#I REALLY want to read more but I don’t wanna have to shift through all the bashing fics just to find a good one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strang3lov3 · 2 months

Text

Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”

The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x virgin reader

3K notes · View notes

dizscreams · 11 months

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT81ra4ov/

Hii! I've been binge reading most of ur fics, especially ur Hobie Brown ones :)) I was wondering if you could pls write one based off this tiktok, idk I feel like he'd give the most comforting hugs 😭 maybe the readers having a bad day and Hobie has to put up with it for the most part and she realizes how bad she's acting up and feels awful about it

STOP THIS TREND IS SO SWEET :(

MY BABY !

— Hobie Brown ★

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

A/N: this helped me w my motivation hdjshfh

“Hey love, you alright?” Your boyfriend, who was sitting on your bed, greeted you as you entered your bedroom. You looked upset and angry as you flopped down on the bed. “ ‘M fine, Hobie,” you grumbled your reply as you put your face into your pillow.

“You don’t look fine.” He put his hand on your back and rubbed soothing circles on it before you swatted his hand away. “I’m fine,” you told him sternly, “I just want to take a nap.”

“You want me to take one with ya?”

“No, I want to be alone.”

You said the last part quite harshly and Hobie raised an eyebrow. He got up off of the bed and left the room muttering a ‘fine then’. He went into the living room and slumped down on the couch. Hobie bounced his foot up and down as he searched for something to watch on the TV.

He didn’t want to leave you alone, he wanted to comfort you. The fact that you didn’t want him around you hurt, but he also understood you just needed to calm down a bit. So, for half of the afternoon he sat on the couch while on his phone and half watching the tv.

That didn’t stop him from looking at your bedroom door and quietly going in the room to check on you every now and then, though. At one point you had finally come out of the room but you barely even looked at Hobie and when he tried to make conversation you brushed him off.

“Hungry?” He asked as he watched you rummage through the refrigerator.

“Yep.”

Hobie stood up and walked towards you. “Want me to make you somethin?” He asked, stretching.

“I’m fine, Hobie.” You slammed the refrigerator door and went back into your room. Hobie tilted his head back and let out a sigh as he walked back to the couch and sat on it. He wanted to know what was the matter with you but he didn’t want to risk making you even more mad.

The only reason he was being patient was because he knew you. He knew you’d come around.. eventually! He debated going back to his own dimension a couple thousand times while he was waiting but he didn’t want to leave you.

Eventually ended up being in the evening when Hobie was about to doze off on the couch.

You on the other hand couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way you had treated your boyfriend. So, you slowly got up and opened your bedroom door to take a peak into the living room. You saw him sprawled out on the couch looking half awake.

You left the bedroom completely and walked over to the couch. “Hobie,” you asked quietly as you slightly shook him, “You awake?” He opened his eyes all the way and nodded, “Yeah, ‘M awake doll.” You smiled softly and sat at the end of the couch. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick today.” You gave him a sad look and he gave you a small smile in return. “C’mere,” he said as he shifted his position to sit back against the couch instead of laying across it. You made your way over to him and sat right next to him, leaning into his side.

You put your head on his shoulder and he put his arms around your middle. “I’m sorry, Hobie.” He chuckled, “t’s alright, love. Promise.” You shook your head, “It’s not.” You hugged him tighter and his smile only grew. “It is.”

You littered small kisses across his jaw and neck. “I really am sorry, baby. You’re too good to me,” you said against his skin. He shook his head and kissed the top of yours. “You wanna talk about why you’ve been in a mood all day?”

You smiled. and ranted to him while he traced shapes along your back.

#dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #across the spiderverse #not proofread!!! wooo

3K notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 2 months

Text

After

2k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you want Joel and finally get the opportunity to have him Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 23, Joel is in his late 40s), dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f/m), piv a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading, and for holding my hand with this one 💕🫶 Pic for mood only

Masterlist

***************

You had been watching the exchanges between Joel and Fedra soldiers for several weeks and finally he got scammed by one of them. When you offered him a new deal, you had a hard time hiding your satisfaction.

“You fucked up, Joel. Trusted the wrong guy,” you said with a smirk, “But I can help you.”

You had known him for several years. He sometimes did business with your father and never seemed interested in you. You were just “the daughter of”. He looked at you before letting out a surprised “You?”

“Yeah, me. Those supplies you need, I can get them for you. Come to my place tonight. I’ll show you a part of them and tell you how to get them all.”

He sighed, nodded, and left for his shift.

You heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and opened the door before he knocked. He must have worked in the sewers that day because he had showered and changed. His hair was slicked back and still slightly wet.

“Ok, show me the supplies.”

You took out half of them, having watched his previous exchanges. You spied on him regularly, but you never thought you'd have the chance to get some kind of leverage over him. You had your own apartment in the QZ, where you lived alone after moving out of your father’s place.

No man interested you, except Joel. In recent years, you started looking at him differently. His gaze, his broad back, his hands obsessed you. At night, in your bed, you thought of him when your fingers rolled over your clit or when you rubbed yourself lying against your pillow. You imagined his body against yours. His kisses on your neck, his hands on your breasts. You imagined what you would have felt if he’d buried his length inside you. You wondered what his cock looked like and a few times, when you met him, you dared to lower your gaze to his crotch.

You had boyfriends before, but never did more than quick handjobs and blowjobs. None of them wanted to go further and you suspected them of being afraid of your father. You thought Joel would know how to deal with you. And now you had leverage.

“What’s your price?”

“I wanna have sex with you”, you replied confidently, making him laugh.

“You’re just a kid. Ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m 23.”

“That’s what I said. A kid.”

“Come on, Joel. You can have all these supplies, just after having sex with me. Could be worse, don’t you think?”

“What about your dad?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not asking you to fuck my dad, right?”

He smirked.

“You really want my dick that bad, that you’d give me all the supplies for it?”

“Yeah, in fact I do.”

He sighed. “Ok, your choice. Make me hard, if you want it that bad.”

You smirked and kneeled before unzipping his jeans. When his cock slipped free from his boxers, your lips formed an O. He was semi-hard, and already his size was impressive.

“Fuck”, you breathed out.

“Your boyfriends don’t have these kinda cocks? Come on, suck it.”

His hair there was slightly graying. He smelled of soap. You took his cock in your hand and collected the precum with your thumb.

“Spit on it.”

You did as he said, and you started jerking him off. He was getting harder. You licked his tip, lingering your tongue on his slit, filling your throat with his taste. You rounded your lips and took him in your mouth, applying yourself, breathing through your nose. You inwardly thanked the cocks you had practiced on before. Your head was bobbing and rising, and he was now fully hard. His cock was filling your entire mouth, precum flowing, and his taste was intoxicating you.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep goin’. You’re doing great.”

It was the first time a man spoke to you this way, and you were soaked. Gaze fixed on him, you took his cock out of your mouth and licked his entire length. From the base of his shaft to the slit. Then you licked one of his balls and took it in your mouth.

“Fuck…yeah, keep goin’. Didn’t know your father raised such a slut.”

You moved to the other ball, still jerking him, your thumb caressing his balls.

“Yeah…shit. Take my cock in your mouth again now. Keep suckin’ baby, just like that.”

His praise encouraged you. His hand was on your head, not applying any pressure. But when you took him back in your mouth, he held your head between his palms.

“Gonna fuck your throat now.”

He pushed all the way in, slowly, but giving you time to get used to his girth, to breathe calmly.

“Stay like that, don’t move. Yeah…good girl.”

He pulled back until only his tip remained in your mouth, and thrusted in again, faster, hitting the back of your throat. Again, he held you against him, your nose buried in his hair. Then he fucked your throat. You heard him grunt, and you were afraid he would shoot his cum down your throat. Like the other guys before. But Joel wasn’t like them. He was fucking your throat for a while, letting you catch your breath from time to time by pulling out. He was smirking watching the string of saliva connect your mouth to his cock. Finally he released you.

“Lie down on the bed and take off your clothes. Show me that cunt.”

You took off your clothes: t-shirt, jeans and panties, lay down and spread your legs, showing him your dripping pussy. He stroked himself a few times, eyes on you.

“You really want that? Ain’t got any boys of your age to fuck you?”

“Don’t want them.”

He looked at you again and shrugged before taking off his clothes.

“Need to stretch you first. Don’t wanna tear that slit.”

Shivers ran through your body when he placed his mouth on your folds and his tongue ran over them. “Fuck,” you moaned. Other men had gone down on you before, but he was different. Joel was eating you like a starving man, lapping at your pussy, drinking all the wetness that flowed from it. And he was hot. He was looking at you with a piercing stare while his tongue was buried in you. His broad shoulders were forcing your thighs open, and his hands were keeping them against the sheets.

“Yeah, you really want it…,” he growled between your thighs. And he was right. You wanted him, you wanted all of him, and you were moaning nonstop. He placed his lips around your clit, swirled his tongue over it and pushed his middle finger into your core, making you whimper. He added his index finger and you winced.

“You’re fuckin’ tight…when was your last fuck?”

“Shit, who cares? Keep goin’.”

He shrugged again, and thrusted both of his thick fingers into you. You focused on your clit, moaning. He was fucking your cunt with his digits easily now. You felt your wetness flowing down to your ass.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, you can do it. Give it to me, then I’ll fuck you.”

He sucked your clit again and your body shuddered, squirming under his tongue and fingers.

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl, clenching on my fingers like that. Want to get fucked that bad, uh? I’m gonna give it to you now.”

He carefully removed his fingers, and lapped between your folds one last time. When he stood up, you looked at his cock, hard as steel now, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Sure you can take it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I can take it, Joel.”

He nodded and laid between your thighs, cock in his hand, and he pressed it against your entrance before pushing lightly. You gasped and he pulled out.

“What is it?”

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and a tear ran down your cheek.

“Fuck, don’t tell me…don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. You nodded shyly.

“Damn, what’s wrong with you? I ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“Please, Joel! I want it. Please.”

“I…fuck…sweetheart, I ain’t for first time. That cock ain’t for first times. I'm sorry."

“Please. Just…I don’t know, go slow?”

“Shit…It’s one thing to fuck you. Being your first time, is something else. The fuck is wrong with you? Can't you have your first time with a good boy in a decent place…But not with me, not as my payment.”

“Stop protecting me, or whatever you’re doing. Just fuck me. How many times do I have to tell you I want it?”

He looked at you, hesitant. You expected him to shrug but he didn’t. He laid between your thighs again. His tip nestled at your entrance. He pushed in again, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. He must have felt you tense, even if it was involuntarily, even if you wanted it, and he caressed your cheek. He pressed his lips to yours with a sweetness you didn’t expect coming from him.

Joel’s ruthless attitude was well known in the QZ. And here, right now, he was offering you an unexpected kindness. His lips were warm and soft. You felt your heart race when his tongue sought yours, passing the barrier of your lips. His cock twitched inside your walls. Before kissing you, he had paused pushing in, only his tip nestling inside you. He pulled away from your face and took your hands in his. He placed them on either side of your head, against the mattress, and said, “hold my hands, baby. Hold ‘em tight.” His body was warm against yours. Somehow, you felt reassured by his weight pressing you down.

So you squeezed his hands, and he looked at you, pointing his chin towards you, as if to say “ready?” You nodded, and he thrusted in again, muttering “fuck” through his clenched teeth.

He pushed halfway inside your pussy and you closed your eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured. You bit your lip as you opened your eyes, struggling not to tell him to stop, not to let the fear overwhelm you. He pulled back, his eyes in yours, keeping just the tip at your entrance, before thrusting in again. This time he didn’t stop. You squeezed his hands tighter and held your breath, until he bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours, pausing deep inside you, and said, “Breath, sweetheart. You’re gonna be ok.”

He pulled back before thrusting in again, his movements were smooth and gentle. Your pain was gone, and the way he buried himself inside you, caressing your folds, made you squeeze his shaft. Your gaze remained fixed on his, devouring him. His brown eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the brown curls of his now dry hair.

He stopped again and you pleaded “no, no, no, please, don’t stop. It’s…it’s good, it doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I know, baby, but…fuck. I need a minute. You’re too tight. Lemme…hold my breath, ok? Or I ain’t gonna last.”

You nodded, but you had a hard time stopping your hips from rolling towards him. You didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to stop feeling him in you. So you focused on him again. His nose, his mustache, his lips, and his patchy beard. You let go of his hands and placed yours on his biceps. You wanted to feel his muscles under your fingers, the warmth of his skin under yours.

“Shit…ok. How do you feel, baby?”

“I’m ok, Joel. Told you I could take it”, you said proudly with a cute smile - at least you hoped.

He smiled and kissed you again, as he started to fuck you, a little deeper this time, slightly faster.

You roamed your fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his back. His lips left yours, and his nose ran across your cheek before brushing your neck. His soft mustache made you shiver, and when he kissed the delicate skin there, everything you had imagined about him came back to you. He was perfect, just like in your fantasies.

He was fucking you slowly again, and you spread your thighs to feel him deeper in you. He was rubbing his pelvis against your clit, and you felt another orgasm building. Different from all the others you had so far. A deeper one, coming from the depths of your body, and you were moaning at every thrust.

“You like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes Joel, it’s so good…I don't want it to stop, please, don’t stop..”

He kissed your neck again, and said “I won’t. I know you’re good. You feel it coming?”

“I…fuck, yeah! How do you know?”

He gave a confident little nod, just as your orgasm overwhelmed you and made you clench on his cock. You whimpered and he held you tighter against him, his arms under your shoulders.

He whispered in your ear, “you’re such a good girl, coming on my cock. Damn, you’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

You could barely hear him, and your body was still trembling.

“Joel…,” you whined.

“I know, baby, I know…You’re ok. You’re ok.”

He kept thrusting into you the whole time, slowly, deeply, and you felt like his cock was made for you. You knew it was a dangerous thing to think, but couldn’t help it.

You heard him whisper in your ear again, “wanna try something, sweetheart?”

“I’m not sure if I can-”

He stopped moving, and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Of course you trusted him. Right here, right now, he seemed to be the most trustworthy person in your world.

“I’m gonna lay on my back, and you’re gonna ride me. I’ll help you if you need me.”

You nodded again, and when he withdrew you whimpered, crying his loss as silently as you could. He lay down on his back, and when you saw the stained sheets you froze. “It’s ok. Nothing that can't come off after washing. And if it doesn't go away I'll give you other ones.”

You realized that he was constantly reassuring you since he found out that you were a virgin, and had never been rough. Your heart sank again.

You straddled him and whispered “how do I do it?” You felt inexperienced and clumsy, but once again he didn’t judge you.

“Take my cock in your hand, use me how you want it. You’re in control.”

You positioned his tip at your entrance and he nodded encouragingly. You lowered yourself onto his shaft, feeling your pussy welcome him. You didn't dare take all of him at first, and you rolled your hips slightly, your chest against his.

“Yeah, just like that baby”, he said, caressing your back.

