. to me.”

the crowd cheered as you lowered the mic. a smile overtook your face as you laughed.

you walked back over to the mic stand, putting the mic in the slot as a slow, piano-ballad type song started. the lights switched to a soft white.

“they’re always charismatic. and they’ll turn up the charm. their words do something magic, saying no is really hard. they’re over-generous, you’ll never pay the bills. they’ll fall in love in seconds. die for you, or probably kill. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it,” you shook your head, keeping your eyes closed as you sang, “‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. when you love a narcissist. so if you’re feeling crazy.. i wouldn’t be surprised. the only thing they’re good at’s knowing how to gaslight. then make you feel like the most beautiful in the world. while they’re sleeping with another girl. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it, ‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. ‘cause i felt like shit. so i know how it is. when you love a narcissist.”

the crowd cheered as it went straight into another song.

“when you’d yell, i would stay quiet. you never noticed i was quiet. i was taught that speaking up was talking back. always first to say, ‘i’m sorry’, ‘cause i wanted you to like me. and i thought that’s what it took to make it last. it’s a lose, lose. that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. i shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i was half of this dynamic. i was stable, you were manic. without you or with you comes with a cost. i got used to the excuses and emotional abuses. we kept moving the lines we never crossed. it’s a lose, lose that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i always think it’s over, but it never really is. but i can’t get the closure when you’re like this. can we switch? maybe this time you’ll be the bigger person. ‘cause i’m getting tired of carrying all your burden. it should be up to you, but you won’t admit the truth, oh-oh. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you.”

the crowd cheered again.

“thank you! we have.. four more songs tonight. this next one is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

a crew member came and slipped an electric guitar around your neck. you quietly thanked them as you cleared your throat and the music started.

“if you would’ve blinked, then i would’ve looked away at the first glance. if you tasted poison, you could’ve spit me out at the first chance. if i was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? and if i was a child, did it matter? if you got to wash your hands? oh-oh, oh. all i used to do was pray. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if you’d never looked my way, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone along with the righteous. if i never blushed, then they could’ve never whispered about this. and if you never saved me from boredom, i could’ve gone on as i was. but, lord, you made me feel important… and then you tried to erase us. oh-oh, oh. you’re a crisis of my faith. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if i’d only played it safe, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time…. if clarity’s in death, then why won’t this die? years of tearing down our banners, you and i. living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts. give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” as you held the note, the crowd screamed.

“and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time. oh, god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time.”

with the final strum of your electric guitar, the crowd stood up to applaud. the crew member switched out the electric guitar for an acoustic one.

“this next one is called ceilings.”

a little bit more applause.

“.. ceilings. plaster. can’t you just make it move faster? lovely to be sitting here with you. you’re kinda cute, but it’s raining. harder. my shoes are now full of water. lovely to be rained on with you. it’s kinda cute but it’s.. so short. then you’re drivin’ me home. and i don’t wanna leave, but i have to go. you kiss me in your car. and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before. before… bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does. lovely to just lay here with you. you’re kinda cute and i would say all of this. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos.. but it’s over. then you’re driving me home. and it kinda comes out as i get up to go. you kiss me in your car, and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before.. but it’s not real. and you don’t exist. and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed. it hits me in the car. and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before. before.”

you laughed as you saw melanie and your friends stand up in the back of the bar, dancing on stools.

“i can see my friends dancing.. so badly because they love the next song,” you laugh.

“once the flight had flown. with the wilt of the rose. i slept all alone. you still wouldn’t go. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every maiden’s bed for something greater, baby. was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? when you lost control. red blood, white snow. blue dress on a boat. your new girl is my clone,” you smiled, knowing was part comes next. “and did you think i didn’t see you, there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s. fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every model's bed for something greater, baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? oh. oh. think i didn’t see you? there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. oh. i was hoping you’d be there. and say the one thing i’be been wanting… but no.”

another round of applause as you passed off the guitar.

“so.. this song is not my song. i am.. very nervous for this, but.. this is sign of the times.”

you closed your eyes tightly as the music started, “just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. welcome to the final show. hope you're wearing your best clothes. you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky. you look pretty good down here. but you ain't really good.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? … just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. they told me that the end is near. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, have the time of your life. breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. remember everything will be alright. we can meet again somewhere. somewhere far away from here.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? just stop your crying. it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. they told me that the end is near we gotta get away from here. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets?” you finally opened your eyes, trying to find melanie, but instead, you find the last person you expected to be here.

the man whose song you’re literally singing.

harry was slightly weary when an over-excited girl with light pink hair came up to him and asked him — begged him, really — to come to her best friends show. he wasn’t sure what convinced him. or what possessed him to bring his mother and gemma along with him.

but he had to say, he didn’t.. regret it.

you were pretty — extremely pretty. and you were a crazy good singer. he was pretty sure you were singing his song better than him.

you swallowed your nerves as you sang the chorus and bridge, keeping eye contact even though you felt like shitting your pants. “we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we don't talk enough. we should open up. before it's all too much. will we ever learn? we've been here before. it's just what we know. stop your crying, baby. it's a sign of the times. we gotta get away. we got to get away..” you finally looked away, closing your eyes. “we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away.”

you let out a shaking exhale as the song ended, backing up from the mic. you bowed and blew kisses to the audience before practically sprinting offstage.

to: mel x

WHAT THE FUCK MELANIE WHY THE FUCK DID INJUST MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HARRY STYLES WHILE SINGING SIGN OF THE TIMES IM GONNA KILL

SELF.

from: mel xx

NOOO I INVITED HIM ITS FINE

to: mel xx

you

what.

from: mel xx

I SAW HIM A WEEK AFTER WE BOOKED YOU THE GIG AND MIGHT HAVE BEGGED HIM TO COME BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO MEET HIM AND WHAT BETTER WAY THAN THIS

to: mel xx

oh i dunno

ANY OTHER WAY?

from: mel xx

BABE IT IS FINE

HE BROUGHT HIS MUM AND GEMMA TOO

to: mel xx

WHAG

from: mel xx

HE SAID HE LOVED IT AND U WERE OHENOMENAL

NOW GET OUT HERE AND MEET HIM

after taking ten minutes to breath, you walked over to the bar, finding melanie pretty easily.

“i love you so much for playing is it over now!”

“i played it just for you and your psycho obsession with it,” you laughed as she yanked you into a hug.

you two pulled away, and you turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

your eyes widened when you were face to face with harry fucking styles.

“hey.. y/n, right?”

you blinked a few times… that couldn’t be real. this was most definitely a prank.

“.. are you alright?”

“yes! sorry, i’m.. yeah, i’m good. hi, yeah. i’m.. y/n.”

he smiled at you, “i’m harry. but.. you seem to already know that, since y’sang my song and all.”

“i.. yeah, i do know who you are,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well, i’m glad to know who you are as well.”

you had to bit your lip to keep from smiling like a psycho.

“oh, and uh.. happy christmas,” he smiled.

you furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone.

12:01, 25 december 2018

happy christmas, indeed.

a/n: edging 😛 LMAO this might get another part, it lowk just depends on how well it does!!

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