#I wonder if the stash has a name
Text
Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.
Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you:
1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator.
2. Your dear fiancé.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.
Word count. 3.0k
A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.
Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing.
It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.
Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now.
But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.
---
It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.
Was Satoru running late on a mission today?
It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.
Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.
Wait.
Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?
“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day.
Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?
“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence.
Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step.
Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.
Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.
There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru.
Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair.
Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing.
“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance.
“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.
In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.
“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.
You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.
Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.
Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up.
A shiver runs down your spine.
“Toru…you okay?”
“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer.
“Satoru.”
The simple call of his name sealed your fate.
The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed.
Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.
“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?
“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?
“What?”
“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt.
And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth.
Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.
Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”
“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..
Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.
You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy.
You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours.
Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.
He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.
Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection.
Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.
Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue.
In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?
Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.
As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.
“T-Toru…are you okay?”
But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.
A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you.
You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.
“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.
You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs.
You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.
“I want-”
You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core.
You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive.
“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.
Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.
It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.
“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”
Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor.
“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle.
Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies.
With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.
If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.
Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.
“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine.
“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.
Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”
You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally.
“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure.
You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt.
Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.”
You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.
His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy.
“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.
Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.
“One- more.” he moans.
Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.”
“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts.
You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed.
Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.
Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick.
Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out.
“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets.
As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.
You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully.
Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.
Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out.
Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half.
Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive.
Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night.
Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore.
“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.
You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.
Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru.
The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?
That’s when you black out.
Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.
Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch.
What happened.
“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.
“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?
“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”
“...wow.”
“Wow.���
“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”
“...”
A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”
A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jjk#gojo satoru#tonywrites
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.
The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.
So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.
It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.
Until two years ago.
The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.
There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.
(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)
The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…
Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.
He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.
The one month everyone will go crazy for.
Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).
You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?
Well.
"Sir?"
Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.
Oh God.
Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.
It's the paramedic. From the calendar.
He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.
November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.
"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"
Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.
"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."
November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!
"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"
"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."
As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.
Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…
"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"
"Eh, Thursday?"
"Do you know where you are?"
"The Behemoth."
Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"
Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.
"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."
"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"
"Nope."
"Good. Did you drink tonight?"
"Half a beer, at most."
"Do-"
"Eddie!"
Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"
He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?
Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"
"My drummer. Gareth."
Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.
"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."
"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-
Oh.
He's staring at Steve.
No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.
That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.
Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.
"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"
"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"
"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."
"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."
"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.
"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"
"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"
"No."
Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."
"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"
Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.
"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.
Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.
Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.
"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."
He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.
"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.
"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"
Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"
Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.
On the other hand: hospital bills.
"… no."
"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"
Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."
"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"
"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.
Steve is already packing his medical bag.
"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"
The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.
"Got it."
Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.
"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."
"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"
He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…
"Dude!"
Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.
Shit.
He'll never hear the end of this.
"Don't!" he hisses.
Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.
"That was-"
"Don't!"
"I can't believe it!"
"Gareth-"
"You are so red right now!"
"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"
------------------------------
Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).
Part 2
AO3
#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think#no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it#steddie#steddie fanfic#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#gareth stranger things#it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin'#because i think he looks like one#this is part one out of [undecided]#i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun#my writing#steddie fic: november paramedic
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about
"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs
just friends:
pairing: yoongi x gn! reader
genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au
summary: maybe you were never just friends
word count: 1.2k
tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart
notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D
drabble masterlist || all my other works
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.
You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.
You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.
But Yoongi had been different.
It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.
Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.
Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.
In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.
Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.
Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.
But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.
Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.
You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.
And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.
That was until tonight.
It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.
And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.
You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.
“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.
“Because you don’t like m—”
He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.
“Don’t finish that”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”
He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.
“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”
He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.
You nod.
“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”
You swallow.
“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”
The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”
“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”
You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.
“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.
“Whatever you want” he reassures.
“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.
He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”
You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”
He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”
“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.
“Then I’ll give you a kiss”
“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”
He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”
You chew on your bottom lip.
“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.
“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”
“But—” you worry.
“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”
Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.
“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.
#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts#yoongi#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi fic#min yoongi imagine#bts non idol au#bts drabble
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk
part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift
everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...
pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)
premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.
warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol
wordcount: 6.8K
note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.
“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”
You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.
“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.
There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.
It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.
“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”
The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.
“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”
“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”
“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”
He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”
You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”
“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”
“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”
“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”
He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”
“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”
You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.
“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”
“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”
“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”
“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”
“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”
“Show me him.”
You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.
Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”
“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”
“Will do. Night, buddy.”
“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”
He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.
“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.
“Daddy.”
“I am his dad!”
“Daddy.”
“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”
“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”
“Fuck off!”
You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.
His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.
Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.
It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.
You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.
Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.
Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.
There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.
See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.
Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.
You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.
He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.
But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.
It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.
It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.
He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.
It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.
“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.
“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”
But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.
“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”
You’d just raised an eyebrow.
“You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”
Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.
Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.
You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.
He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.
In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.
You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.
“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.
“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.
“You gotta promise me something first.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you won’t fall in love with me.”
You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”
“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”
“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”
“What do you want?”
“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”
“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.
You love Bam.
In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.
Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.
You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.
Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.
Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.
Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.
Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.
Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.
“Hey, wait…”
“Mhhm?”
“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”
He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.
He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.
You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.
When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.
Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.
He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.
But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.
There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.
But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.
And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.
He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.
Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.
And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.
You’d both be soaked.
He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.
It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.
His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.
He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.
And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.
He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.
He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.
He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.
Just thinks about you.
Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.
His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.
He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.
In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.
The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.
He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.
His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.
You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.
It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.
You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -
“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.
He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.
Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.
But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-
Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.
He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.
He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.
It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.
You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.
And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.
He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”
“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”
It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.
But you don’t see Mingyu.
When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.
“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.
Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”
You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”
The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.
“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”
“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.
“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”
Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.
“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.
“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”
“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”
“Understandable.”
You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.
“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”
“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”
“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”
“Oh?”
“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”
“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”
“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”
“Wait, no-”
You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.
The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.
Jungkook lies awake that night.
Doesn’t do much.
His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.
He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.
Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.
Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.
He rarely ever goes in there.
Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.
It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.
In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.
But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.
Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.
But you do.
An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.
“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.
It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.
“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.
And he knows.
He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.
Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.
Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.
It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.
It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.
One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.
And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.
One more day. He can do this.
He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.
He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.
The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.
It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.
It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.
He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.
He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.
Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.
At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.
But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.
Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.
Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.
“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.
“Was I interrupting something?”
“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”
Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.
They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.
“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”
His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.
“He was lost without you,” you confirm.