When you felt like you could take more, you welcomed him deeper, whimpering in his neck, rubbing your cheek against his beard, as if to forget the heat in your core. You slid down his shaft, your hands roaming his cheeks, his neck, his torso. You wanted to feel everything. To fill all your five senses with just him.

You sat up, ready to take him fully. He placed his large hands on your breasts and hard nipples. You welcomed his warmth and covered his hands with yours. You were feeling his cock differently. Deeply. You looked at him, he seemed wrecked and you didn’t expect it.

“I’m not gonna last much longer. Rub your clit now, baby. Come on my cock one last time”, he said.

You nodded, and placed your finger on your clit. You felt fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him, but there were no red flags in him. You wondered if that would change the next time you’d see him, if he would avoid you. You pushed the idea out of your mind, focusing on your sensations. You kept riding him, eager to show him you were learning how to do it right. How much you loved it. And you truly did. Your finger was swirling over your clit, and you couldn’t believe that another orgasm was building in you.

“Joel…I’m gonna cum again, it’s…fuck, it’s so good.”

“Yeah, you like that, baby? Can feel it…you're gonna clench on my cock again? Gonna soak it, till you’ll drip on my balls?” His words made you whimper and you came a third time on his cock. Your head fell back, and he waited as long as he could before he lifted you up lightly and pulled out. He jerked off quickly, then spurted his cum against your thighs and your pussy, growling.

You laid against him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and he held you in his arms. You knew that you wanted to feel him again. To feel his lips, his hands on you. His cock in your mouth and in your cunt. You played tough when he arrived at your place, and now you felt different, your heart wanted to be filled too.

Again, the word “after” flashed in your mind, and pain twisted your heart.

****************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #virginity loss #friends of juice collective #joel x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel x female reader #tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #tlou fic

921 notes · View notes

4mnji · 25 days

Text

FORGIVE ME, BABY ᡣ𐭩 eren yeager x reader

synopsis: u find out ur fwb has been fucking other girls on the low and u hate being one of his options, so he comes over to “apologize” to you

warnings: kissessss, pussy eating, fingering, orgasm denial, choking, pet names (baby, my love, princess), eren is just a lil mean n nonchalant 😠, reader is kinda possessive hehe 🎀, reader and eren r both in their 3rd year of college, once again written with a black women in mind but anyone can read

wc: 1.4k

a/n: here’s another fic that has been collecting dust in my notes for a hot minute. i hope yall enjoy 💋

you’re chilling on your bed, scrolling through instagram bored outta your mind when you get a call from your fuck buddy, eren. you shot up from ur position on the bed making sure u looked good enough to answer the facetime call. when you were just about to pick up, you stopped in your tracks and let it ring until the call eventually went away.

you wanted to pick up, you really did but you had remembered that just a few days ago mikasa, your best friend, had sent you a screenshot of one of her instagram mutuals close friends post with a message undernesth it saying “isn’t that ur man??”. you clicked on the screenshot and it was a picture of eren and some random girl laying in bed, eren with his face buried deep into her neck displaying all the hickeys he must’ve gotten from her with her hand touching his back. you instantly knew it was eren because of the tattoo behind his ear. obviously you knew you and eren weren’t together and probably would never be, but you just couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him give the d to anyone else who wasn’t u when he could simply just hit you up if he wanted a good fuck. your phone dinged 2 times, making you snap out of your trance.

rennie 💋💋

why u ain’t pick up?

i have ur location, ik ur ass is home.

you rolled your eyes at his messages, deciding not to text him back and just call him instead. he picks up on the first ring, instantly questioning you, not even giving u a proper greeting. “why didn’t you pick up?” he says with a blank stare. “well hello to you too” you scoff which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he chooses to ignore it. “i was in the bathroom.” you lied. eren nods his head, looking away from the camera not saying anything. there’s a moment of silence before he breaks it and shifts his focus back onto you. “i wanna come over, i miss you.” you shake ur head laughing a bit at his statement. “you don’t miss me, you was just with some other girl like 2 days ago. if you really missed me you would’ve came to me instead of her” eren opens his mouth to speak, but you countinue talking. “eren, you know how i feel about being one of your lil hoes. if you wanna have multiple girls on your roster and pick and choose who u want to fuck on what days, you can get the fuck off my line because i’m not gonna be apart of that bullshit.”

eren sighs and doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. he thinks about his next actions and choice of words carefully. on one hand, he can argue with you, which would then lead to you not talking to him for a week, ignoring all his messages and calls and then eventually you’ll get tired of doing that and tell him to come over so y’all can “talk”. or he can just agree with whatever you were saying—and he chose the latter. his patience was wearing thin, he actually did miss you and he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of seeing you with some stupid argument.

after thinking out his words he finally speaks “you’re right princess, i’m sorry” he says trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. honestly, eren didn’t give a fuck if u did or didn’t like his lifestyle, he does whatever the hell he wants to do. however, he didn’t want u to get any more upset with him than u already were, so he decided to make u feel like u had the upper hand so u would let him come over.

you were about to open your mouth to say some slick shit to him because you knew that these type of conversations between the two of you always ended up in some type of back and forth argument, so you were taken aback when he not only agreed with what you were saying, but even apologized. and eren never apologizes. “im right?” u question, confusion laced in your tone. “yea baby, you are and i’m sorry for making you feel that way. i’ll stop fucking around with all these girls i promise, just let me come over so i can make it up to you properly” after hearing all of eren’s empty promises and him actually “agreeing” with what u had to say for once, you folded immediately and told him to come over. you probably would’ve been standing on buisness a little bit more if u didn’t crave his touch so much but you did, you needed wanted him badly.

once you gave eren the green light that he can come over he was there in less than fifteen minutes and had you butt naked on your bed in less than five.

“keep your legs up, baby” eren instructs and u do as he says. you lift your legs up, locking your arms around them to keep them in place. eren begins to kiss all over the lower half of your tummy and slowly trails down to your pretty pussy. his kisses are so sweet, slow, and sensual that is has your toes curling in the air.

“mmm ren..f-feels good” you mutter out while letting out soft moans. eren hums, which sends a little vibration into you. eren knew u were close, even if u didn’t tell him u were. he was always so good at reading u like a book, but for now he decided to play dumb by pulling away and pretending like he didn’t know why u let out that little grunt when he did. before you can question why he stopped he starts rubbing on your puffy clit while looking into your eyes.

“y/n, i really am sorry that i didn’t come to you the other day. i don’t know what i was thinking princess, you think you can forgive me?” eren coos at you, with a little smirk on his face that goes unnoticed by you since your head is in the clouds with the way he’s rubbing on you. when he doesn’t get a response he slaps your pussy, earning a loud whine from you. “you didn’t answer me my love. you forgive me?” he asks again. “y-yes eren…i-i forgive you!” u hardly manage to let out.

eren smiles at you before he gives the lower half of your stomach another wet kiss. he moves his head back down so he can start making out with your pussy again. he’s being so sloppy with it but lord it feels so good. you try to push eren’s head away but he doesn’t let up and instead starts adding two of his long digits into your wet pussy while eating it.

you had no more strength left in your body to push his head away with the way he was eating and fingering your pussy. “erennnn im so closeee!!” you whine. and just when you were about to have your release, eren stops. he lifts his body up so he can sit down straight on the bed and he looks down at ur trembling body and just laughs.

“rennn what are u doing…?” u question quietly. eren rests his large palm on the right side of your cheek “i’m glad you forgive me, but you know…” he pretends to think for a moment, “i never got an apology from you for telling me what to do and you know i hate that bossy shit” his hands slides up to your neck and he gives it a little squeeze just enough to make you cough a bit. you rest ur smaller hands on top of eren’s, mentally hoping that you can make him forgive you and he’ll forget about all this and just make you cum.

“r-ren i swear i wont do it again im really sorry i-“ eren cuts you off and leans down to press a quick kiss onto your lips that were now swollen from you biting on them previously. he lets go of your neck and gives you his signature annoying (but sexy) smirk and god you wished you could slap that stupid look off his face, but you’re in such a weak state right now from how he was eating you out </3.

“show me how sorry you are and maybe i’ll think about forgiving you, sound good princess?”

#forgive my shitty smut writing </3 #anyways i’m working on an ony fic yayyy #eren yeager #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren x black!reader #x reader #eren aot #eren smut #aot fic #4mnji ᯓ★

369 notes · View notes

rustedhearts · 5 months

Text

let it snow (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: what happens when you're snowed in with your best friend (and there's a lot of sexual tension)?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the only living boy in indiana ✶ christmas carols ✶ the library

tags: fluff, mutual pining, best friend!steve

"oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go: let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!"

— let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!, dean martin

somewhere in indiana. december, 1976.

“That snow’s really comin’ down,” Steve mused from his bedroom window.

You glanced up from your book, splayed on your stomach against his duvet. “It’ll be fine.”

Steve let his drape drop back into place over the window, frosted with ice and fogging with the heat from his radiator. He wandered back toward the bed, flopping beside you and jostling the mattress. You huffed into your current chapter.

“Not worried about missing your date tonight?”

You shrugged, flipping the page that you haven’t even read. “Eh. He’s kind of boring anyway."

"Well, yeah," Steve scoffed, twisting to lay on his back. The blankets bunched up with his shifting. "His name is Peter."

"Your name is Steve."

Steve's head snapped your way to sharpen his eyes in a glare. "Hey."

A slow, sideways smile plucked at your lips. You turned back to your book and stifled a giggle, though it burst free when his fingers poked your side.

"Wanna go in the basement? I need a light and Mom'll kill me if she smells it up here."

You closed your book around your finger and gazed at him over your shoulder. "They won't be home for hours."

"It lingers, sweetheart."

“Gross.” You scrunched up your nose and tried to ignore the pulsing ache in your chest. Bless the cold for keeping the heat from rushing to your face. “Don’t call me that.”

Steve rolled off the bed and to his feet, rushing the door and paying no mind to your distaste.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he called, already halfway down the hall. "We can dip into some of my dad's scotch."

So half an hour later, Steve was on his second Winston—the first stubbed out in the glass ashtray on the coffee table—and you were nursing a mug of scotch. Your mug had Santa on it, and you traced his beard with the edge of your nail as Steve fiddled with the stereo.

"Don't have any Christmas tunes," he'd muttered once you settled in the freezing cold basement. "But we can break out the winter music."

"And what do you consider 'winter music?'" you asked.

He lit up a Winston and clenched it between his teeth, already rifling through his baskets of vinyl. "Anything as cold and dreary as this damn town."

Now, Steve was bopping his hips to a jazzy tune found on a very old record from early high school. You remember the day he found it at the record store. It was during his "blue period," where all he wanted to listen to was jazz and blues.

You hid your grin behind another sip as Steve made finger guns toward the ceiling in time to the trumpet of the song, though a giggle burst forth into a gulp of scotch. His head snapped your way, one finger gun coming to pull his cigarette away.

"I hear your giggles, Miss. Grinch," he teased, swinging his leg over the back of the sofa to sit on the edge.

You swallowed down the pungent liquor, wincing when it stung. "I'm not a Grinch. I just don't like Christmas the same way you do, you know that."

Steve blew a cloud of smoke though his teeth. "Yeah, never understood that, by the way."

"Not for you to understand, Hair."

Steve narrowed his eyes at you, pointing the ashed end of his cigarette your way. "Don't call me that."

You quirked a brow, chin tipping up defiantly. "Or what?"

Steve cooly mouthed at his cigarette a moment more. He carefully slid down the back of the couch until he was seated near your socked feet, leaning forward to stub his second Winston out. As it died out in the mess of ash, Steve hooked his arm around your knees and yanked you close.

"Steve," you warned, voice knocked a pitch up. "Don't!"

It took everything in you not to spill your scotch as Steve's thin fingers prodded at your sides. He knew just what spots to press on, just where to squeeze and jiggle to have you twisting and writhing in a fit of laughter. The kind of laughter that had you aching with soreness. The kind of laughter that sent you back to infancy together.

Steve swooped the mug out of your hand and placed it on the coffee table before it could fall—but only so he could ignore your giggled protests to stop as the pair of you slipped off the couch. You tumbled to the hard floor together, a mess of limbs on concrete.

Soon, you were pinned under his heavy weight. His hands stopped tickling and rested stilly on your waist. They slipped under your sweater in the commotion, and now his palms braced your bare flesh without barrier. You could feel him between your legs—the sheer size of him, pushing your thighs apart and stretching them to sting. The outline of him pressed against his jeans.

The laughter subsided to breathless sighs. You gazed up at his pink-cheeked face, splotched with excitement. Your stomach was in your throat. The record stopped spinning some time ago, and now the empty scratch of needle turn crackled through the empty house. The end of your nose was frozen from the cold, but the rest of you was on fire pressed up against Steve.

Steve: your best friend.

"You're so soft," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. His thumb started to move in odd patterns under your shirt. You were suddenly and extremely aware of your hands around his arms—and how firm his biceps were under his sleeves. Every breath that touched your face smelled like Winston smoke. There was a tear in the rug underneath you and it was tickling your cheek.

"Th-thank you."

His thumbs continued. The breathing shallowed. The record spun on an empty track. His eyes were such a pretty color—or, an amalgamation of many colors all in one pretty iris.

You swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. "I-I should go. Still...try to make my date."

Steve nodded, though he, too, was lost in your eyes. He never noticed how pretty the shape of your eyes were. How long and dainty the lashes were, how they brushed your cheeks with every blink. Did you know? Had you walked around with all this glorious beauty his entire life?

How could he have been so blind?

"Steve," you interrupted. "Get off me."

Steve scrambled to release you of his weight, rolling to his feet and brushing off his jeans. He helped you up—a gentle hand around your arm—and watched you grab your coat from the hook near the door. You've had that coat for years—the fur-lined collar and cuffed sleeves were full of lint and cat hair, and there was a button missing at the bottom.

While you were fishing for your gloves in the pockets, Steve moved the lace drapes over the back door and peered up the steps. There was about three feet of snow blocking the door, and as he watched, more piled over the staircase and across the yard.

"Uh...not sure you should go out in this," he announced.

You flicked your hair out of your face with mittened hands and huffed. "What?"

"The snow's pretty bad—"

"We live in Indiana, Steve. I've seen plenty of snow."

Steve dropped the snow and stepped away, arms folded over his chest. "Is Peter really worth getting stuck in a snowstorm?"

You cocked your foot out, mimicking his folded arms. "Maybe. He-he might be. I don't know."

It was the way his jaw tipped up at you, how his brows raised and nestled together, how his lip curled into a grin akin to the sixteen year old that never got told 'no.' It was the way your heart thumped in your ears with deafening force.

You weren't sure you could be around him right now. Not without wondering how his lips tasted. Not without wondering why he'd never told you he loved you.

"Really? What's his last name?"

"Good question. I'll ask him tonight." You rolled your eyes and whirled around, heading toward the basement steps.

If Steve wouldn't let you leave that way, you'd just go out the front.

"Hey—seriously, you're not going out in this."

"Oh yeah?" you huffed, stomping up the stairs. "Who's gonna stop me?"