“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”
Bam barks. Yes.
“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”
Yes, you think. Yes, he is.
The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.
“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”
Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”
Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.
“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”
Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.
“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”
He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.
You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.
And then, they roll.
“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”
“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.
“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”
Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”
You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.
“He LOVES me.”
“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”
Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”
Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.
So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.
Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.
But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.
Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.
Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.
“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”
“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.
A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.
But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.
It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.
Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.
When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.
Thinks of you.
And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.
The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.
And apparently, so is he.
Shit.
#byholly#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#bangtan fic#officeworker!jungkook#fuckboy!jungkook#f2l#hi bam!!!!#ian#jungkook fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.
Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way.
It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip.
He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.
And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist.
"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."
"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.
"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen.
"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh.
"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."
"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric.
With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."
Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."
You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"
Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"
You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"
"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.
"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second.
You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you.
He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."
"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him.
He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before.
"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to.
"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.
You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."
"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.
"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."
You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?"
Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.
When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."
"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again.
"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders.
Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."
Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered.
"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."
You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.
You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."
He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.
The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.
"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"
--------------------------------
Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things.
Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.
With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.
But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.
"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"
"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"
As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.
"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."
The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.
"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler.
"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"
"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating.
You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."
"Promise?"
"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case.
You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck.
The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path.
"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more.
When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.
You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.
"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car.
It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms.
"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.
"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"
You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.
"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!"
You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.
"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.
You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry.
"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down.
You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.
----------------------------
Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind.
He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.
Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you.
Be home soon.
You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.
But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you.
"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."
You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."
"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.
"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."
"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."
Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off.
"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"
You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.
You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"
Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.
"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."
"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."
You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?
Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."
He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess."
------------------------
You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.
"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you.
"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."
You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now.
"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."
You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.
"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.
"Thank you."
"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.
"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me."
It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while.
When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"
"Of course."
Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home.
--------------------------
Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.
As soon as your text came through, he sighed.
Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.
Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.
"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."
"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"
"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."
-----------------------
She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !
PART 13
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@swthxrry
@chassy21
@yaboid19
@solacestyles
@avoirlecoupdefoudre
@daisyhollyxox
@callsigndiamond
@harper1666
@throwinsauce
@beebslebobs
@awesomebooklover17
@wintercap89
@whosyourgnomie4
@rosesinmars
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@wishfulwithwine
@backinwonderl4nd
@monte-carlando
@tetragonia
@gingerbreadandpaper
@emptyloverofmine
@apparently-sunshine
@chaoticassidy
@missmirandafe
@topgunbb
@changlingkhat
@sugarcoated-lame
@callsign-jupiter
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@andycanbeemotional
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@tallyovie
@shanimallina87
@starlightstories
@teddyluvs2sing
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@lilyevanswhore
@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o
@xoxabs88xox
#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfic#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x female reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
will you ever come back, or is this an indefinite hiatus/straight up dipping?
i don't know
all the i miss yous are making me want to come back but ik i would just be terrified and motionless as soon as i do
Vent-ish Rant downstairs
CW: Pedophilia, Antisemitism, Suicide, Ableism, Harassment, Bullying, all the important words except for murder basically
i want to fix things in private with the people who hurt me so things can be okay and I don't out them for being wieners
but i also want everyone to know who hurt me, yet I'm aware it's not the right choice to make. social media outrage barely leads to anything, specially where minors are concerned
hell,now that i think about it, considering the fact that they genuinely don't believe people older than them are allowed to have feelings, I don't even think talking would be the right move
it's scary, its fucking scary
fuck. the whole thing started with a person mocking the way i spoke about crowley telling me to stop babying him because i was a legal adult and shouldn't be speaking like that
i had just turned 18 and the person was only a year younger than me
like when it's gone to that point and shit is that fucked up, what can one person even do
i remember i laughed about it back then but truth be told, every single little thing I've been told and that I've listened to coming from the people who hurt me has fucking destroyed me as a person
I looked at my older Discord messages, from before this whole mess started. I was so fucking happy and shameless with my joy, now look at my sorry ass
i just.
it's crazy that i have to go around masking in social media of all places because there are people that take such offense to me being cringe that they legitimately turn into high school mean girls
it's crazy that there are people who claim I'm something i am not because they want to make me look bad in the eyes of their little circlejerking friend groups so they can feel like the hero of the story
it's crazy that empathy goes completely out of the window when an account is big, that people don't see human beings as human beings when they're behind a screen
"just log off lol" i am a lonely shut in motherfucker due to my autism (that, surprise surprise, hinders my ability to socialize), you do not understand what you're asking of me, specially while being in this country and at this point in time where I'm actively craving to kick the metaphorical bucket, at daily risk of doing so, and what basically is house arrest for my own safety and well being
(aka, avoiding to physically yeet myself into upcoming traffic or buying something to actually seal the deal)
thus far I've been accused of antisemitism, pedophilia, being too self-centered (which. bro, the reason why i talk about myself is because it's the one thing i can comment on without being scared of some random person coming to tell me "NuH uH" about it out of nowhere or worse, having their feelings hurt because I don't agree with them 100%), proshipper (which, to those people, the word implies wonderful labels such as "incest apologist" "pedophile" (again) "abuse endorser" among other things) ((sidenote, I'm on neither side on that particular discourse. my friends from both sides know this. I would elaborate on my stance if this wasn't already long enough, but it is, so I'm leaving it at an "I don't care, you do you, but please leave me out of it")), being... mean... because i blocked someone...? (this one is just. that's how the second wave of hate started btw. yeah, because i blocked someone. holy fuck), and there's probably a handful of other things I haven't seen yet. fuck it, there's probably someone out there calling me a zoophile because of my catboy au
My friends who I will not name because I don't want the high school mean girls crusade to get to them, have helped me stash out evidence for all of the accusations and bullying.
fuck, they were the ones who let me know about it on the first place, both actions for which i am eternally thankful for because it means I can defend myself properly should the occasion arise (dios no quiera)
I've already had to make a post on Xitter responding to the antisemitism and pedophilia claims, in which, for the latter, i had to reveal extremely personal information for the people who started this to give me respite if only for a while
and. ugh
What I'm trying to get at with all of this is. it's. coming back is scary. i want to but at the same time I don't think I can take this shit anymore
I wish I had people defending me like this when the harassment started because I'm a spineless little bitch who'd rather talk things out and at least be neutral with people than clap back and tell them to stop being stinky
but what's done is done and now i just gotta figure out how to fix my head before i do something stupid
this is not the full story obviously, I'm cutting off certain details as well as more personal depression stuff to not make this bible longer than it already is
fuck
TLDR: I need a hug, idk if I'm coming back, I probably will cuz I can't say no to people, and some teenagers are horrible
#aneh answers#aneh cries#sorry this is so desorganized and scattered#never been too good at writing#and to clarify#no im not outing the shitheads#i just feel like theres no way to fix things anymore#theyre far too... words#ngh
584 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just You & Me, Darlin'
joel miller x f!reader (18+)
A/N: OMG Okay, I'm actually doing this! I'm posting something for the first time in over 4 years and I'm super nervous. Pedro Pascal just has me by the titties, and so do all of you wonderful writers and artists I've been so inspired by, so here is my little contribution 🫣💕
You can also read this on my ao3 if you prefer 😊
summary: When Tommy returns to the QZ without you, Joel is both terrified and furious but he’s determined to get you back safe no matter what.
tags/warnings: 18+ Explicit | Minors Do Not Interact Please! no use of y/n, boston qz, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts, slight exhibitionism, explicit smut, unprotected piv, no description of female reader, other than joel can pick you up and kinda implied age gap, squirting, emotional sex, unbeta'd, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin', baby girl). oh and you're both super in love so :) I think that's it.
word count: 5.9k
Joel’s heart was fluttering within his chest, nerves and excitement flooding him as he made his way up the steps of his apartment building. If all had gone well, you were due back from the week-long smuggling run outside of the QZ today, and he had been stuck on work duty for most of it.
He hadn’t been able to go with you since someone had needed to stay back and protect their store of goods and ration cards from being stolen in their absence, they’d learned this the hard way.
And in his mind he’d drawn the short straw.
Joel would much rather be out there with you than stuck here wondering if you were okay. Here, he was unable to do anything if something went wrong but he knew you, the little hell-raiser that you were could definitely handle yourself.
The both of you had agreed when you first started sleeping together that it shouldn’t mess with the business, it gave you all a more comfortable life in the QZ than most got to have after all.
Even after falling hard for one another following the sharing of your past within whispered cuddles post sex, you both still tried to keep the business professional and that meant trusting one another to watch your own and your partners’ backs.
As he entered his apartment he was surprised to see Tommy sitting on his couch with his head in his hands.
Joel’s stomach dropped at the sight, he already knew something was wrong. Heart breaking into a gallop against his sternum he quickly scanned the apartment, the open layout giving him a view of the whole room and you were nowhere in sight.
Joel's hands tightened into fists, his jaw tensing in anger and fear as he focused his intense gaze on his little brother who was now worrying his lip.
“Where is she,” Joel stated more than questioned in his deep southern timbre, his voice thick with emotion. Anger, fear, anguish and dread were all suddenly clogging up his throat. He swallowed to keep it contained, needing to keep his head on straight right now.
“I don’t know brother,” Tommy responded, guilt and slight fear painted his features as he looked up at his older brother.
“The hell do you mean you don’t know?” Joel growled as he prowled closer to his brother who quickly stood from his slumped position. “I trusted you to watch her back, to keep her safe for me!” Joel couldn’t control himself, the emotions from the thought of losing you, of never seeing you again were too much to handle and he grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and shook him.
“The deal went bad! Me and Tess got separated from her!” Tommy quickly explained, his hands gripping onto Joel's shaking wrists. “We tried to find her but… shit man, things are more fucked up out there than ever. We were hoping she’d made it back here.”
Joel pushed his brother away from him, afraid he would start swinging. Rage and fear consumed him, tightening his heaving chest as he ran his hands through his greying hair. He quickly stalked over to his weapons stash beneath the floorboards while vile images of you being scared and hurt, being taken by sex traffickers and all manner of other atrocities he’d seen and heard about over all his years surviving in this hell were flooding his mind.
If it was the last thing he did, he’d find you himself and bring you home. The thought of never finding you was unspeakable and he quickly pushed that horrible scenario out of his mind. But then another took its ugly place as he quickly grabbed his go bag; what if he found you dead or dying?
Well that would be the end, wouldn’t it?
He paused before looking at his little brother, standing before him paler than he’d seen him in a long time. Exhaustion was dragging Tommy down and Joel knew that he and Tess had done the best they could to find you; they loved you too.
“I’ll find her and bring her back,” Joel stated.
“I’ll come with-”
“No… thank you, but no. You're exhausted, you’ll just slow me down. If I don’t come back… then I…,” Joel trailed off as he watched anguish and fear become apparent on his little brother's face.
“Joel. Don’t. Please, brother,” Tommy begged, already knowing where Joel’s head was at.
“I can’t…” Joel felt his voice break as tears flooded his vision, blurring the image of his baby brother walking towards him.
Next thing Joel knew, his brother's arms were around him and Joel let himself feel the rare embrace for just a moment. He and his brother had never been the most affectionate with each other even before the outbreak, so the fact his brother was hugging him so tightly told him Tommy knew exactly what you meant to him. How could he not, with how blatant the two of you were with your lovesick need for each other. You had become his whole world, a quick spiral into passionate need that seemed to drive the two of you from the very moment you became one when he took you on that dirty warehouse floor three years earlier.
His head dipped to Tommy’s shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and into his patchy beard, into that place where you always kissed him, as if that spot had been made just for you. A place to kiss and lick and nibble like you loved to do when you both were intimate, which was basically whenever you were in the same room as one another, everyone else be damned.
Would Joel ever feel that again? Had you both made all the memories together that you ever would? The last time he saw you flashed in his mind, replacing the ugly panicked images from before. You’d smiled up at him, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as you whispered your ‘see you laters’ - never ‘goodbyes’ - to each other, while Tess and Tommy looked on and rolled their eyes in annoyance at your overt pda.
The Joel of before had never been one for public displays of affection, to the point where one woman had broken things off with him because she’d said he was cold, that he didn’t care enough about her. He’d realised later on that she had probably been right. More conscious of how much affection he was giving in front of others than he should have been.
Now though, with you these last few years? Joel didn’t give a single fuck what people thought of how he held your hand, kissed you, sat you on his lap as he made deals with all kinds of people. He loved when you’d do the same, when you would kiss him in that spot that was surely made purely for your mouth while you rolled your hips against his hardening cock. The greedy eyes of lowlifes watching on in pure jealousy of how unashamed you were with showing everyone how wanton you could get for him. His precious little hell-raiser.
Shit, he’d fucked you outside before and hadn’t cared who’d heard. It had actually turned him on to know the residents had heard your desperate and lustful cries as you let him take you from behind in an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Anyone could’ve looked out and seen how Joel Miller got to have you be his, the most vicious beauty in all of Boston, submitting to him, belonging to him.