A heavy arm hooked around your waist, knocking the air from your lungs with one quick pull. Steve hoisted you back down the steps, and it was only when he placed you back on your feet that you started kicking them. You got one good hit in the thigh before backing away to glare.

"What the hell is your issue?" you spat.

Steve threw his arms out—fucking Christ, his shoulders were broad. His hands were so big, and he had the prettiest pink flush to his face after all that play fighting and struggling.

"I'm not letting you go out in that."

It took everything in you to muster a squint and shoot it at him. You were sweating bullets in your buttoned-up coat.

"Well, I'm going."

Maybe you wanted him to grab you again. Maybe that's why you tried to push past him and dart up the stairs. Maybe you wanted to be chased, manhandled, held by those big, rough hands—Steve couldn't think of any other reason for your second attempt at escaping.

So, he snatched you up again. This time, you ended up dangling over his shoulder, and your feet were quicker to react this time. But your struggles were futile and adorable, and Steve chuckled when he brought you back to the cement floor and blocked off the stairs with a stiff body.

Once standing, you flicked your hair away again. Steve pushed his sweater sleeves up to his elbows. Cords of muscle flexed in his forearms—those strong, wide forearms. The scotch was starting to take effect. The room was getting smaller and hotter by the second, and you couldn't stop watching his lips grow pinker with heat.

"You have to stop touching me," you breathed out, so much softer than you wished it would sound. But you had no strength around Steve when he was at this proximity.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes, swallowing. He almost seemed in pain. "Then stop looking at me like that."

Your mouth ran dry. The room regained its frigidity in an instance. The sizzle of saliva down your throat passed between you.

"Like...like what?"

There was an ache growing in your chest that you were starting to resent. A hollow, weeping ache that squeezed with all its might when Steve looked down and shook his head.

"Nothing."

You watched him a moment. Scuff his shoes through the dirt on the floor. Wipe at his nose the way he does when he's nervous. Tuck his hands into his pockets and roll his shoulders. Meet your eyes only to duck away again.

"What if I...just go home?"

Steve scratched at the back of his neck, tousling his hair. "I'll-I'll walk you."

You nodded. "Okay."

Steve bundled in his coat and scarf, slipping on a pair of ratty old gloves before you pushed your way out the front door. Though you only lived a few houses down, it as a difficult trek. You had to hoist your legs with every step, kicking snow up the back of your jeans and under your coat. The wind whipped flurries at your face and numbed your mouth.

By the time you made it to your own front door, you were shivering and no less flustered than a few minutes ago. You turned around as you reached for the knob, finding Steve at the top step, waiting.

"Thanks for walking me."

Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. His smile was tight-lipped. "Sure."

You opened the door and slipped inside. Steve watched you kick the snow off your boots against the wall and shimmy your coat onto the hook. He watched you trudge to the steps and ascend them slowly, lost in the world of your own thoughts.

He stepped back and shuffled through the mound of white on your front lawn. He stopped in view of your bedroom window on the second floor, and watched the glass turn yellow in the lamplight. You passed in front of the window on your way to the bed.

Steve echoed a white breath into the air.

Maybe one day.

#rolly!#steve harrington #70s!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington au

406 notes · View notes

hey-august · 5 months

Text

Time to wake up | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)

GIF from goodsirs

Description: After a night of partying, Buggy seeks out your attention, only to discover that you're already asleep. Despite his "best" attempts at not waking you, something else is up and ready for some action.

Word count: ~1.9k

A/N: One shot smut with an established relationship. Based on OPLA buggy. Let me know if you see any errors or typos. ♡

Warnings: Not beta read. NC-17. → MDNI ← A moment of dry-humping. PIV, reader on top. Buggy is slightly inebriated but not deeply intoxicated. Buggy is also a whiney and apologetic mess. afab!reader, no use of Y/N. All parties are consenting adults.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

At the end of a long night of celebrations, filled to the brim with drinks, laughter, tall-tales, raunchy shanties, and - everyone’s favorite - arguments that could only be solved with fights, Buggy made his way to his captain’s quarters. He clumsily crawled into the bed where you have been sleeping after slipping out of the party a few hours ago. Although the sheets were full of your body heat, the pirate wanted to get closer the heat source.

Buggy snuggled against your sleeping form and pulled your back into his bare chest. He rested his head behind yours, enjoying how your hair caressed his face. He found your sweet scent tantalizing and overwhelming. Although he wasn’t drunk, he had enough alcohol coasting through his body to enhance his senses and fuel his imagination. The downside of those effects was the effort it took to process stimulation, and the numerous thoughts made it harder for him to keep his mind organized.

A subtle shift in your resting position nestled you into Buggy’s body, as if you were the first two pieces of a puzzle to fit together. Buggy took advantage of the movement, putting his face into the crook of your neck and pressing his hips against yours. His lips grazed your skin and his brain wrestled with the desire to kiss and nip your neck. Unfortunately for him, the thoughts fought back, bolstered by the swelling happening between his legs.

A few kisses couldn’t hurt, right? He started with pressing his lips against your neck, not really a kiss. When you didn’t stir, he gave in - little pecks, small licks, shaky breaths muffled against your skin. Buggy was so focused on trying to stay in control while tasting as much of you as possible, that he lost track of other sensations his body was seeking. His hips were moving on their own, pressing his hard length into your backside. Small movements, just enough to get pressure. A deep breath from your body, so light it sounded like a sigh, broke his concentration. The pirate clown stilled, afraid he woke you up.

“Bugs, do you want to have sex?” you asked in a voice still coated with sleep. Buggy shook his head against your neck.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, “I was gonna stop.” His voice was slow and heavy from partying and the lust he was trying to downplay.

“Babe, I woke up when you practically fell into the bed.”

“M’sorry, didn’t mean it.” He hugged you closer. It was intended to be a sweet gesture, but once again the sweet whisper of alcohol suggested he put extra pressure on his erection. You didn’t miss how his hard cock twitched against you, begging for more attention.

“I don’t mind, we can have sex,” you offered again, this time upping the ante by pressing against him.

Buggy’s breath hitched but he didn’t respond. He was stuck in a tornado of different responses, thoughts, and visions, unable to find the one he wanted. You grabbed the arm wrapped around your waist and guided his hand under your sleeping shirt and placed it on your breast. He squeezed. A sign of life. Buggy felt your body melt against his at the sensation and the storm in his mind faded away.

Buggy finally nodded and muttered another apology while kissing your neck, “M’sorry, wanna fuck you so bad…” This time the kisses were sloppy and heated, interspaced with small nips.

You broke free from his grasp and turned around to face the pirate captain. Under his clownish face paint, Buggy’s eyebrows carried a hint of a scowl, his eyes were dark and glazed with lust, and a blush spread across the unpainted sections of his face. While he didn’t have enough alcohol to get drunk, he was absolutely intoxicated by you. As bad as Buggy felt about waking you up, it was clear that he was so desperately horny that only you would do.

You captured his lips in an intense kiss and distracted him with your tongue so you could pull off your underwear without his roaming hands interfering. You broke the kiss to pull off your top and directed your captain to take off the only article of clothing he had on, thankful that he only ever slept in his boxers. Buggy obliged dutifully and looked at you with an expectant look, waiting for his next order.

“Let me take care of you,” you said, straddling him. His piercing green eyes watched as you got into position. You could see his feral hunger but there was also another more morose expression. Guilt.

“You sure you want this, Buggy?” The soft expression in your eyes was somehow still strong enough to sting his heart.

“I didn’t wanna wake you…didn’t mean it, m’so sorry.” His face crinkled into a scowl, frustrated with himself. You felt bad that he felt so conflicted, but seeing this man at odds with his love for you and his love for your body had your stomach in knots and your pussy dripping.

“It’s fine, sweetie. Do you want to-?” Despite avoiding your gaze, his strong grip on your hips and bashful nod were affirmation enough.

You took your cue to lower yourself onto the pirate clown, your heart pounding wildly as the tip made way for the rest of his thick cock. You moved slowly, relying on your slick juices to make the intrusion easier. Buggy’s thickness always stretched you to your limit, creating a delicious burn for you and a plush tight prison for him.

Through half-lidded eyes, you observed Buggy. His head was tilted back slightly as his body remained tense under your touch, eyes closed and lashes fluttering, all under knitted brows. Under the surface, he was fighting the impulse to slam you down onto his cock and fuck you into oblivion.

With his previous internal turmoils, the alcohol was his adversary. This time it was on his side. There was no way the pirate could ravage your body the way his unfettered thoughts cried out for. Honestly, Buggy was already closer to the edge than he normally was at this point. He had already been enroute to making a mess in his boxers while humping you from behind.

You began to rock your hips back and forth, feeling Buggy’s fingers dig deeper into your hips. He wasn’t guiding you, just holding on for dear life. You were a buoy and he was afraid of sinking into the murky depths of the ocean alone.

“Ahhh, fuuuuck, baby…” Buggy groaned in a low voice. “..f-feels s’good,” the words came out strung together with raw ecstasy. He felt your cunt squeeze at the comment, the additional tightness nearly painful. His hips jolted at the increase in pressure as his impatient cock seeked relief.

“Fuck, Buggy!” you gasped, unprepared for his contribution to what you expected to be a solo dance. His movement stuttered at your cry.

“M’sorry, baby, I-I’m so s-sorry,” he whined, “you f-feel so good.” His green eyes looked up at you apologetically while his large hands pawed at your hips, still fighting the battle of keeping his body under control. You held still for a moment, unable to do much but let your cunt squeeze fruitlessly against his throbbing cock. Each contraction caused every bit of his member to massage your sensitive walls, sending tickles of sensation through your body and bringing you closer to climax.

A quiet whimper pulled you back to the bed, a heavy anchor tethering your mind and attention.

“P-please, m’so close,” Buggy pleaded, shifting his body under yours. Needy hands ran up and down your thighs, having given up on gripping your hips. “W-want you so bad…please wanna come…”

You nodded wordlessly and bounced up and down, wanting nothing more than to give your captain what he wanted. Buggy watched your beautiful form ride his cock, his normally talkative mouth quiet and agape. No matter how many times he’s had this experience, he was always in awe watching your lewd expressions, how your tantalizing cunt accepted his large cock, and the way your hedonistic body moved above him.

Desperate hands returned to their rightful place on your hips. His fingertips dug in deeply, bracing you against the new pace and intensity his hips were going to deliver. Buggy was about to drown in the impending wave building in his body and he couldn’t let you go. As the wave began to crest, slurred words began to pour from Buggy’s cunt-drunk mouth.

“S-so close, please, gonna come…m’sorry b-baby, gonna come. Your cu- unnngh, you f-feel so good. P-please, please, please…”

Each thrust rubbed his cock against that sweet spot inside you, building pressure through your body until all you could see were the stars flashing in your eyes. Buggy’s movements grew more erratic as his orgasm coursed through his body, from the continued whining flowing from his mouth to the hot streams of cum that began to flood your insides. The throbbing that accompanied each spurt was nearly enough to send you to the stars you were seeing, however, you could feel his eager movements start to ebb away. You rolled your hips, chasing the climax that was only breaths away.

“Oh, f-fuck!” Buggy cried out as the tide in his body retreated and the stimulation from your continued movements increased. His body wiggled helplessly, not in an attempt to get away, but to ease the feeling of overstimulation. The sight of your captain, the fearsome clown pirate, writhing underneath you, muttering and whining words you could no longer pull apart, while still creating bruises on your hips from his man-handling, because he wanted you to finish, was more than enough for you. Buggy feebly attempted to keep your hips moving as you rode through your climax.

You collapsed onto Buggy’s chest as your orgasm teetered out, fighting the twitches that were still lighting up in your body with each beat of your heart. Buggy’s chest heaved under your body, a deep hollow wind accompanied by his own heavy heartbeat. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace and he rubbed his chin on the top of your head.

“You’re sooo good, y’feel so good, baby. M’so sorry, had to cum so b-bad. M’sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, just w-wanted you so bad...”

At this point, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you anymore, or if the clown was broken and saying whatever words were left in his empty head. While you wanted to lay on him longer, you made the great effort in rolling off of his body, wincing as his softening member slipped out alongside some of the extra fluid inside you. Laying next to the incoherent clown - whose body was going through a merry-go-round of tension and relaxation as it attempted to come down from all the stimulation you delivered - you tilted his face towards yours.

“Bugs, it’s fine. I’m glad you woke me up for this, okay?” you affirmed in a gentle but straightforward voice. You nodded as you spoke, prompting him to nod back. It was hard to say if he really heard what you were saying, but the calmness that crossed his face was enough for this moment.

Buggy gave another small nod before closing his eyes and allowing his body to fully relax. You kissed his shoulder and basked in the afterglow with him. There was a mess to clean up and you would both need to actually prepare for bed, but you weren’t ready to leave this moment behind yet.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: there's probably a joke here about a clown shaped alarm cock clock 🤡

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #one piece smut #buggy smut #buggy the clown smut #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #x reader

564 notes · View notes

hemmingshouse · 19 days

Text

truth, drink or dare / colby brock

summary: colby and sam convinced you and tara to join them in a new version of their usual truth or drink videos and it takes a turn when you confess the truth and get dared.

warnings: 18+, alcohol, getting drunk, mentions of sex, kissing, cursing, sexy thingssss (not proof read x)

(let me know if you want a part two or send in a request! x)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“what’s up guys, it’s sam and colby!” sam exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together before rubbing them and sending the camera a small grin. “we’re doing the dreaded video once again,” he groaned, thinking of how the previous times were so bad the hangover lasted for a week.

colby hissed playfully, shaking his head in disbelief as to why they were still agreeing on doing this. he raised a finger, “i don’t know why we said yes, but!” he spoke up, “today we have two lovely ladies joining us today to make it a bit more bearable!”

“oh really! who’s that?” you asked them playfully as you sat up straight on the couch, smushed in between colby and tara. “i can’t fucking believe we’re doing this.”

tara shook her head, “i feel sick already, this is such a bad idea.”

sam reached over to gently pat both of you and tara on the head, “we took you out for lunch! it’s the least you can do for your best friends after that.”

colby laughed, leaning back onto the couch as he stretched an arm across the head rest. he gently scratched your head to get your attention, sending you a reassuring smile. you weren’t sure what it meant, but the gesture was sweet and it made you smile back at him either way.

“since we’ve done truth or drink quite a few times,” colby explained, “sam and i decided it would be fun to switch things up and add another option to it; dare. this means that you can choose between truth or dare, and if you don’t wanna do either of ‘em, you take a shot.”