Joel quickly pulled away from Tommy before he got too emotional about how this day had turned into a fucking real life nightmare.
As he strode towards his apartment door with his go bag on his back and his weapons tucked away on his person, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and face. He couldn’t look back at Tommy so he roughly pulled open the door and walked out with a quickly uttered, “see you brother.”
While descending to street level Joel struggled to get his emotions under control. It had been a long time since he had cried, since he had felt this scared and helpless, but he pushed through and began to formulate a plan on how he would get out of the QZ through a smuggler tunnel they had created two years ago. Then he would find you so he could bring you home, safe and sound.
There was no other option he would let himself consider from here on out, he needed to focus on his current mission.
Joel steeled himself as he walked out of the apartment building and turned right to head to the closest smuggling route out of the QZ. As he looked up to assess his surroundings he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of you standing in front of him.
His eyes widened in shock as you stood before him, a shaky vulnerable look on your pretty as sin face. Joel choked on your name in disbelief and before he knew it his hands were grasping your cheeks and his lips were crushing against yours in a desperate kiss.
He pulled away from your tight embrace to quickly gasp, “What the hell happened, baby?” Before he kissed you again and again and again. So relieved to feel you alive and whole in his arms once more.
But then worry clouded his mind; the look on your face as you saw him notice you replayed in his mind.
Joel once again pulled away from the desperate kisses you both were sharing to truly look into your wide teary eyes.
“Are… are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Let me see you,” Joel pleaded in a vulnerable whisper. He reluctantly pulled further away so he could assess you until you spoke for the first time since your reunion.
“I’m okay Joel, baby. I’m okay I promise!” You gasped as Joel began to pull up your sleeves and the hem of your shirt to see your slightly bruised and cut skin, clearly searching for a fatal wound like a bite that he thankfully would not find.
“Joel!” You shouted to get his attention, uncaring of the passers-by on the busy street taking notice of your desperate interaction.
Joel stopped his searching as you placed your hands on his cheeks and gave a soft smile when you saw the fear in his eyes recede into a warm relieved look of love that always made your chest flutter in unbelievable happiness, like butterflies bursting with life within you. You had never expected to get to this point with anyone, let alone the cold standoffish brute Joel Miller who had barely seemed to tolerate you the first few weeks after your initial meeting.
To have this big, dangerous, sometimes scary but protective man look at you like you were his whole world was intoxicating. No wonder you could never keep your hands off of him.
It had started after the first time you’d fucked, and that’s all it had been meant to be. A desperate fuck after a near death experience, both of you alone and thankful to be alive. You had exchanged no words but a heady look and before you’d known what was happening he was kissing into your mouth before pinning you onto the hard dirty floor and fucking you silly.
You knew he’d been sleeping with Tess at the time, although it wasn’t serious, and you had slipped into Tommy’s bed once or twice, but for years you had respected Joel’s leadership and strength, and of course enjoyed admiring how handsome he really was, but you both had never been particularly close, until then.
After, you had both agreed it wouldn’t happen again. You reluctantly agreed with him even though your legs had felt like jelly after the best orgasms you’d ever been given, having never before been fucked like Joel Miller liked to fuck.
It happened again of course, the very next night when you took a chance and slipped into his room and cot. He hadn’t said a thing against it, only a cocky, “can’t get enough huh, hell-raiser?”
After you sucked him to full hardness he’d let you ride him as fast or slow as you wanted while he just watched you. In the wake of your first orgasm Joel had snapped and took control once more by putting you on your back and practically folding you in half. He’d fucked you so hard you’d screamed your pleasure, so loud you had only realised afterward that Tommy and Tess must have been 100% aware of what was happening. But you’d come so hard you’d squirted all over Joel and made a complete mess, but you had seen in Joel’s eyes how much he’d absolutely loved it.
There was no talk of it never happening again after that, only an acknowledgement that business came first. A few months into your arrangement he began cuddling you after sex, asking you not to leave his bed in the sweetest whisper against the back of your head. You had agreed, threading your fingers through his and nodding with a simple, “yes Joel.”
And you hadn’t left, you both barely let the other out of your lovesick sight as you basically moved in with him. Tess and Tommy quickly moved out so they didn’t have to listen to the both of you ‘fucking every goddamn day.’
“I’m fine baby, I promise. Okay?” You kissed Joel softly bringing you back to the present, his arms tightening around you.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if… fuck, I thought you were-” Joel was crushing you against him, lips brushing yours as he spoke. A tremble was in his voice, one you’ve come to know more over the years as he opened up to you about things from his past.
“I’m right here darlin’, right where I’m supposed to be,” you gently spoke while running your hands through his salt and pepper curls. The action always calmed him down.
“I love you so goddamn much, hell-raiser.” Joel smiled against your lips before kissing you again. You chuckled, feeling tears gather in your eyes at the silly pet name he’d given you after your first chaotic introduction years ago which involved you wielding a couple molotov cocktails. The first of many pet names he graced you with, but definitely your favourite.
“I love you too, big guy.”
Your back gently hit the apartment building as Joel increased the pressure of your kisses, a desperation taking over you both as the feeling of being reunited after a close call washed over you once again.
Joel hiked your leg up and ground his hardened cock against your rapidly soaking pussy making you gasp at the sting of pain the suddenness of your arousal wrought as it travelled deep into your rapidly warming core.
“Joel,” you panted into his mouth as he licked at your tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a growl of need you felt emanating from his belly which was pressed tight against yours.
“Fuck, need inside your tight little cunt right now, darlin’,” Joel rumbled before he hastily began to undo your jeans, his lips carving a wet path across your cheek and down your tilting neck. He bit you quick and hard there, marking you; claiming you. You gasped, your arousal seeping from your desperately empty channel and trickling into your panties as you tilted your hips against his rock hard cock.
Joel slipped his thick fingers into your wet slit making you moan into his mouth.
“Get a room,” you heard someone mutter as they walked past. Joel growled before pulling away to glare fiercely at the man who suddenly blanched before quickly scurrying away at the sight of Joel hovering over you with a murderous look in his eyes.
You giggled at the interaction, drawing his attention back to you, his eyes softening at your mischievous smirk.
“Take me to bed, big guy. Remind me who I belong to,” you murmured before biting your lower lip in anticipation as Joel's eyes turned blacker than the deepest cavern within the fathomless ocean.
He grabbed you by the back of the neck and began to steer you back into the apartment building and up the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your ass before a slap landed there making you squeak excitedly. “Hurry the fuck up, darlin’,” Joel growled with a squeeze to your right cheek making you skip up the stairs quicker, panties practically drenched now.