“of water,” you added quickly, pointing towards the camera, “we’re not daydrinking and you shouldn’t either!”

your three friends laughed and colby leaned backwards to reach for the bottle of tequila he hid behind the couch, as well as four shot glasses. “i got you girls your own new heart shaped shot glasses to make things a bit more.. cute.”

your mouth fell agape as well as tara’s as colby handed you both a shot glass, “oh this is adorable,” you chuckled, “i hope it fits less than your normal ones.”

sam snorted as he let out a laugh, “we tried them out before, fits the same amount. sorry sweetcheeks, but you’re fucked.”

sam had pulled up their shared instagram, quickly scrolling through the multiple questions and dares before closing his eyes and letting his thumb stop on one of them. “alright so the plan is, we’re gonna roll a dice. if the dice lands on an uneven number, everyone answers the truth. if it lands on an even one we all agree on one person to do the dare - just a quick heads up!”

you let out a small sigh, brushing a lock of your bangs out of your face before tapping your nails against the empty shot glass - waiting for sam to stop giggling at the first question. you knew these type of videos were the rowdiest ones and loved to watch them be honest or get shitfaced - but that was until now, when you were actually a part of the video and had to spill your guts as well.

colby noticed how you shifted in your spot right next to him, your bare knee brushing his jeans covered one.

you had been in a few of their investigation videos and challenges so the fans were fully aware of the way the boys had you in their lives as a real good friend. since colby had always been good with girls and flirted with nearly every single of them it wasn’t new to the viewers when he sometimes placed a hand on your thigh or wrapped an arm around your shoulders - hell he even made sexual and dirty minded jokes with you involved.

that became normal for the two of you way too quickly but you weren’t sure if he was just jokingly flirting with you sometimes or if there was a hint of truth behind his words and actions.

“okay!” sam yelled loudly, shaking you out of your trance from where you were fiddling with the thin silver ring on your middle finger, “let’s just take a shot to start off the game,” he said as he poured all of your glasses, joining them together in a toast before all of you slammed the tequila backwards. “ugh,” you exclaimed with a face, “okay, t, you start since you’re the youngest.”

your best friend leaned forward slightly to roll the dice onto the table, “lord have mercy on me,” the short dark haired girl joked, letting go of the small dice. “it landed on 5! wait, that means everyone tells the truth, right?”

colby nodded as he rubbed his chin, letting his ankle rest on his knee as he crossed them. because you were so cramped up on the small couch, you took advantage of the fact that you now had a bit more space to rest your arms elsewhere instead of having them cramped in between colby and tara, and folded your hands together to rest onto colby’s knee.

“picture your crush or someone you’d like to hook up with,” sam started after he cleared his throat, “what’s your favourite body part of theirs?”

“i actually don’t have anyone i’m crushing on,” sam spoke up, “buuut, i’ve always been a sucker for when a girl has like a nice body shape and isn’t afraid to show it off.”

“shit bro,” colby nodded, “that’s a good one, i’m gonna have to agree with you on that one.”

you knitted your eyebrows together and shot a look at tara, immediately sitting up. “no fucking way!” you exclaimed whilst turning your body slightly to look at him, “you’re not getting away with agreeing with sam! choose your own answer or take a shot.”

“you wouldn’t have agreed with it if y/n or me were going for the same answer either,” tara backed you up, wrapping her arms around your shoulders to pull you in for a side hug. “shot or answer, colbs.”

colby groaned, hating how you two were far too sober because he knew that with a few shots in, neither of you would’ve been onto any rules anymore. “alright! okay,” he shot his hands up in defeat. “i’ll answer then. uhm- i think.. imma have to say neck. and collarbones.”

“really?” sam asked him, his eyes quickly darting to you without you noticing as you were looking at colby. sam noticed how you were wearing a black strapless top after you took off your hoodie before you started the game. he grinned at colby, catching onto what his best friend meant but leaving the two girls in the dark for that matter. “good choice.”

tara nodded her head, “that is a really good choice actually,” she agreed, “god, i’m gonna have to say arms. i’m a sucker for men that have nice arms.”

“every man in the us is now running towards the gym for you, t,” colby joked, flicking her cheek from where his arm was still spread across the head rest of the couch.

“what can i say,” tara shrugged her shoulders playfully, “guess i have that effect.”

all of you laughed at her joke, a sudden flash of anxiety smacking you in the face when you realised you hadn’t answered just yet. you weren’t scared to answer, but knowing that millions of people were gonna know about some of your deepest secrets made you feel a bit uneasy.

“i’m gonna have to say hands,” you spoke up before anyone was able to ask you what your answer to sam’s question was. “i just- i don’t know,” you chuckled, “it’s specifically when they know they have nice hands and wear rings-”

you mentally silenced yourself because you felt like you already overshared for the first question. thankfully tara was quick to agree with you, and you got a small laugh from sam and a huge smirk from colby. oh you definitely overshared.

“okay y/n, your turn,” colby handed you the dice, patiently waiting for you to roll it. it was a 3, which meant all of you had to speak your truths once again. “aye!”

all of your eyes went to sam, since all of you were waiting for him to pick out another question. “i have one,” he announced, “how many shots would it take for you to hook up with the person on your right?”

“sam! did you pick this one because you have a thing for me and finally feel confident enough to let me know?” tara joked, making a kissy face at him.

“absolutely,” he joked back, “in all seriousness though, i think four? you’re fucking terrifying sometimes.”

it caused you to let out a loud laugh, “sam, sweetie, she’s a leprechaun- there’s nothing to be afraid of besides her sarcastic ass remarks and her uppercuts.”

tara sent you a smile before patting sam on the back, “i love you sammy boy, but you’re like my brother anyways so let’s not even think about that,” tara chuckled, swinging her head around to meet your humoured face, “i’d do y/n in a heartbeat, no shots needed.”

the boys hollered loudly as you girls chuckled at their reactions, why was girls loving their friends such a big thing for guys? “oh i love you,” you exclaimed, quickly pecking tara’s puckered lips before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in a hug. “that is likewise! there ain’t no man that’ll ever be enough for us.”

“got humbled real quick,” colby joked as he shook his head, “so zero shots for you to hook up with tara, how many more do you have to take so i stand a chance?”

you tapped your finger against your chin as you pretended to think, “hm,” you hummed, “gosh, maybe- i don’t know? one, maybe two? just for like- liquid courage. colby’s way too experienced.”

“so you’d make out with him now if that was a dare?” sam asked you, eyebrows raised and an amused look spread across his lips. you obviously had the shot at the start of the game and completely forgot about it. looking at sam’s face said enough. he knew exactly what he was doing.

you slightly narrowed your eyes at your blond friend, “are you turning a truth into a dare now?”

“do you want me to?” he fired back, sitting up straight while he waited for you to answer.

you thought about turning it down, but that would mean you had to take a shot. and even if you did that, the answer to what you wanted was already out the roof when you said it would only take a single shot for you to hook up with colby. or well, in this case it was just a silly little kiss.

not answering sam, you turned your gaze towards colby. he had been waiting for you to answer sam with a knot in his stomach and a slight blush covering his cheeks. when you answered sam’s question he was curious to see what you had to say and he was pleasantly surprised.

“oh fuck it,” you mumbled before you grasped colby’s chin in one hand and leaned more towards him to gently place your lips on his. colby was quick to respond by placing his hand on the back of your head to get you even closer as you two deepened the kiss.

it obviously didn’t last long because you were fully aware of the camera’s rolling and two of your best friends being in the same room hollering at you, but when you pulled back colby was quick to pull you in for another peck.

“i was actually just tryna see how far i could go with teasing you,” sam told you with wide eyes, although very amused, “i did not expect that.”

colby hadn’t expected it either. he was looking at you debating it and thought you’d turn it down and take a shot instead, knowing that you didn’t want to stir any drama - but he was glad you did. at this right exactly moment he couldn’t give a shit about anyone apart from you anyways.

after a while, you figured that the viewers went mental. they had literally asked and dared you everything they wanted to, no holding back on their part. some questions weren’t even finished reading before sam grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured all four of you a shot - knowing that neither of you were going to answer.

you must’ve been five shots deep when you sat further back into the couch because tara went to sit om the floor instead, giving you more space to sit onto the couch, so you naturally leaned back and wasn’t surprised to feel the side of colby’s chest against your back.

“so that’s why the couch was so cramped,” you playfully narrowed your eyes at him, “your ego is taking up all the space.”

he let out a loud laugh as you got comfy against his chest, leaning your head against his shoulder while you closed your eyes. “how many more are we doing?” you asked sam, who was now trying to pick a few dares and questions you could at least complete or answer.

colby’s knuckles softly brushed against your shoulder as he felt you calm down, knowing that alcohol made you a bit sleepy. “hey pretty girl,” he mumbled, causing you to look up at him with a sheepish smile. “don’t fall asleep, hm?”

you shook your head slowly, “i’m trying but you’re just so comfy and soft. you smell so nice as well.”

colby found himself smiling at you oversharing your thoughts once again, “hey,” he took your chin in one hand, “thank you for that,” he chuckled softly, “but sam’s got a few more dares for us now. that okay with you, darling?”

you felt how colby’s tumb traced your bottom lip and how his stare was focused on you. this moment was much more intimate than the moment you shared before you quickly kissed him earlier that night, and you weren’t sure why.

maybe it was because the pressure of having a first kiss was off, or because you just felt extremely attracted to your best friend and wanted to kiss the shit out of him once again.

sam had an amused grin on his facs as he looked around the room, noticing you and colby all mushed up together. “okay love birds,” he announced, “and leprechaun,” he patted tara on the head with a chuckle, “i have a dare for y’all. one person has to lick whipped cream off someone elses body, body part of their choice.”

“do we have any volunteers?” tara spoke up, sending sam a glare and look to let him keep his mouth shut. “i mean, i’d do it to you y/n, but i don’t really like whipped cream.”

“neither do i!” sam chirped up, hands shooting up in defeat, nearly causing him to drop his phone. “you make your choice while i grab the goods.”

your friends were so see through when it came to trying to couple you up with colby. backing out of dares so you two had to do them, refusing to answer questions by taking a shot after you and colby did speak up about the truth. it was entertaining to say the least, and neither you or colby actually minded.

“alright pretty boy,” you patted his thigh before sitting up straight, “i kissed you, so it’s only fair you treat me back.”

a grin spread across colby’s face as he nodded his head, “alright, if that’s how you wanna play it.”

he took the can of whipped cream from sam’s grasp as he got up from the couch, motioning you to stand up with him. you weren’t sure why, but you obliged either way.

colby brushed your hair behind your shoulders with one hand as the other shook the can of sticky sweetness. you let out a chuckle as he flipped the cap off, “alright,” he mumbled, starting his line of whipped cream on your left collarbone before dragging the can towards your right one. “that’s a lot actually.”

“can’t put it back in the can anymore,” you laughed softly, noticing how colby’s eyes were trained on your neck. and collarbones.. holy shit.

your eyes widened slightly when you finally put two and two together, understanding that when you all were telling each other about favourite body parts, colby was not talking about collarbones and necks in general - he was talking about yours.

funnily enough, you had been talking about hands with him in the back of your mind.

his hands were steady on your waist, slightly pulling you forward to get easier access to your collarbones. he started off on the left, his tongue slowly dragging across your upper chest. you found it so hard to not let your head fall back and let a moan slip from your lips as you felt his tongue glide against your soft skin.

“oh this is hot,�� tara exclaimed, clapping her hands together while watching colby trace down the whipped cream.

his thumbs softly pressed into your waist when he looked back up to meet your gaze. you chuckled, reaching up to get some of the stickiness off his chin. “you didn’t catch it all.”

he shrugged nonchalantly, “we have an entire can left pretty girl,” he teased, “who said i was done already?”

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock oneshot #colby brock smut #colby x reader #sam and colby #xplr club #xplr #sam and colby smut

339 notes · View notes

evera-era · 6 months

Text

heal me. (pt 3)

ellie williams x f!reader pt 1, pt 2

warnings: nervous/cutesy ellie, fluff, yearning, eventual kissing !!

a/n: no mentions of medic stuff this time bc i wanted reader to enjoy life outside of that. also i’m sorry for putting this off, i just wasn’t sure how i felt ab it </3 but here’s the final part !!

“Wow… you really do have the whole collection.” You murmur, lightly grazing your fingertips over the spines of Ellie’s comics.

It was the first time you had been to her house. Well… garage. She wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it was homely.

“Pretty cool, huh?” She says, watching you. “I’ve probably read it about a dozen times already.”

You smiled, turning and looking at her over your shoulder. She shifts on her bed.

“Didn’t know you were a geek.”

“A- A geek?” She stutters, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, okay. Ouch.”

You both laughed, and you bit down on your lip. “It’s not a bad thing. Geeks are cute.”

You turned to look back at her bookshelf as Ellie’s face flushes. She knew you were flirting with her — it was obvious you were flirting with her — but she didn’t know what to do next.

“Mind if I read the second one while I’m here?” You ask, pulling the sandwiched comic out of its spot.

“Go for it,” She says, pulling her converse off her feet. “You can come sit over here. I mean — if, if you want.”

You grinned, spinning on your heel before plopping yourself on her bed. It was soft, and surprisingly comfy.

“Hey, this isn’t fair.”

“What?” She says, eyes widening.

“Your bed. It’s so nice,” You comment, looking up at her. “How do you just casually have the best bed, like, ever?”

The redhead laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I’m not even kidding,” You sigh. “God. I could sleep here forever.”

As you turn the page and begin reading, Ellie can’t help but look over at you. You were inches away from her, on her bed, in her bedroom. And you said you wanted to sleep next to her. It felt surreal.

She swears she could probably die happy right about now.

About ten minutes pass, and Ellie clears her throat. “So, uh, how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s really good,” You say, still holding the book up. “I think I could get into this series… if you’ll let me, of course.”

“Y-Yeah,” She says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Uh, whenever you want.”

You smiled gently before looking over at her.

“Hey, Ellie?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “Or… boyfriend? Sorry. Should’ve asked.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “G-Girlfriend. And uh, no, not currently.”

“So you’re seeing someone?” You question.

“No— No, sorry. I meant… that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” You say simply, before returning to the comic. Her head swarms as she tries to figure out your intentions.

Was that was your way of telling her you liked her? Shit, or were you just being friendly? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t wanna read into it wrong.

A few more minutes pass as she looks down at you. “Um… and you?”

“Huh?” You say, looking up from the book. “Me?”

“Y-Yeah. Do… you have someone?”

“No,” You say. “I’d be surprised if anyone even liked me. I mean… I’m not all that. But you? You get to go on patrol and look all badass and stuff.”

Ellie blushes, looking down at the ground. “You— you look good, too. Better. I meant… better.”

She wants to kick herself. Why does she sound so stupid when she wants to flirt back?

Nonetheless, you took the compliment with a smile. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Ellie gives a thin-lipped smile, desperately hoping she was better at putting her thoughts into words. And that she wasn’t a total dork.

The two of you had spent the next few hours in her room. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, painting her window blinds a pale shade of gray. You had gone through two comics at most, as you had spent half of your time speaking to her instead of actually reading.

“Alright,” You nudged her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me a story.”

“Alright, alright.” She pauses. “I have a good one. It’s about my friend Jesse.”

“Okay. Shoot,” You reply, looking up at her.

You realized that you enjoyed watching her. More than anyone you had ever met.

There was a sparkle she got in her eyes when she was excited about something, and her nose would scrunch whenever she described something she didn’t like. It was cute and adorable and god, you wanted more of her.