The next second he was pushing open your apartment door, throwing off his bag and flipping you around to face him so he could kiss you hungrily once more. His thick tongue probed every part of your mouth, overwhelming you. You whimpered, your hands caressing through his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.
His grip on your thighs suddenly let you know what he was about to do and you braced your hands on his broad shoulders as he quickly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You both groaned and panted into one another's mouth at the feel of being pressed together.
You stilled when you heard the clearing of a throat. Joel groaned in annoyance as your lips separated wetly.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said before covering a slight laugh with a cough, Joel glowered. “But I’m really glad you're okay, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.” You smiled, so glad to see him safe and sound too. You told him this and questioned where Tess was and he informed you that she was just fine also.
“I just wanted to say-” Tommy started to speak.
“Enough said,” Joel growled. “Talk later. We're busy, brother.” Joel raised his brows clearly unabashed at being caught in this position by his baby brother.
“Jeez, alright lover boy-” Tommy rolled his eyes.
“I swear to God Tommy if you don’t get the fuck out of here now I’ll-”
“Okay okay! We’ll catch up later, Christ.” Tommy shook his head but you could see he wasn’t truly annoyed by the relieved look on his face.
As Tommy made his way to the door, a smirk was painted on his handsome face. Joel just pierced him with a frustrated and grumpy glare, you couldn’t help but snort softly while still being held up in his strong arms.
“See you later Tommy, and tell Tess thanks as well when you see her,” you quickly uttered before you forgot all about Tess and Tommy in just a few seconds.
“Will do, sweetheart. See you later. You too, Romeo.” Tommy laughed before darting out the door as fast as he could once he’d heard Joel’s growl of annoyance.
“C’mon baby,” you murmured in his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth bringing his attention back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Need to feel your big cock inside me, I feel so empty.” You pouted playfully even though you could still feel some of the adrenaline and fear from your near miss swarming inside you.
You had very nearly not made it home to him and that thought made your heart jump and your hold on your lover tighten. You didn’t know if you could hold back on the avalanche of feeling you knew was headed your way.
“Poor baby,” Joel responded as he carried you to your bed and laid you down, his back not being able to hold you up for much longer, not if he was going to fuck you like you both needed after today. “Don’t you worry darlin’, I got you.”
Joel stood before you and began to remove the various weapons from his body, his dark intense gaze never leaving you as you began to writhe in need.
“Hurry Joel,” you whimpered, a desperation taking over now that you weren’t in his arms anymore. You felt tears gather in your eyes at just how lucky you were to be back here with him, safe and sound. You couldn’t hold back a hiccupping sob threatening to escape you.
Joel took notice and quickly hovered over you, one hand on your hip, the other palming your cheek and wiping a tear away. “You're okay now, baby. I got you.” He kissed your forehead and you could hear him inhale your scent as he did.
“Joel.” You murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. You needed to release these emotions, and Joel was the best at giving you just what you needed, what you both needed.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Joel murmured, his own gaze tear filled meeting yours before he pressed his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. You struggled to keep up with his kisses at first but then he was scraping his teeth down your jaw and sucking on your neck.
You bucked your hips up against him, his leg slipping between yours so you could grind on him. You whimpered, needing his bare skin to be slick against yours as you once again fitted together so perfectly.
You needed the intimacy and the vulnerability of being beneath his broad form as he fucked you deep and hard, imprinting himself within you forever.
As if Joel had read your mind, he pulled back from nuzzling between your breasts, his big strong hands grasped the collar of your shirt and ripped it down the middle in one go.
You gasped at the action, at the grimace of need on his face as he began to manhandle you in a desperate need to get you naked beneath him. You unhooked your bra as he roughly pulled down your jeans and panties in one go, snarling in annoyance when your boots hampered his mission.
As soon as you were bare Joel was back on the bed and spreading your legs up and wide so he could see your perfectly soaked little cunt fluttering needily around nothing. Fuckin’ Heaven right there, he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes up your heaving belly and chest to see you biting your lip, small hands fisting the sheets beneath you.
“Please Joel, want you naked against me,” you practically begged, pupils blown out, eyes still glistening. He knew from your reaction something had scared you, probably a moment of terror in thinking you weren’t going to make it back to him in one piece or at all. The idea of that being a very real possibility that could have happened shook him to his core and he quickly tore off his clothes, not wanting to be away from your touch for longer than necessary.
He began to kiss every scrape and bruise as he made his way up your chest. Soon his eyes were looking deep into your soft gaze, your arms and legs wrapping around him and he knew he was finally home. He brushed his nose along yours, both his hands tunnelling into your pretty hair as he gazed down at you.
“You and me, darlin’, that’s all I need. Just you, I fuckin’ love you, you drive me goddamn insane with it, you know that?” His gaze was soft but intense, his words rumbled out of his pouty lips.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your own hands rubbing his back soothingly before sliding up his neck and into his hair. “But I feel the same.”
“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time. Just scares the hell outta me,” he nearly choked on his words before burying his face into the sexy slope of your neck, inhaling your heavenly scent. “Can’t lose you, baby.”
“I’m right here, not losing me, Joel,” you responded softly before kissing his scarred temple.
Joel slowly lowered his hips as he lifted his head to kiss you, his weeping cock covering your pussy, soaking him even further. Normally Joel would prepare you, stretch you with his thick fingers and make you come on his tongue but from the way you were mewling and moving against him he knew you both needed to become one right now. Besides, you had told him plenty of times how you liked the slight pain his cock created when it stretched your little hole open, the girth of him too wide to fit comfortably at first.
You both angled your hips, well versed in the best way to slot together hands free. Your breath hitched when the crown of his twitching cock popped inside you.
“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me, baby girl.”
“Joel,” you whimpered against his lips before your hips pushed against him, sliding more of him within your aching heat.
He stared into your watery eyes as he gripped your hip with a bruising grasp and began to push into your tightness. He loved watching the way your mouth opened into a little ‘o’ shape and the space between your brows creased cutely in pain.
“Takin’ my cock so well, you precious little fuckin’ thing,” Joel growled as he bottomed out causing you to gasp. Your perfect cunt clenching around him was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Your breasts heaved against his chest as he let you adjust to the stretch of him for a moment. But he had little patience right now, so he soon pulled back making you whimper sweetly and he kissed into your mouth soothingly before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and held it tightly.
Pulling back from the kiss he quickly punched his hips down and forward, slamming deep inside you and causing your body to jolt from the force, his hands holding you steady. You weren’t going anywhere.
The squeak you let out was choked off when he did it again, and again. The soundtrack to your desperate love making became the wet slapping of skin on skin, the gasps of pleasure and the cries of pain as you melded together as one. Sweaty skin sliding against hardened nipples and harsh gasps were shared as he rhythmically pounded you into the mattress
“Joel, Joel, oh God Joel don’t stop!” you pleaded wide eyes staring up at his fervent expression as he gazed down at you.
“Fuck! That’s it baby, take my cock.” Joel grimaced in pleasure.
“Please, baby. Go faster!” You yelped as his hips smacked against you, his heavy balls soaked from your arousal.
He granted your plea, arching his back so he could suck on your tight nipples, hands grasping under and over your shoulders as he began to piston sharply within you, pulling you onto his thick cock.
“Yes yes yes, gonna come,” you suddenly gasped and Joel knew it was true by how your tight little pussy started fluttering around his shaft, sucking him deep.
“Come all over me, baby girl,” he whispered against your parted lips, sweat building between you as you both moved in sync, chasing that beautiful euphoria he always granted you.
You had been feeling it build within you so deeply, you knew you were about to crest that tremendous wave of pleasure you associated with Joel and how he always spoiled you rotten when you made love. It hit deep and sharp, making you arch your back and cry out against his lips as your pussy clutched so tightly to him, never wanting him to stop or leave your most vulnerable place that he always cherished.
It caught your breath as you ascended into ecstasy, all you could do was whimper against his plush lips as you came. His hips stuttered as you tightened, unable to keep up the pace at how tightly you were grasping at him. Nails scraping his back, legs spreading further, toes curling against his thick thighs.
“Good girl, baby,” he practically whimpered as you came around him. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, I love you,” Joel growled while he quickened his pace again, the ache in his lower back completely ignored. He sat up a bit, lifted your legs so they fell over the bend in his elbows before planting his hands on the bed.
You were practically folded in half, completely dazed from that intense orgasm as he manoeuvred you however he liked. You loved when he treated you like his precious little fuck doll.
“Oh my God, baby,” you gasped, just watching as his hulking form rose above you, his dark desperate eyes dragging from your own eyes to your bouncing breasts as he started pumping his cock into you once more. The generous crown of his cock repeatedly hit that amorous spot deep inside you that only Joel could locate.
His stare was fixated on where you were joined together as he continued to thrust, slowing a little to admire it. “Sweet little pussy is creaming all over my dick, fuck!” Joel couldn’t take his eyes away from it, your abused hole flushed with arousal and soaked with your mingling desire. “God damn, baby girl. You can really take some cock, huh?”
All you could do was whimper at the vision he made above you, greedy lustful stare focused on your needy hole stretched around the wide circumference of his wet cock pumping inside you. The broad expanse of his tanned slick shoulders, the strength of his hands as they wrapped his calloused fingers around your hips, angling them perfectly. He sat up, his knees bracketing your ass and you quickly pressed your hands up behind you knowing exactly what was coming. Your heart jumped in your chest, you loved to watch him above you like this; using you, loving you so deeply and harshly.
“Gonna cum so deep inside your cunt, baby girl. Never gonna be rid of me,” Joel growled before rolling his hips into you, knowingly hitting that special place inside you that usually had you squirting all over him.
He never forgot that moment you’d shared with one another. Only your second time together and he had given it to you so good it was probably one of his proudest moments, his ego getting a huge boost that had been well needed at the time.
You had been so shocked and loud, you’d practically screamed at the sensation, shivering so vulnerably beneath him afterward it had stuck deep inside his chest afterward. It had pushed him to coo to you softly at your little whimpers, telling you that you were okay, that you had been so sexy and beautiful for him.
His hips were rolling and thrusting into you making you moan and stare up at him in awe. This man was all fucking yours.
“Mine, Joel. You’re mine.”
“Yeah, baby. All yours, this cock is all yours. And who does this pussy belong to, hmm?” he questioned with a smirk as he stared down into your wide eyes as his hips picked up the pace, you continuing to reciprocate his movements like a well choreographed dance.
“Yours, my pussy’s all yours. No one else's, baby.”
“Good girl,” Joel praised before leaning over you, his pretty lips pressing into yours, widening your mouth and swiping his tongue against yours as your pussy flooded his cock and balls creating a slapping sound that made you whimper and blush.
“Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Ain’t ya, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Fuckin’ love you.”
“Love you too, now fill me up, baby. Please!” You gasped against him, your foreheads now pressed against one another, mouths sharing harsh breaths.
You braced against the headboard with one hand while moving the other to his curly hair desperately seeking purchase as your arousal grew once more. Core warming and tightening in an impending orgasm and when he shifted your position so he could press against your clit and urethra with his fingers your stomach jumped, knowing exactly what he wanted from you.
“Oh Joel,” you whined.
“Yeah baby, drench me please,” Joel encouraged and you began to flutter around the precise pumping of his twitching cock within your sensitive walls.
It hit you suddenly, your back arched with a quick scream of pleasure and the overstimulation that you associated with squirting. Joel groaned in pleasure as you burst with feeling.
“Atta fuckin’ girl, baby! That’s it, shit I’m gonna come,” Joel gasped as you soaked him, a vision beneath him, sweat slicked tits bouncing, mouth agape in a shout of intense pleasure and eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.
Joel's hips stuttered, his balls tightening even more as he felt his pleasure travel from deep within his core, up to the swollen tip of his cock. “Fuck, baby,” Joel whimpered into your neck as he began to spurt his come deep into your womb, hips stuttering and grinding against yours with the need to stuff you full of his cum.
“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered as you felt him empty himself within you. You nudged his head as he did, wanting to see his handsome face in pleasure. He lifted and looked down at you, cum still spilling, overflowing you and trickling down your ass. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up good. I want all your cum,” you whispered softly as you gazed up at him. His face was so vulnerable and needy in that moment you couldn’t help but clench around him once more.
His balls had emptied with each ejection of his cum inside you, hips finally stilling as his cock became oversensitized to the stimulation still happening.
“Easy, baby girl. Easy.” Joel chuckled as he fell against you, completely spent before kissing you so softly that your heart jumped. “You think I can go again at my age?”
“You think I can go again after that?” You giggled breathily, completely satisfied. The impending avalanche of emotions purged from you in pleasure by your lover.
“Yeah, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.” Joel rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, a small grin on his face, eyes as soft as chocolate ice-cream.
“Then you don’t doubt yourself either.”