“…And so while me and Dina were sledding, he slips and absolutely busts his ass.” At this point, Ellie’s smiling, making grand hand gestures as she explains.

“I’m talkin’ full on, face first into the fucking snow! It was hilarious, and—“

She notices your staring, and immediately clears her throat. “Uh... are— are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say, pushing yourself up from the position you were laying in. You scoot closer, so you’re hovering over her face.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, looking into her eyes. When you’re met with silence, you close your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.

“Sorry… was that awkward?” You cover your face with your hands. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? N-Nevermind. I swear I was listening—“

For a moment, you were worried that maybe you had come on too strong. That just as you began to make a new friend, you had pushed her away, in a rather embarrassing manner. But your fears dissipate when you feel the warmth of her hands on yours.

She peels your hands away from your face, holding them gently. Her fingers were nimble, and rather coarse, but her touch is near electrifying.

“Please,” She whispers, barely audible. And before you have the chance to lean in, her lips have already hit yours.

Ellie’s kiss is desperate; it was something she had been wanting to do since she had first met you. And inside, she’s ecstatic, because she never thought you’d ask her to.

Her lips are warm, and encompassing, and her breath is shallow against your face. She goes slowly as to burn this memory into her brain.

When the two of you pull away, it’s quiet. You were worried if maybe you had changed the dynamic too quickly, but then she speaks.

“I… I really wanted that.” She says softly. You smile, nodding.

“Yeah. Me too.”

You turn your head away in an attempt to ease the fluttering in your chest. Ellie’s eyes are still on you, and she reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair away from your neck.

Your eyes land on the comic cover, and you laugh halfheartedly.

“I, um, barely finished it.” You utter. “The book.”

“Oh,” She says, raising her brows. “You… you can take some more with you, if you want. So you can read them.”

You shrug, looking back over at her.

“Or maybe I can just come back over here.” You add. “So I can read them with you?”

Ellie’s heart skips a beat, and she quickly nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— great.”

You got up from her bed, putting the comics back. When you turn around, you press your lips together, looking off to the side.

“One condition, though.”

“Hm?” She says, looking back over at you.

“I come over as your girlfriend… not your friend.” You say shyly. “It’s my only rule.”

Ellie grins, standing up from the bed as well. She approaches you slowly.

“Well… you’re leaving as my girlfriend… aren’t you?”

“Am I?” You smile coyly, putting your arms around her neck. “This your way of asking me out?”

Ellie nods, face flushed. She thought it was cute, and a little funny, that you had casually assumed she went around kissing people she wasn’t into. She considered herself way too much of a loser to accomplish something like that.

You giggle a bit.

“Okay, then. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Her girlfriend. Her girl. Ellie can’t help but feel fuzzy at the thought of it.

It sounded good — it sounded right, rolling off of your tongue. She truly couldn’t wait to have you around her arm, walking with you around town.

Ellie doesn’t say anything else, merely smiles bashfully as you lean in to kiss her again.

And even though she couldn’t be sure of the future, she’s sure that in this moment, she wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else besides you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fluff

463 notes · View notes

ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month

Text

is it casual now?

prompt: the mission is only in a few weeks now, and you and bradley have only gotten closer. however, a heated argument erupts between the two of you. what is bradley masking, and what does it reveal?

warnings: lots of angst, mention of age gap, emotional roller coaster really

a/n: it’s a long one. again i love feedback. this is a sequel to night shift, which can be read as a stand alone or a two part series

“I just don’t want you going.” He raised his voice as he refused to look you in the eye.

“How could you say that? After all the work I put in? that we’ve both put in?” Your voice wavered with the raising of his voice. Where could this be coming from?

- - -

He had gotten cold all of a sudden, one night laying in his bed together. You had been talking about nothing in particular, and the subject of the upcoming mission had been brought up. Laying on his chest, you felt him tense, as if he was made of stone. You had picked your head up, feeling this change, and furrowed your eyebrows. He was no longer looking at you like he usually did, but looked sort of through you.

“I need to shower,” he had said. As of a few weeks ago, he always brought you along with him. Tonight, he brushed past you, sort of gently shoving you away from him, hinting that this time, you genuinely weren’t invited. So you sat, alone, staring at the ceiling thinking. What did you do wrong? Was he just tired? Uncomfortable? Your heart quickened in pace and your nerves heightened.

He came back out, later than normal, and you were still awake. You sat up,

looking at him, studying him, trying to read him.

“You need to sleep.” He rifled around in his drawer for pajama bottoms. Still, no eye contact was made. He found them, and pulled them up over his boxers, wearing no shirt. What was his problem?

“Did I do something?” You said it so quietly and unsure that it was almost a whisper.

“…No, what do you mean?” He asked it less as a question and more as a statement, robotic. As if it was a prerecorded response. He began to walk out of the room, you assumed towards the kitchen.

You stood, unable to even fathom what was happening. This didn’t help your stress whatsoever.

“Bradley.” It sounded so pathetic, needy and confused. You followed him down the hallway, eventually getting in front of him. He was forced to stop.

“Hm?” Eyes on the ground.

“You won’t even… look at me.” Your brows were furrowed in confusion. What did you do? He sighed.

“Do you want me to fucking look at you?” His voice was so cold it sounded unfamiliar. So much so that your breath hitched. He finally did look at you, but there was nothing affectionate in his eyes. If anything it was exasperated.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, a tug in your chest.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you whispered, since you were so close to him.

He didn’t answer. He just threw his arms up and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

You masked your pain and confusion with anger. “You were fine the whole night and all of a sudden you’re being a dick? We started talking about the mission and now you wanna go mute again-”

“You shouldn’t even be going on that fucking mission.”

Silence.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You sort of squeaked it out in the silence. Your voice was soft, calmer than you felt. Why would he say that?

“I just don’t want you going.” He raised his voice as he refused to look you in the eye.

“How could you say that? After all the work I put in? that we’ve both put in?” Your voice wavered with the raising of his voice. Where could this be coming from? “What, you think I’m not good enough?”

“You’re too young for this shit. I should’ve known...” He looks like he wants to say more, but he just scoffs and looks away.

“Should’ve known?” You were so taken aback by his words. Should’ve known what? About you?

“Yeah I should’ve.” He spoke so sharply. He looked at you through his brows. You tried to look strong, but he was so much taller than you, and you were sure you felt your lip quiver. He licked his lips and his eyes flicked away. They would almost look regretful if he didn’t look back at you with the same guarded expression.

“So you regret this? This was all just casual to you?”

He didn’t answer. He just looked on.

You scoffed, and brushed past him. You grabbed what clothes you could, and tried to breathe to keep from crying in front of him. He followed you into the room.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?” he asked, his voice tugged at strings in your chest.

“Going home.” Your voice cracked. You took off his sweatshirt that you wore and threw it at him. He caught it against his chest. You grabbed your purse, made sure you had your keys, wallet, and phone.

“Y/n.”

You pushed past him, making your way down the hall to his door.

“Y/n, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Trust me, I know. It’s usually the only time you acknowledge me for something.”

You don’t know if he had any expression on his face. You just opened the door and closed it behind you. You walked to your car, and felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The drive home was a silent one, with quiet sobs, and small, quiet breaths. When you got home, your own house looked bland. You were so stupid, you knew this wouldn’t end well. You were so young and naive, and look what happened.

You fell asleep sometime around two.

- - -

Training next morning was miserable. You were too fast on the course, fucking it up for everyone else on the team. Bradley said nothing to you except for a stiff, “Morning,” since everyone was watching you two. Phoenix tried to ask you what was wrong; you were usually the most precise one on the course, and the only one that had made it to the target on time. You just told her you didn’t get much sleep.

After work, you got home and melted into the couch. You had turned on some random show, and you stared blankly at it for hours. A ring of your phone snapped you out of your dazed state. You almost hoped it was a certain someone, even after everything. It wasn’t.

“Hey, Phoenix.”

“We’re going out tonight, and I’m gonna get you laid!” her voice was so cheerful on the other line.

“I’m not-“

“I will not take no as an answer. Dress in as little as possible! We’ll pick you up.”

She hung up, and you forgot about her words too quick to wonder who “we” was, and if it was the exact person you hoped to avoid.

So you would go. You would put powder over your baggy eyes and mascara over damp lashes, because you had to be okay.

- - -

Rooster POV

Fuck. I’m so fucking stupid. I let myself act like that to her because I think everyone in the navy is gonna turn up like my dad. Now I lost her because I’m a dick who doesn’t know how to say his fucking feelings. The only person around I actually care for I fucked over.

I just don’t want her going on the mission. I’d rather her hate me forever and not go on it than to really lose her. And she does hate me. I know now. I saw it in her anger, heard it in her words. But of course I didn’t accomplish anything. I just hurt her.

Phoenix wants me to drive herself, Hangman, and Bob to the Hard Deck. I don’t feel like it, but fuck it. I need a drink.

- - -

A text dinged on your phone from Phoenix. “We’re here.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look how you felt. You would let Phoenix believe she was helping. She’d introduce you to some shitty guy who’d mansplain the navy to you, and you wouldn’t end up going home with him and make up some excuse. God, you needed a drink.

You touched up your appearance in the mirror. Your makeup was flawless, and your hair was straightened out long. You donned a tight black dress, with long sleeves, and it was a little short for your liking. You grabbed your purse and sighed. Here goes nothing.

It was when you stepped outside that you realized who the “we” was in the text. Outside your light blue house sat a shiny Ford Bronco. You almost tripped over your feet. You had to pretend like everything was fine.

Phoenix catcalled you out the window. You reached the car and opened the door. It was crammed. You ended up sitting four people in a three person row. As you started driving, you looked up at the rear view mirror, seeing Bradley, driving with his eyes forward. His face was freshly shaved, except for the mustache. Of course he looked good. Of course he felt fine. Of course you were already miserable.

The drive to the Hard Deck felt like the longest drive in the world. After you parked, everyone was giddy, and whooping and cheering. You were left behind them, walking slowly. You had a buddy, though. Just the man you didn’t want to see.

He twirled his keys on his finger, the jingle of them the only sound between you two. You glanced sideways too look at him. His eyes looked forward, a solemn expression. Thank god you were almost to the door. Coyote met you there.

“Woooooo you guys are here, finally!” Coyote has obviously already had something to drink as he was waiting for your car to arrive. He threw his arm around Rooster and disappeared into the busy evelin crowd with him. You pushed through the crowd alone to the bar, where Phoenix already had a shot waiting for you. Based on your misery, it would be the first of many. You felt a tap on your shoulder next to you, and turned around, thinking it was someone from the team.

“I hope a guy didn’t buy that for you,” a guy said. He had jet black hair and blue eyes, and by the looks of him was obviously in the Navy. You rolled your eyes.

“What if one did?”

“Then I have some bad news for him.” He introduced himself after that, some name you wouldn’t remember. He talked your ear off about nothing in particular, how great he was, how tough he was, the works. You tuned him out and traced your finger absentmindedly on the varnished wood bar. If you were going to put up with this, you were gonna need another drink. You glanced around the room, looking for anyone, preferably Phoenix, to save you from this situation. Then you saw it.

There he was, against the wall next to the music box, and he wasn’t alone. Next to him stood one of the prettiest girls you had probably ever seen. She was blonde, and shorter than you. She had a perfect body, and perfect makeup. She looked nothing like you. They spoke and laughed. She touched his arm and whispered something to him. He smirked at whatever she said and whispered something back. Suddenly you felt like throwing up. Your dress felt wrong on your body, your makeup felt like too much, your hair felt frizzy. Your face went stark white, you were sure.

You were so frozen by the sight that whatever man was standing next to you actually paused his talking. You had to get out of here. You needed air or you would hyperventilate.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked. You felt dizzy. You pushed your way to the door to the back deck. It was so crowded and you wished you could go home. You passed Phoenix on your way out.

“Hey!…Are you okay? You look so pale.” She furrowed her brows at the sight of you. She put her hand on your arm.

“I- I need air. I’m going outside.”

“Oh…okay.”

Finally, you reached the doors. You walked out onto the back deck to watch the waves. You just wanted to go home, but you had no ride, and nobody to tell what was really going on. Did he really move on that fast? Did he even have to move on at all? Maybe he didn’t even see you as that much. She was so pretty it hurt. You found yourself tearing up again. You titled your head upward and tried to think about something else. You couldn’t act upset. The doors opened behind you, and the sound of the crowd spilled out. You heard a giggle behind you. You turned. You really couldn’t catch a break. You and Rooster locked eyes, and surprise show in them.

“Oh, sorry,” the blonde giggled. “We didn’t think anyone was out here.”

You said nothing, just stared at them blankly. Rooster dragged her back inside, his smiley mood that he had with her earlier gone. He didn’t break eye contact before he turned around. You couldn’t read his expression. Smugness? Apologetic? Bored?

It didn’t matter. He found himself something new to keep in his sheets like he did you. What an idiot you were for thinking you were more. You sat blankly staring at the shoreline. That was your last straw. You were leaving, and you didn’t care how much an Uber would cost to get you out of here.

You went inside to go tell Phoenix you were going home.

- - -

Rooster POV

I had to get my mind off her. She looked so good in that dress, but her eyes were so blank and miserable. I caused it, and I don’t know what to do. I walked into the bar and met some girl. I needed a distraction. She was some ditsy girl from up the coast, but she’d do. Her freckles, in the light of the bar, almost looked like the one’s Y/n had. Almost. It was a mistake. I tried to take her outside, but there she was. I’m such a dick. Y/n didn’t look well. She was pale and exhausted. The blonde dragged me back inside somewhere, but I couldn’t stop thinking of her.

I was dragged into one of the hallways of the bar, and whatever girl I was with pulled me into the shadows. She kissed me, and I hate to say I kissed her back. I wanted to pretend.

“Y/n,” I whispered in between kisses.

It abruptly stopped as I realized what I’d said.

“…who is Y/n?” The girl backed up.

“Shit.”

I think she got the idea, because she was gone pretty soon after that. I was alone again now. I didn’t feel like doing anything except running to her, to Y/n. I couldn’t, though, all because of me. Now she thinks I don’t care, that I don’t respect her. I’m not used to sleeping alone. The dreams were bad last night, and I woke up alone. I fucked up, bad.

- - -

You didn’t even make it inside before someone grabbed your arm. You turned and it was the guy from earlier. You were the only people on the deck outside. It was dark, with lighting steaming onto it from the glass doors of the bar. Other than that, though, it was a dark patio of wood floors and picnic tables.

“We didn’t finish our conversation from earlier.” He said. His face was hard to make out in the darkness. The sentence sounded less like a request to keep talking and more of a demand.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I, uh, was just about to leave.” You really just wanted to call your Uber and go home. You had been on the verge of tears all day, now more than ever.

“Oh come on, stay a while.” His grip hadn’t left your arm. If anything, it tightened. You tried to step back, but you hit the rail of the deck. He was drunk. You could smell it on his breath. Your heart rate picked up slightly. No one was out here, and he wouldn’t let you go.

“No, I think I should really get going. Please, just- I need to go home.” The last part sounded like you were begging, but you were scared.

He chuckled, and stepped closer. You were leaned back as far over the rail as possible. “We haven’t even had any fun yet-“

“I think she fucking asked you to leave her alone.” You had no idea where he came from, but Rooster basically appeared behind him.

The guy hardly gave him a glance. “I don’t think this concerns you,” he said. “Does it baby?” The question made your stomach flip.

In a split second, the man was pulled off of you, and snatched by Bradley face to face. “Did I fucking stutter? I swear to God if I ever see you here again-“ He looked stern, and so much bigger compared to the guy in front of him. His jaw is clenched, all his muscles taut, seen through his white t-shirt. He looked like he could lose control in a split second, just waiting for this guy to make the wrong move.

“Okay man, fine I’m sorry!” And just like that, the guy was gone.

You didn’t really know how to feel. You just sat there and stared at Bradley in front of you. He was actually looking at you this time. Your arm tingled where the guy held you so tight.

You wanted him, but you hated him. You hated him for making you feel so bad about yourself. You hated him for everything, but the only person you want to run to is him.

“Are you uh-“ He was probably about to ask if you were alright. You couldn’t speak to him. He did so much to you but you didn’t trust yourself. You could just fall back in. All the emotion from the past few days welled up in your head.

“It’s fine. I’m going home.” You were short with him, looking down at the ground to keep from making eye contact. It hurt so bad to look at him, knowing he’s not really yours, no matter how bad you want him.

“How are you getting home?”

“Uber.”

“That’s not safe during this time of night. Please just let me take you home.”

“Please don’t do this to me Bradley,”Your voice was so cold, but it still sounded like you were begging him for something. It had to be, because if not, you’d just break down into tears.

“Do what?” He just looked at you.

“Act like you care. You didn’t last night. Just let me go home. Please.” On the last word, your voice cracked. Shit.

“Do you think I don’t care?” He mumbled, and took a step closer to you.

“I know you don’t, Bradley! You don’t take someone you care about home night after night to sleep with them and then ignore them all of a sudden. Then you blow up on me for no reason at all, and the day after you do start hanging out with some random bitch at the bar? You were probably planning to do with her exactly what you did with me, because you think I’m disposable. You think that after everything, you can just throw me out when you’re done with me. And you did.” So much for not crying, cause now, there were tears streaming down your cheeks. You weren’t even yelling at him, you couldn’t. You were talking with your hands, and on the last sentence you pointed your finger into his chest as you looked up at him. You were spouting out everything you felt to him, and you regretted it as soon as it came out of your mouth. It must have been the shots talking. “So- so don’t act worried now. I don’t-”

“Jesus Christ. Everything I do is because I’m worried! Can’t you see that? I don’t keep girls around a lot. Ever. But I kept you around. It’s not casual, Y/n. It’s scary. I care for very few people. The navy took one of them from me. It makes my chest hurt to think that could possibly happen to you, too. And you can hate me. I’m willing to be the worst guy in the world if it means you’re safe. I mean it. And I know I’m an idiot. I don’t give a fuck about that girl, I don’t even know her name. I thought it would make me stop thinking about you so fucking much. It didn’t. It’s every hour of every day, and it’s torture. I need you. All the time, every day I want you near me, Y/n.“ He didn’t realize everything he said until he stopped saying it. His hair wasn’t as neat as it usually was. He was talking with so much emotion; it was the most passionate you’d ever seen him. And all his words made you do was cry. You didn’t know exactly what you felt. Happiness, relief, longing? At some point during his talking he’d grabbed your arm so you’d know how much he meant this. He held you so gently, but with so much desperation. You just looked up at him. You couldn’t speak, you just listened to him. “I- I… Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t-“

You stumbled into his arms and cried. Again, you weren’t sure why. His embrace wrapped fully around you. It was the most secure you’d ever felt. He looked down at you as he rested his chin on the top you your head. His pulse was fast in his chest, you heard it.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” He whispered to you, and only you. You looked up at him, you were sure your makeup was fucked up in some way.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. He cupped your face with both of his hands and pulled you into him. His soft lips brushed yours and he kissed you with so much passion, but so careful. Your stomach turned as you stood on your toes to get more of him. You never wanted it to stop. You never wanted him to stop, and you hoped he never would.

When you finally pulled away, Bradley smiled at you. “I can’t walk back through the bar looking like this,” You giggled.

He laughed, and looked down at the wood deck. Was he blushing? “We can go around the side to my car. You still gonna refuse that ride or..?”

You swatted him with your hand. “What about the others? How will they get a ride home?”

“They can Uber.”

You feigned shock. “At this time of night? Soooo dangerous.”

He licked his lips and rolled his eyes trying to look annoyed at you, but the smile on his face was evident. “Come on,” he tugged you by your hand around the building to the parking lot, and threw his arm around you as you walked.

“So uh, my house or yours?” you asked shyly.

“Hmm, I could use a change of scenery.”

“It’s decided then.”

So you guessed it wasn’t casual anymore.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #fanfic #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #miles teller #tom cruise

221 notes · View notes

flowercitti · 8 months

Note

Hi, I read your one Astarion story "wanted to kiss your skin and your everything." First I would like to say it was so good it kinda made me wanna cry it was so sweet it's definitely one of my favorites I've read. :) But I saw at the bottom you said about a request so I was wondering if you would be willing to write a fic about Astarion and Asexual Tav/Reader. I honestly don't have any other specifics, but I haven't seen a lot of Ace content with BG3 which I understand but I would really love to see more. Please don't feel pressured or anything, thank you in the least. Have a great day or night :)

Wahh thank u sm I’m so glad you enjoyed that fic! 🤍☺️ and thank you sm for sending a request, I really love this idea! 🫶 here’s a little Drabble 🫶.

Fluff/Gender Neutral Reader/Ace Reader

🌸

You can’t say you’re surprised when Astarion propositions you. He’s open and flirtatious and he seems to now exactly what he’s doing, as well as being so wholly aware of the affect he has on people. He may not be able to see himself, but he’s learned well enough from the reactions his pretty face garners.

You agree with that assessment, he is rather beautiful, but when it comes to sex—

“What?” Astarion seems nearly speechless, his silver tongue gone heavy in his mouth as he blinks, coming damn close to outright stuttering, “I—I mean, surely you—I’ve seen how you look at me!” He huffs, looking frustrated and confused and completely thrown off.

It’s almost endearing, to see him grow so flustered, his suave persona melting through his shock. You can’t help but smile, “I’m just not really interested in sex. That’s all.” You shrug, and Astarion looks at you as if that tadpole in your head has finally started to transform you.

“You’re still very pretty and utterly charming, don’t worry.” You inform him, and Astarion chuckles, if only out of disbelief.

“Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.” He sniffs delicately, looking away from you, his full lips pursed in a slight pout.

You watch him shift from foot to foot nervously, ruby eyes regarding you warily, brows pinched as he seems to wager whether you’re lying to him or not.

“You don’t want me, then?” He says carefully, a faux sort of lightness infused in his tone. You see through it immediately. His eyes always give him away, glittering in the moonlight and fanned by dark lashes.

“I didn’t say that.” You manage a step closer, chewing on the inside of your lip, “It’s just the sex I don’t want. Everything else—I’m interested.”

“What else could you possibly want from me, then?” He seems to blurt, his mouth twisting out of confusion rather than anger, his gaze flickering away anxiously.

Something in your chest pangs, a painful churn behind your ribs. He looks like he believes it, like he thinks you’re teasing him or leading him on. You frown softly, holding your hand out between the two of you, leaving it open for him to take should he choose.

“I could show you, if you’d like.”

He stares at your hand like it’s a live trap, like it’s fit to spring its spikes into him the moment he reaches out. There’s a strange flicker of emotion that shifts across his face—relief, consideration, fear. His mouth parts, a quiet breath pressing past his lips as he considers you, seeming not to notice the long seconds that pass by. But he keeps his eyes steadily on you as he slowly slips his fingers over yours. His skin is unnaturally cool, perfectly smooth and untouched by calluses. You can nearly see him shudder from the simple contact, his face twitching in surprise, crimson eyes like pools of shining blood.

“I don’t see the point of this, surely there’s more I could do for you—”

You shush him, delighting in the scandalized look he rewards you with, “No. I like this more.” And you think he does to, more than he lets on, more than the sex he had been tempting you with.

His eyes are strangely glassy even as he huffs, looking down at your joined hands.

“You have better not be playing me.” He mutters, but he sounds nearly breathless as you thumb gently over his wrist. Your other hand comes up to hold his between both of yours, as if you could press heat into his lifeless flesh.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, then.” You say playfully, but your fingers are delicate as they trace the bones of his knuckles, finding the lines of his veins. You’re closer now than you were before, Astarion’s eyes just slightly widened as they regard you. His fingers shift in your hold, his thumb pressing experimentally into your palm.

He looks as if he’s never done this before, surprise and awe dancing over his face despite how hard he attempts to hide it.

“I suppose that I will.” He rasps, his head tilting to the side in wonder, and you meet him with small smile.

🌸

Astarion-flavored Requests are still open 🫶🤍 thank u sm for reading.

#astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #unsure where exactly this fits in his romance line but. use ur imagination.#x reader #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 astarion #gender neutral reader #ask me #my fanfiction

799 notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 1 year

Note

You have me looking more forward to fridays then I normally do. I SCREAMED when I read ifall Harry is going to be updated on Friday💛🤭

iFall for Harry pt. 4*

Summary: You and Harry have agreed to your first phone call.

And phone sex is always better together.

Word Count: 3.2k

(Previous parts to this series are down below at the end!)

“When was the last time you touched yourself?”

Right to the intimate questions, all right. “…last night.”

Harry hums. “And did you make yourself come?”

“I always make myself come,” you retort almost instantly. “Even if it takes all night.”

You swear you can hear him smile. “That’s what I like to hear.” There’s a brief pause as you hear him shift. “All right, since that was two questions and two answers…I’ve got two instructions.”

You nod before realizing he can’t see you.

“Want you to take your hand…and slip it under your shirt,” he says, and the sound of his voice has grown deeper. Labored, almost. “Just your shirt.”

You do just that, slightly cold palm meeting your warm skin as you trail it up to your chest.

“Are you doing it?”

“…yes.”

“Good girl.” More shifting. “Second, I want you to think about something that turns you on. Anything. Cocks, pussies, hands, legs, tits…whatever. Think of something you’d like to touch. Taste. Think of how you’d want to be touched…who you’d want to be touching you. And where.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you settle back into the arm of the couch to do just that. You think about an old ex-boyfriend that had a particular good technique. You think about the sounds you make when you’re so far gone that you’re dripping down your own hand. You think about soft, delicate whimpers. You think about deep, guttural groans.

You think about Harry.

His voice, his instructions. You don’t know anything past that, really, but you know that you could easily come to the sound of his voice alone. Even if all he did was breathe.

“Okay…” you exhale, thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple. “M’doing it…is it my turn now?”

There’s a gentle chuckle on the other side of the phone before Harry says, “Yeah. Ask me anything.”

In-between images of strong hands and sweaty skin, you work to find a question. “How long have you been…entertaining?”

There’s a pause. “Little over ten years.”

“And do you like it?”

Again, you hear him smile. “Yeah,” he murmurs, seemingly content. “Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t wanna do anything else, really.”

You pull your lip between your teeth. “Good to know. Are your pants down?”

He laughs once more, seemingly at the blunt switch in topics, but does answer. “Yeah, almost shoved ‘em down the second I came in here.”

You smirk. “And where are your hands?”

“Got one on my cock.”

“And the other?”

“And the other is waiting for you to tell it what to do.”

Your cheeks flush but you’re so pleased. “Want you to turn around…and put it on the wall. Want you to just stand there, looking down at the mess you’re making, while you think about how good it would feel to be pulling on someone’s hair.”

A few seconds of silence pass but you don’t miss the soft groan that slips through the speaker.

“Because I’m willing to bet…you like to have that kind of control…don’t you?” you add. “Like to take a fistful of someone’s hair and show them exactly who they answer to. Move them exactly where you want, make them do exactly what you’ve asked them to. Until they’ve got pretty little tears in their pretty little eyes.”

You’re not sure where you managed to find this dominance, but you certainly don’t mind. You both share the power right now, and for some reason…you can’t help but thrive off it.

“Am I wrong?” you ask.

“No,” he breathes as you hear him shuffle around. “No, not at all.”

“Didn’t think so.” You smile. “And are you doing what I’ve asked?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”

You hear him curse between gritted teeth and pride swells in your chest.

“All right, my turn,” he declares after he’s seemed to catch his breath. “Want you to tell me…what I can call you.”

Your brow raises.

“Doesn’t have to be your real name if you don’t want,” he continues. “But if I have to moan, ‘Cheese Girl,’ I might go soft.”

Your head shakes with amusement. “What do you want to call me?”

He takes a moment to think. “Thought about calling you Angel earlier, but that doesn’t exactly fit, now, does it?”

“Dunno,” you reply innocently. “You tell me.”

“It doesn’t.” The answer is resolute. “No, you’re no angel. At least, not one from heaven. And my little devil sounds a little too generous.”

You bite back your amusement as you listen.

“So, how ‘bout this?” he proposes. “I’ll call you exactly what you deserve to be called. If you’re good for me, then you’ll be my good girl. And if you’re not…well, then, I guess we’ll have to decide what you are.”

“Fine,” you agree softly, lashes fluttering with intrigue. “And let me guess…you’d like me to call you Daddy?”

“No,” he says, almost instantaneously. “No, I wanna hear you say my name. Wanna hear my name in that pretty mouth. Wanna make sure you know…that your pleasure…belongs to me.”

Impressed and beyond pleased, your breath hitches as you whisper, “Yes, Harry.”

You can’t see him, but he sounds proud. “That’s my good girl. Knew you would be. Was gonna punish you for not answering my question, but you’re behaving so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

He hums. “Then where is your other hand?”

“Wherever you want it to be.”

“That’s right. Go ahead and take your sweats off, baby, okay? M’not gonna let you touch yourself yet, but I think you deserve to be teased a little, hm?”

You swallow thickly as you set the phone down on the coffee table so you can rid yourself of the fabric on your legs.

Your fingers tremble with anticipation as you pull the pants down so you can toss them onto the floor, and once the air hits your bare legs, your muscles begin to unwind.

“Now…I want you to let your fingers trail along your inner thighs,” he instructs softly. “Nice and slow. I want you to feel the skin. How it tenses, how it dips, how it begs you for more. Bet it gets so soft the higher you get, yeah? Bet it’s so sweet, you could just bury your face into it.”

Goosebumps crawl their way across your body as you let yourself enjoy such a simple touch. And you obey his every instruction with focused precision as your body begins to yearn for more.

“How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you mumble, head rolling back. “Bet it feels as good as you do right now, yeah?”

“Maybe. Probably feel better if you told me what to do next.”

“Then I guess I better ask you another question, hm?”

“Think you should.”