“I know my limits and my back is shot, darlin',” Joel grumbled in annoyance, his softly grinning face turning so grumpily pouty you couldn’t help but melt, you loved that you got to see this side of him that he unveiled to no one else but you. He really was all yours.
“Oh, poor baby,” you whispered to him before nudging him to the side so he could rest flat on the mattress, his softened dick slipping out of you with a flood of his cum which tickled your still trembling thighs. You definitely planned on giving him another back massage as soon as you both got some sleep, he had fucked you so perfectly; hard and loving. He certainly deserved it. “Rest now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”
Joel sighed as he settled into the admittedly uncomfortable bed, but with you snuggling up against his chest he had no complaints.
“I don’t want you goin’ out there without me anymore, okay? Fuck the business, you’re more important.”
You looked up at him “As long as you don’t go out there without me either, we’re more important,” you agreed with a sigh of relief.
“Just you and me, darlin’. That’s all I need,” Joel assured you.
You snuggled deeper into his strong arms, a warm sense of safety and love blanketing your heart as his arms tightened and his lips kissed the top of your head with a mumbled, “Love you, hell-raiser.”
You kissed his chest before replying, “Love you too, big guy.”
A/N: Thank you to any of you who made it to the end of this, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to help this little story of mine find new readers💕😘
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#clare's stories#pedroslittlelady writes#tw: mention of suicidal thoughts#tlou fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller#joel miller x female reader#implied age gap#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller fluff#the last of us fanfiction
434 notes
·
View notes
Text
「 sugar cookies | fanfiction 」
wriothesley x gn!reader | fluff, modern!au | valentines fanfiction.
↳ additional tags. established relationship, potentially ooc wrio, a tiny bit suggestive? baking, not proofread as of right now !!
↳ happy valentines, loves !! ♡
data has been uploaded!
@soleillunne, @dumbificat, @lovingluxury, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe
the jade's guidelines | genshin masterlist | send an ask to join the jade's taglist! specify genshin, honkai or both
with the temperatures now starting to pick up in fontaine, WRIOTHESLEY is fully aware of what holiday is to come. how could he not be? the pink and red merchandise plastered in every shop window, cute cartoon hearts decorating usually ordinary packaging and of course the sweet - but suffocating - scent of roses the moment he enters a supermarket.
winter beginning to fade out only meant one thing... valentines day. as someone who works fairly remotely and only converses with prisoners on the daily of the city's local prison, wriothesley never had a reason to celebrate valentines day. in fact, he would sometimes be caught sneering at the obnoxious colour scheme every time february wrapped around. he'd even go as far as turning his head away, wishing for anything but the twenty-four hours to pass over.
that was until just under a year ago. under the peer pressure of a few friends - namely clorinde and navia, out of the goodness of their hearts, - he'd decided that maybe blind dating wasn't so bad. his tiring routine he'd burned into his mind was beginning to make his body and mind both ache equally as much and all he was starting to think about was a change in his life.
wriothesley was perfectly locked into his habit of waking up early, working at the prison, commuting home and going straight back to sleep but... where's the fun in that? and as navia had quite teasingly stated, he was starting to waste his life away as a workaholic.
that's where he met you, after all. someone who turned a blind eye to the awful schedule of his work rota and that growing collection of different teas he stashed in his kitchen cupboards. in turn, the growing collection was now tucked neatly in your shared kitchen cupboards instead.
now he had a reason to stare at the brightly coloured gifts and cheesy slogans, taking every single factor about you into consideration when it came to the smallest things about valentines; including the card, yes. it took wriothesley an hour and navia's quiet begging for him to choose a card for you, his first valentine. at least, the first one he'd ever cared to delve this far into valentines gifts for.
"you're hopeless," navia whines under her breath as the two exit the store, opening the iced coffee she'd purchased from the chilled section (and i quote, how else was she going to put up with him?), "i didn't think i'd ever see you take valentines this seriously."
her comment perks his attention from his phone, where'd he been texting none other than you whilst you was on your break at work. he makes a noise before chuckling, deep and hearty as he adjusts his tie awkwardly. there's a heat creeping his neck as he clears his throat, eyes darting anywhere but the fashionable blonde as she sips her aforementioned iced coffee with a smug smirk.
"yeah, well - i don't care," he retorts boldly and navia almost spits her coffee out, giggling behind her hand as she covers her lipgloss coated lips for some form of dignity, "sometimes i wonder why i'm still friends with you?"
"rude. anyways, i'm the reason your social circle is so big now. i'm glad i don't have to watch you work yourself to death anymore." navia sighs, shaking her head as the conversation takes a vulnerable turn for the both of them. wriothesley can't deny that despite how much they bicker from siblings, she's always cared for him with good intentions. there's a moment of him debating how clorinde bagged such a kind-hearted girl before he almost makes himself chuckle at the thought.
large calloused hands rummage in the reusable bag you'd shoved into his chest before you hurried out of the door for work this morning, mindlessly checking over all the gifts and ingredients he'd acquired with a slight break in his bank account. your boss had called you in for the morning, already throwing a spanner in the works of your valentines day preparations however they promised you'd be free before lunch - which meant the baking you'd been so excited for could still go ahead, according to plan.
later that day, in the midst of wriothesley fumbling around in the kitchen cupboards as if he was lost in his house, you arrived home. that shift had been less than ideal, adding onto your frustration of being called into work in the first place. yet the grin that etches onto your partner's stubbled face draws you from that frustration; it calms you, eases you into the comfort of his burly arms when you rest your head against his chest and forget your worries.
"work was that bad?" wriothesley's voice murmurs in your ear and you can barely stifle a nod, nuzzling against the warmth radiating through his clothes as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head.
"that bad," you mumble in response, sighing as you force yourself to pull away from your boyfriend's hypnotising hold before you fall asleep standing up, "time to bake out my anger - what recipe did you end choosing?"
"sugar cookies," wriothesley seems quite proud of his choice, a calloused hand gesturing towards the numerous multicoloured sprinkles he'd prepared on the kitchen counter - knowing him, that could be very well the only ingredients he brought, "you know, with that heart cookie cutter you begged for the other week?"
a playful scoff leaves your lips, a gentle hit of your hand against his shoulder as you brush past him, rolling your sleeves up to your elbows so that you can start the tedious process you'd signed yourself up for on this fateful valentines day. the soft hum of wriothesley reverberates around the kitchen of your shared home, sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window and basking in the potted plants you'd decorated the windowsill with.
your friends had been dubious about you moving in so soon with wriothesley but you knew only a few months in that you would trust this man with your life. despite his gruff, solemn demeanour, wriothesley was in your eyes perhaps more akin to a deflated puppy from all his years working in the prison, lacking social experience outside of the prisoners and co-workers he'd dip into conversation with daily.
strong arms wrap around your waist whilst you're busy measuring out ingredients, your eyes narrowed in focus as your gaze darts between the electronic weighing scales and the flour in your unsteady hands as wriothesley takes to wrapping himself like a koala around your body; he's inseparable from you, unable to stay away for mere moments as if you'll disappear if he doesn't have his rough hands somewhere on your soft body.