The delicate dancing on your thighs slows as you search for your next inquiry. “I’m realizing I probably should have asked this question a long time ago, but…are you involved with anyone? Is there a relationship I’m ruining? Because I swear to God, if you purposefully didn’t tell me—”

“No,” he says quickly. “Fuck, no. I’d never…no. I wouldn’t do that to someone else or to you. No. No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fucking positive. M’not calling you just to get my rocks off and ruin a relationship, that’s…no,” he repeats, a bit more vehemently. “I fucking promise.”

You listen closely for any signs of deceit, and honestly, you suppose there really is no way to know for certain.

But, right now, you choose to believe him.

“Good,” you whisper, a tad relieved.

“And you?” he asks. “Is there…a Mr. Cheese Girl? Or Mrs.? Or Mx.?”

You smirk. “No,” you admit. “No, it’s just me, and the dead succulent I can’t ever seem to keep alive.”

Upon the mention, your eyes drift over toward the sad, dead plant near your TV. Poor thing.

He exhales a laugh that sounds a little airer than before. “You promise?”

“Girl Scout’s honor.”

“S’good.” You hear a bit of static and your breath hitches. God, please don’t let the call drop. “All right. Since we both asked, and we both answered…I think we both deserve a new instruction.”

“I agree. How’s that cock doing? Is it nice and red yet?”

He scoffs but you can tell there’s a slight, needy edge woven within the sarcasm. “How’d you know?”

“I can always tell.”

“Yeah? Then what would you like me to do about it?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and grin. “Want you to swipe your thumb across the top and take a taste for me. Tell me what I’m missing.”

“Fucking shit—” he hisses, and you swallow a giddy laugh. “God, maybe I do need Life Alert.”

You wait for him to follow the instruction, the soft sound of his sucking dancing through the speaker as you feel your stomach flip. “Well?”

“…honestly, it just tastes like come,” he admits, and you smile. “Bet yours is a whole lot sweeter, though, isn’t it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Find out for me.”

Thrilled with the permission to finally make contact, you move your hand from your thighs to your hips, touch slipping beneath the band so you can swipe your finger through.

Once you’re sure you’ve got enough, you bring your soaked finger up to your lips before laying it on your tongue.

You’ve tasted yourself before. He’s right, it’s really nothing that special (at least, not to you), but you play it up, because you know he’ll appreciate it.

You sigh and you suck, and you pop off your hand with satisfaction as you listen for the sound of his approval.

And it comes quickly, another curse scraping from his throat as it echoes around the bathroom.

“Good then, yeah?” he asks, almost regretfully, and you nod.

“Fucking delicious.”

Another hum. “I’ve got another question for you.”

“All right.”

“Are you dripping?”

You have to fight back a whine. “What do you think?”

“I think you should tell me.”

“Yes,” you admit, palm already sliding back down your stomach in search of your cunt. “God, more than I thought I’d be. Normally takes a little more effort. Guess I’ve been wound up for a while.”

“Yeah?” He almost sounds hopeful.

“Yeah.” Your hips shift against the couch, as if itching to thrust up into your hand. “Since the moment you made that stupid lube joke.”

You think you hear a laugh, but you can’t be sure. “You poor thing. If I’d known you were in such bad shape, I would have called you sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now.”

A beat.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “M’here. I’m right here. And I want you to do something else for me.”

“What?” you pant.

“Want you to close your eyes,” he instructs, and instantly, your lids fall shut. “Want you to close your eyes…and picture something.”

“Okay…”

He takes a breath. “Want you to picture my tongue on that pretty cunt.”

You roll your lips into your mouth and squirm along the cushions.

“I know you don’t know what I look like,” he adds. “But I want you to picture me talking to you while I take a taste. My hands on your thighs, holding you open for me, playing with you until you’re begging me to give you just a little more…”

And you do. God, you do picture him. Not a face but his voice. That deep, sultry cadence guiding you closer to the edge. Encouraging you—praising you.

If he looks half as good as he sounds…you might have accidentally won the lottery.

And you don’t need to imagine his face for this scenario he’s proposing to work. You simply allow your body to visualize the way it would feel to be held. Taken care of. Touched.

Tasted.

All while that voice of his talks you through each step.

Your fingers tap just near your clit, closer but still too far, begging for permission as you roll your head toward where your phone is still sitting on the coffee table. “Harry?”

“Yes, sweet girl?”

“Please…”

“Please what?”

You whine. “Please let me touch myself, this is…I can’t do it any longer.”

He makes a noise of approval before cooing, “Poor little thing. Does it hurt?”

“It does, it hurts.”

“Then answer another question for me, and I’ll let you.”

You huff to yourself as you work on your self-restraint.

And of course, he takes his sweet fucking time to ask. “If you ever find yourself needing release in the future…will you think of me?”

You hesitate, a little unsure what he means.

“Will you think…to ask for my help?” he clarifies when you don’t offer a response, and you exhale slowly.

“God, yeah,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Probably shouldn’t, but…don’t think I’d be able to think about anyone else.”

This time, you know you hear him smile. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Harry. Now…please.”

He offers you a rather sadistic chuckle. “Okay, baby, go ahead.”

So, you do. You generously coat your fingers and drag them up to your clit, pinching and circling exactly the way you like. “And what about you?”

“What about me, baby?”

“What are you doing?”

“What would you like me to do?”

Well, what you’d actually like him to do, he can’t since he’s not here.

So, you settle for, “Want you to give yourself a little squeeze and think of me.”

And you know he has because the sounds of gratification he makes are heavenly. You might not be able to picture him doing it, but the idea is there, and that idea gives you the inspiration and push you need to slip a finger inside.

And suddenly, something clicks.

It’s harmonious and effortless. Both of you, working to get yourselves off, to the noises of each other.

The game of questions comes to an end as the sound of his hand pumping his cock reverberates through the speakers, hitting your ear just so.

And he sounds so…fuck, so good. There’s a chill that runs down your spine when you allow yourself to imagine what it would be like to hear those sounds directly in your ear.

In person.

Sure, he could be a serial killer, but you’d let him murder you any day if it meant you could hear him whimper again.

Because he does. He whimpers, ever-so-slightly in the back of his throat and you almost miss it but thankfully you don’t.

And that sound alone, that desperation, is exactly what you’d needed to hear.

You add a second finger, stretching yourself just so as you pump and curl your way closer to release.

“You still with me?” he calls just as your back is beginning to arch off the sofa.

“Yeah,” you answer faintly. “M’here. Are you?”

“Right fucking here,” he says, a bit gruffer. “Just wanna hear you.”

Instinctively, you mewl, growing more and more unhinged as the second’s pass. You’re hitting just the right spot, feeling so goddamn full. And that, plus the way you’re treating your clit like a toy—you aren’t gonna make it much longer.

“Don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he muses, almost as if to himself. “S’fucking killing me, kitten. Don’t even know you and I’d give you everything I have.”

“Yeah?” you manage, almost inaudibly, but he hums.

“Yeah.” His voice is growing thicker. He’s gotta be getting close, and you’ve never needed to hear something so badly. “Gonna think about you for the rest of my goddamn life. Think about that sweet, little voice begging for me to let you touch yourself. Think about me fucking that throat raw. Think about the way you’d sound pleading for me to make it better.”

“Make it better, Harry, please,” you reply instantaneously, giving him exactly what he wants.

You’re rewarded with another breathy moan that drives your own fingers in further.

“Please,” you repeat. “Please make it better…need you, Harry, please—”

“Fucking hell, lovie. Don’t—” he warns, “—shit, don’t do this to me. Not when I can’t be there to do something about it—”

“Maybe you should be,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Maybe I was meant to get your number instead of Bryce’s.”

“Braden,” Harry corrects, and you smile weakly.

“Yeah, whatever.” You squirm a bit harder. “Maybe it was always meant to be you. Maybe this is how we find each other.”

“Through cheese puns and phone sex?” he teases, but you can tell he hardly has the strength.

“Yeah.” You tug on your lip so hard, you can taste the blood. “Don’t think I’ve ever found someone so good for me.”

Another groan. “Wanna be good for you, angel. Wanna be bad, too. Wanna give you everything. Wanna fucking ruin you for everybody else. Especially Braden.”

You’re so close. So fucking close and it’s all his fault. “Then give me everything, Harry, please. Need to hear you come for me…gotta hear it. Please.”

And it takes a minute, maybe two, but eventually the sound does come (and so does he), and it’s everything.

Deep, and long, and so fucking depraved. It’s everything you’d needed to kickstart your own, and the second that wave begins to rush over you…everything stops.

You disappear into him. Into his sounds. Into yourself. It’s long and it’s beautiful and it’s so much more intense than the one you’d had last night.

It’s so fucking perfect, and the sounds of your pleasure mix together through the phone as your entire living room fills with soft pants and erotic whimpers.

Neither of you speak for quite some time as you slow the thrusting of your fingers before pulling out completely.

Just for him, you take another taste, tongue lapping at your knuckles as you sigh blissfully, and he laughs through a pained grunt.

“Fucking minx,” he chastises. “Never needed to taste something so badly.”

“Guess that makes two of us.”

You hear another smile and some shuffling. “I’d let you have whatever you want. A taste, a snack, a fucking full course meal. Whatever you wanted, I’d give you.”

“I bet you would,” you agree gently. “You’d be so good for me.”

“Be anything you want me to be.”

“Just not good at puns.”

He laughs a little louder now, and you’re almost thrilled to know you can return to your previous rapport with no consequences. “How about I make you a deal, then? I’ll work on my puns…if you promise you’ll be here to listen to them.”

“Always,” you say without thinking, smiling yourself. “I mean, did you really think this was just one and done?”

“Was hoping not,” he admits, and you hear the sound of his buckle as he begins to put himself back together. “Honestly, I’m already thinking about the next time.”

“Me, too.”

He chuckles. “I hate to rush off, but if I don’t get back to the meeting, it’ll be a whole thing.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.” You smirk. “I gotta get to fixing your Girl Scout cookie order anyhow.”

“Amazing,” he replies. “Thought you’d forget.”

“Never.”

With that, you exchange your goodbye’s, and finally hang up the phone.

And you go about the rest of your day, tending to your work, and taking care of your dead plant as the post-orgasm haze continues to wash over you.

But something tells you…

You haven’t heard the last of Harry.

Next part! ~ iFall for Harry pt. 5

Previous parts:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 1

~ iFall for Harry pt. 2

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #iFall for Harry #harry styles concept

1K notes · View notes

partycatty · 26 days

Note

Hiee! I love the way you write bi han. When i read new tricks i IMMEDIATELY ascended. The depression i got when i finished reading them was tragic…

Me thirsting: I really wanna make out wit that man, like… imagine a situation where all you do is stare at him and hope he telepathically gets what you wanna do, but he just ignores you cause he dunno know how to initiate that shit 💀 he just needs a little push per say! Maybe one day you decide enough is enough and you sit your happy ass right down on his lap and bat your lashes at him like a menace 💕

ps: i hope u don’t mind me yapping… ik cage is your man, i apologize 😔🙏🏾

bi-han > see me now

notes: i've noticed i've kinda diverted my attention to other mk boys lately... namely raiden, kuai liang, bi-han and liu kang... so this works perfectly for me...

[ masterlist ]

• bi-han was a common victim to your teasing, particularly because it would render him entirely speechless and still. for a man that tends to rant about glory and strength, you shut him up like nothing else.

• it was really hard to ignore the fact that you were super into each other, the air thick and tension high when you two were in each other's presence. his brothers would roll their eyes as their grandmaster stands dead-still, as if you had the ability to sense fear when you'd bat your eyelashes his way.

• he can't go to anyone for advice. what, he's gonna talk about his feelings? like a loser? no. real ninjas let emotions fester.

• which brings us to where we are now

• bi-han sat at his desk, physically straining himself to focus on the scroll in front of him when he sees your presence in the doorway. shit, he recognized your footsteps down the hall the moment you were in earshot.

• trying to act as if you weren't shitting your own pants at the thought of your plan, you plant your ass on his desk, sitting and dangling your feet from the wooden furniture with a singsong look about you.

• the silence is so thick is almost halts your breathing. his stone-cold face makes you wonder if this was a bad idea in hindsight, at least, until his lips part to speak.

• "what are you doing?" a simple question, really, but the answer was completely lost on you. thinking back, you didn't actually have a plan. what did you expect to happen? this is bi-han we're talking about.

• "sitting," you reply with your nose high, looking down at him like his question was idiotic.

• "on my desk?" another long silence hurts your ears as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "what do you want." his question sounded less like a question and more like an annoyed statement. then again, everything he says sounds annoyed.

• "what's your deal?" you ask your questions in such a light tone, bi-han feels more obligated to feel threatened. "do you like me or not?"

• clearly this isn't getting far. "what?"

• you huff and decide it was now or never. sliding from his desk, you saunter your way around and swing one leg over his thighs, then the other. his hands shoot out to support you, right on the plush skin of the outside of your thighs. bi-han's eyes are wide.

• "you see me now?" you try to sound triumphant past your nerves, looking up at the ninja through your lashes. "always so afraid to look at me. you're not subtle, grandmaster."

• forced to face you, his gruff words feel choked as they come out. "i don't—"

• "yes you do," you smile, albeit a little wickedly as you shift on his lap, making a cold breath slip past his lips.

• "what are you getting at?" he seems eager to end this, to cool his heated temperature.

• you hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck. "i want you to kiss me."

• "now?"

• you roll your eyes at his chipping resolve, tugging him in by the back of his head. both of your eyes wander across each other's expressions before bi-han hesitantly meets his lips with yours. as expected, they have a bit of a chill as he makes contact, but even still you feel him melt into the touch, gripping harder on your thighs to ground himself.

• you only get a moment to pull away and breathe, relishing in taking what you wanted from the hard ass grandmaster. the triumph is short lived when he thrusts his head back in, connecting his lips with yours with more fervor after successfully testing the waters.

• he's hungry, craving more of what he sampled after successfully tearing down this stupid barrier he put up. god, your taste drives him wild as his hands guide your hips along his, grinding with hard pressure.

• it becomes open-mouthed and messy rather quickly, bi-han's hands wandering up from your thighs to your waist, the touch making you shiver and gasp as he uses the opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth, completely absorbing every whimper you give.

• your hands snake into his hair, deepening the kiss when you snag a fistful of his dark locks, and he groans into your mouth just as the tie falls loose. strands litter his face and swirl about, you hadn't even noticed they were wavy from how often he keeps his hair up.

• the want for more is overpowered by your critical thinking skills. "weren't you busy?"

• bi-han shakes his head slightly, jumping up from his chair and bringing you with him. instinctively, your thighs clasp around his middle, holding his shoulders as he shamelessly uses your ass to hold you up. you're slid onto the desk as various items clatter and fall to the floor, his hard body fitting perfectly between your legs as he reaches forward to kiss you again, chasing your lips when you pull away.

• "it can wait."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han smut #marley writes ☆

209 notes · View notes

carni-val · 6 months

Text

When you know, you know [Carmen Berzatto]

pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

summary: Carmy has a problem saying I love you, but he's got no problem showing it.

warnings: Slight angst if you squint really hard, some fluff

author’s notes: Yeah, it's been a year since I've written something but my current hyperfixation on The Bear has really inspired me to write. Carmy's struggle with saying I love you is so real, but I sincerely feel he's an acts of service man. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you so much for reading!

She stood at the opening of the door, looking down on him. She worked a full shift and she was still as beautiful as when she woke up this morning. He, on the other hand, looked dishevelled; he was sure of it. His hair was all over the place from running his hands through the mass of curls with a thin sheen of sweat layered over his skin and he was still a little self-conscious about the smell of the restaurant that had clung to him upon his arrival, as Sugar mentioned earlier.

She didn’t seem to mind though as she knelt down on the floor beside him. Overdue invoices and notes scribbled down in his brother’s chicken scratch surrounded him on the office floor.

She was closer now, and yes, still beautiful.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” he couldn’t help but huff out a sigh.

Prepping the menu and serving it to all the customers was more than enough work for the day, especially with the disastrous system Richie insisted on upholding. The bed he’d been dreaming about collapsing into, beside her, seemed to get more and more distant with more of the shit he uncovered in the office. Who knew an office so small could have so much shit hiding in it?

“Still sorting, huh?” her eyes held sympathy for him, noticing how tired he looked.

“Still sorting,” he confirmed, his eyes softening when they met hers. “I think it’s gonna be another long night for me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Can I help?” she asked, already scanning the documents.

“No, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go home and go to bed?” he reached out and stroked her cheek with his hand, cupping her jaw with the palm of it.

She leaned into his touch, “You’ve had a long day too, and I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Let me help.” She settled down on the floor next to him. “What can I do?”

Carmy’s gaze lingered on her. If he thought about it all too long, he’d break down, he was sure of it, so he simply asked her to organize the overdue invoices — ones for the restaurant, ones for the inventory and so on.

“Yes chef,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Carmy felt the laugh escape him before shaking his head. He watched her for a moment.

He really—

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Maybe it was something to do with Donna, or the fact that he never really had a girlfriend before her, or because he still couldn’t figure out what the hell she was still doing with him.

His breath caught as he felt a twinge in his chest. He brought a hand up to soothe it and she looked over at him.

“Bear?” her warm hand reached up and pressed against his. “You okay?”

The concern in her eyes stole his breath but it soothed the ache in his chest. He felt a hint of embarrassment, desperately not wanting to have a panic attack in front of her. He didn’t want to scare her.

So he just nodded and let a smile stretch across his face, albeit tight-lipped.

She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push him. She just took his hand in hers and kissed his tattooed knuckles.

His smile cracked, revealing his teeth, and it was more genuine. She seemed convinced, releasing his hand and turning back to the work.

“You hungry? Can I make you something to eat?” he asked instead.

“I’m okay, I had a late lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’ll take me a minute.”

“I’m sure,” she smiled up at him. “I just wanna get this done so you can get to bed.”

Her hand reached up and held his cheek this time. She ran her thumb underneath the bag of his eye. After kissing the palm of her hand, they got to work.

After almost three hours of sorting, Carmy excused himself for a smoke break.

“Can I make you something?” he offered once again, standing in the doorway.

She shook her head, deciding that he’d done enough cooking for the day. Although she was starving at this point, she just wanted to get Carmy home and to bed so he could rest.

Although he lingered at the door for a moment, to probably try and convince her, he decided against it, leaving the office with his cigarettes in hand.

She knew he loved to cook for her, always watching her as she took the first bite of anything he cooked for her, but seeing the toll the restaurant had taken on him after only just a week was beginning to worry her. That’s why whenever her stomach grumbled, she let out a cough or ruffled some papers around to try and mask the sound. She knew Carmy would put her before himself and she couldn’t allow that.

She decided she’d eat once he went to bed, or maybe when he got into the shower.

Yeah. The shower seemed like a good idea.

A great one actually.

Spending three hours sorting through paperwork seemed like enough to call it a night — seven hours since she had lunch. Her stomach grumbled again and she could swear she smelt hints of beef, sautéed onions and peppers in the air.

She really needed to get home.

At the thought, the door to the office opened and behind her stood Carmy with two plates, a sandwich on each of them.

“Carmy-“

She began to protest but he stopped her. He knelt down, not having to dodge copious amounts of papers now that everything was sorted into neat, organized piles.

“I could hear your stomach from out there,” he nodded his head towards the kitchen.

A sheepish expression overtook her face as she looked down to the steaming contents within the sandwich.

“This looks and smells amazing, Bear.”

“Tastes even better,” he held out a plate to her.

Eagerly, she took the plate in one hand and picked up the sandwich with the other and took a bite. Flavours melded together to cause a more than satisfactory feeling to overcome her. Her ravenous stomach finally settled while begging for more at the same time.

She hummed as she chewed, nodding her head in complete ecstasy. Carmy laughed, ducking his head and shaking it slightly at her theatrics. She laughed along with him.

His bashful expression made her heart swell. He had never been more attractive to her. Seeing him do the thing he was so talented at was a sight she could never grow tired of. But the drive and determination that oozed out of him as he worked to whip this restaurant into shape opened up a whole new side to Carmy that she’d never seen before.

She loved him.

Not that she would say it again, because the one time she did, she watched how catatonic Carmy became. After his sincerest apologies, she assured him it was okay.

She decided to let it hang in the air and let him say it when he felt okay to do so.

In the meantime, she’d revel in the ways he showed her.

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

314 notes · View notes

pinkacademiaprincess · 8 months

Note

Hiii I’m so sorry to bother you!, hope your day goes well <3 I just want to ask, how can I improve in maths? I’m preparing myself for the sat and I have trouble with understanding it. Any tips would be very much appreciated, thanku !! ♡

Become a Math Whiz: Acing Math Class & the SAT 📈✏️📚👩‍🏫

ty for the ask & the kind words! you are never a bother, i'm happy to help 🥰 i can def give some tips as someone who went from struggling w/ math to being good at it. and i’ve taken the SAT so i know that experience as well! i hope this helps 💗

take accountability

it’s very easy to try to shift blame & avoid taking responsibility for your grades/ performance. i used to think things like “the teacher is just bad!” or “i’m just not a math person!” but this mindset is just deflecting. some things are out of your control, like what teacher you have or preferring other subjects, but you have to step up & work hard to create your own success! remembering this will help you stay motivated and disciplined.

find your learning style

i talked about this in a previous post too, but there are different styles of learning - visual, auditory, hands-on, & reading/writing - and not all of them work for everyone. if you spend a ton of time studying and don’t see improvement or results, that’s a big sign that you’re studying wrong. a method that works for your friend or that your teacher uses might not actually be effective for you. so do some research into learning styles and study methods, and find implement strategies that work for you.

never fall behind

okay, easier said than done. but one of the biggest reasons i used to struggle is math is that i would get stuck on a concept, never fully master it, and then i’d stay behind. in math, a lot of topics build on each other. if you get stuck on a topic, it’s crucial that you figure it out asap or your confusion will snowball. you can’t build a solid structure on top of a wobbly foundation. the moment you encounter a problem area, study it until you’ve completely understood.

practice makes perfect

i try to steer clear of recommending specific study methods b/c everyone has different learning styles. but math is so dependent on problem solving & applications that you really have to master this skill in order to succeed. beyond just reviewing your notes & reading over concepts, you need to practice applying topics by solving problems. do the homework questions & do them for accuracy, even if it’s just graded for completion. find extra problems in the textbook, workbook, online, etc. redo questions from class or the hw that confused you until you can do them correctly without your notes. drill it until you can solve them AND understand how the steps work!

ask for help

i am clearly a big proponent of asking for help. in school, your teachers are gonna be one of the best resources you have. for one, they’re teachers for a reason, so even if you think they’re not too great at explaining stuff, they know the concepts. and besides that, your teachers the ones who are creating units, assigning your work, writing & grading your tests... they should be your go-to for questions. visit them during office hours or email to set up a meeting where you can discuss concepts. ask for extra practice problems, ask them to look over your work & let you know how it looks, talk through your work with them. aside from teachers, you can get help from a tutor, a classmate, whoever you can turn to. but pls don’t suffer alone! succeeding with help is still succeeding.

use the internet

so maybe your teacher truly sucks at explaining. maybe you don’t have classmates to help and can’t afford a tutor. or maybe you just wanna supplement your learning another way. i really really recommend utilizing free learning tools online!! khan academy is an obvious one for videos, practice problems, and more. you can also find tons of youtube videos explaining math topics. sometimes it helps to hear things explained another way. i also google “[math concept] practice problems” if i want extra questions to work through.

bonus: tips for SAT math

the SAT is a bit different b/c the math concepts aren’t actually too advanced. it’s all multiple choice so you don’t get to rely on partial points for showing your work. the SAT is testing your strategy & speed as much as it’s actually testing you on math concepts, so here are my best tips for that specifically:

use khan academy’s SAT prep tool - it’s free (!!!!!) and it links to your collegeboard account. it uses prior years’ SAT content so it’s very similar to the test itself. it helps you pace yourself, pinpoint your problem areas, learn & apply concepts, & track your progress. here's a screenshot from when i used it, as you can see my scores improved and i was able to ultimately get a superscore of 1450!

take practice tests - this helps you get familiar with the time constraint. khan academy has plenty!!

do a ton of SAT math practice questions - ideally, find a ton of questions used in prior SAT tests and just crank them out. the test's concepts are quite repetitive so if you just focus on the topics they usually test, you can master them

learn test-taking strategies - the SAT is multiple choice and has a tricky time constraint, so however you can save time will help. become good at using the process of elimination & other multiple choice test methods. you can find these sorts of tips online!

i hope this helps! know that you are completely capable of improving at math. i went from thinking i suck at it & doing poorly in math class to acing my calc courses & studying to enter a math-focused field. utilize your resources and figure out your best study style asap, and you WILL see improvements!

409 notes · View notes

rinbowaman · 5 months

Note

Okay I saw this vid about a girl giving the strap of her bra to her bf so he can wear it as a bracelet, and now I’m curious if heethan would be into that aswell🤭

“I Wanna Know What Love Is (I Want You to Show Me.)”

Warnings: hint of smut, hints/mentions of Somnophilia (consensual or dubcon), hints of breeding kinks (symbolized by flowers)....think that's it.

You chuckle as you read off the last message. Heeseung can be so bold with his words of affection, sometimes, it truly does make you wonder how he came to be obsessive. Were you really all that to him? its silly to ask, considering it had been over a year since you both met, fell in love, and united in this rather unique relationship.

You watch as he pulls up against the curb, and as always, he steps out and greets you with a hug, smile, and a kiss atop your head. He sits you in the passenger seat before getting back in, then drives off. you waited until you both arrived at his dorm room before bestowing your gift. "here..." you softly whispered as you dangle the item from your finger.

He studied the gift for a moment before reaching for it. What an interesting gift it was...he'll never guess what it was–

"it's your bra strap..." his deep voice punctures your thought as he correctly guessed the material that you had turned into a bracelet.

"H-how did you know?"

he loops the item with his index while lifting his face slightly enough to show an eye under the bill of his cap; a smirk accompanies the gleam from the heavy casted shadow. "It's my favorite one." he winked as he spoke out, chuckling while he placed the leather strap around his wrist.

You were shocked to find how attentive he really was to your lingerie set, to the point where he could automatically tell where the material came from. Your leather and mesh bra had torn, and you wondered what to do with the pretty leather straps since they were too nice to merely toss out. You got the idea of turning them into matching bracelets, with small trinkets to represent the meaning of your union. Heeseung had the sun trinket, and you had the flower, that of which only thrives because of the sun. It was all so fitting, and they went well with the fine leather material that you couldn’t contain yourself, you just had to make them. But you were a bit embarrassed that he was able to deduce where you got the materials.

“Well…do you like it?” you asked, watching as he lifts his hand, admiring how the sun trinket dangles under his wrist. “Love it.” he simply remarks.

“My bra tore up and I wanted to make use of the straps.” you explained as you slipped your own bracelet on, showing him the matching flower trinket.

“Huh…well I would have expected that.” he states, again so calmly and placid. You raised your brows in response as he shifted his sharp gaze over to you.

“What do you mean?” he smirks once more upon hearing you inquire about his statement, to which he gleefully bites down on his bottom lip and explains.

“Ah…that’s right, you were too sleepy to recall how it all started that night.”

“....What night?”

“The night I woke up and found you all too irresistible to leave alone…so I undid your bra with my teeth and tore it apart.”

“When was this?? I don’t remember you–”

“You woke up as I was in mid-thrust and reached up for my neck and whispered ‘deeper’....remember?

You found yourself melting as you now recalled the night Heeseung spoke of. You woke up feeling an immense fullness in your gut, a throbbing rod pulsating and beating against your walls as you opened your eyes to pitch darkness, and hearing only his grunts and heavy breathing while he had himself fully inserted. The grooves and veins of his cock ribbed for your pleasure as he thrusted in and out; it was the most delightful way to wake up, despite it being 2 am in the morning on a school night. You wanted more, so you had reached up and delicately wrapped your arms around his thick neck, running your fingers through his shaggy hair as you begged for him to do more…it was during your ovulation period, so how could anyone blame you?

“...Heeseung!”

“Don’t even, y/n. You were begging for it.”

“But I really liked that bra! Besides, you took total advantage. I was ovulating.”

He lunges over and smacks his palm against the wall, caving you in as his chest faintly presses against your breasts. With a malicious grin, yet his face remaining ever so handsome, he tells you mercilessly, “still doesn’t change the fact that you said…’deeper’.”

His free hand rises, the tips of his fingers trail upwards and slowly lifts the hem of your shirt, revealing your mid torso. He continues to move up, until he reaches the lining of your bra, delicately cradling your left breast. He leans in and whispers into your ear…

“How about it, babe?...Want me to go in….deeper?”

You slightly nod, finding his mannerism and that deep, dark voice of his too irresistible. He was your man after all, how could you say no?

“Yeah? How about harder?”

“Mm….yes….”

“What about ‘faster’?”

“Y-yes….”

“Does my pretty little flower feel like blooming?”

“Mm…mmhmm…” you nod once more with shaky breaths.

“Well…” he drifts as he unclasps your bra from behind. Once you feel the release of pressure snap, with the band loosening instantaneously, he reaches down and snakes his cunning fingers up your skirt, rubbing your clit ever so gently. “The sun is ready to shine. So come show me the little flower bud and I’ll make it bloom…maybe even make other little flowers out of it. Would you like that, pretty? Hmm?....You want me to plant baby roses and make things bloom forever?"

Before you could answer, he snaps a whisper against the helix of your ear. "Say yes."

"...Y...yes.....yes....."

He may not have a green thumb, but that didn't stop Heeseung...and his Ethan side from planting thousands, perhaps millions, of baby roses....and as he did so, you felt them all blooming inside as he went in deeper....harder...and faster.

251 notes · View notes