"i'm trying to focus..." you huff under your breath, biting your tongue as wriothesley rests his chin on your shoulder, watching your precision intently as the warmth of his breath tickles against your neck. it makes your hairs stand on end but not as much as the gentle kiss he presses to your exposed shoulder. you almost elbow him in the ribs for the minor distraction.
"i can see that," he chides with a grin, brushing his stubble against your skin and you really can't say no when a trail of kisses litters your skin from your shoulder to your collarbone and neck, "happy valentines day, darling."
"happy valentines day," you sigh softly, giving up on your endeavour to measure ingredients successfully under these circumstances. you place the opened bag of flour down, leaning back onto his chest in defeat, "i hope you choke on these sugar cookies later."
wriothesley chuckles, his thumbs rubbing rhythmic patterns on your hips where his hands are positioned, holding onto you tightly to stop some manic villain possibly ever stealing you; hey, it's possible! the man lets out a content exhale, appreciative of the warm comfort you give him outside of the gruelling job he'd thrown himself into for a living, "i love you, i really do."
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
#( sealed letters )#© thexianzhoujade#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin#wriothesley x reader#genshin wriothesley#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#wriothesley
227 notes
·
View notes
Text
the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad
summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?
a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.
⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.
Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.
There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.
It makes him sick to his stomach.
He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin stashed away in the depths of Hogwarts some years ago.
His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.
The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.
“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.
“Hello,” he says after a beat.
You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?
You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”
It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.
It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.
“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.
“Yes?”
“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”
He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”
He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.
“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.
Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.
A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.
What an evil, evil wolf he was.
#🎞 by.ivy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#hp imagine#tom riddle#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom marvolo riddle
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
Everybody knows Eddie has a way with nicknames. Everyone gets a pet name from Eddie to the point he basically never says anyone's real name.
And Steve gets an array of them. More than anyone else. Sweetheart. Sugarplum. Stevie. Multiple pet names all strung together in quick succession. Very rarely he's Harrington. That one is typically reserved for when Eddie is being a total bitch and they are fighting. King Steve, of course. He still doesn't love it, but at least now it is said with affection instead of sarcasm and contempt.
Meanwhile, Steve's over here simply calling his boyfriend Eds. Okay, maybe he said 'babe' one time in the presence of Lucas, Mike and Dustin and he's never heard the end of it.
It's kinda lame and he rather die than explain it to anyone (or have anyone else hear it), but Steve sees Eddie as his Prince. It's a pet name Eddie hasn't used, which is surprising considering there is a side DND character who is a Prince that bares embarrassingly detailed physical similarities to Steve.
Eddie is the Prince who came and swept him off his feet when he was at his loneliest.
Again, kinda lame. And pathetic.
Unfortunately, Steve blurts out said name in the least romantic setting possible: the back storeroom of Family Video.
They're in the back looking for the copy of Top Gun Steve had stashed away for them to take home. The waitlist was a month long and Keith enforced a strict 'no employees on the waitlist' policy, even though he definitely took a copy for himself.
"Holy shit," Eddie says, staring at the VHS cover of Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis.
Steve hands it over. "I reserved it under the fake account Rob and I have."
It was basically his only option considering Keith's flimsy rule and Eddie being banned from the store a few years back. Thank God they didn't have security cameras or else Steve would have been fired a hundred times over by now.
"Whoa," Eddie says with the wide-eyed wonder of a kid, holding the VHS in his hands like it is the most precious and delicate thing in the world.
"Anything for my Prince," Steve coos, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.
He pulls back, staring. Oh god. He really just said that out loud.
Eddie blinks, clearly taking a moment to compute (or willing to tear his eyes away from ogling the back cover image of Val Kilmer). He quirks a brow, turning to look at Steve, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and accentuated by the scar that runs along the left side of his jaw.
"So that makes you the damsel in distress?" he says more than asks, glee in his eyes.
Shit, Steve really hadn't thought of it that way. Trust him to come up with a pet name that immediately made him vulnerable to teasing.
Before he can think of what to say, Eddie is scooping him up bridal-style. He promptly loops his arms around Eddie's neck when he feels his legs teetering on the spot at the cramped and awkward angle, wedged between Keith's desk and a shelving unit.
"Don't worry, Princess!" Eddie declares in dramatic fashion. "The Prince is here to save you from your dungeon and that wretched oaf."
He laughs hysterically as he sways Steve about.
"Stop!" Steve laughs, kicking and sending a stack of VHSs toppling to the ground.
"I shan't!" Eddie yells, his voice echoing through the small space. "Not until I have you in the safety of my bed chambers!"
"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Steve giggles as Eddie swings him around, sending more tapes flying.
#i'm baaack with my silly steddie nonsense#it's been a time this past week fam so i've just been miserably lurking/reblogging the first thing on my dash#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#lilys ficlets#steddie ficlet#steddie headcanon#family video 📼
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Special Delivery - Wriothesley
Author Notes: It has been a journey in learning how to spell this man's name. This fic honestly just sort of happened. I didn't have a song I listened to while I wrote it and didn't really exactly have an idea either, outside of the fact that I've always though guys should get flowers just like girls. After all, flowers are pretty. I leave it up to you to decide what sort of flower was gifted here though. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Fluff/ Flirtation/ Teasing
Word Count: 1308
Just as it was with other nations, there were many, many different jobs and positions that one could hold in Fontaine.
But yours was very unique.
It wasn’t that you were anything nearly so grandiose as the receptionist to the revered Iudex or the widely-beloved Archon. And you also didn’t work for the Spina de Rosula or The Steambird.
No. You didn’t hold a position quite that illustrious. Instead, you were a delivery person.
You delivered ingredients, bandages, medicine, and, yes, even teas to the infamous Fortress of Meropide. After all, while such commodities were the norm of the Overworld, finding the same goods at the bottom of the sea was hardly possible. So you delivered them. Sometimes making two to three runs between the sunny upper side of Fontaine and the dark prison hidden in the depths.
Your delivery runs were always waited for with bated breath by the people within the massive prison complex. Especially when the denizens of the depths knew you were going to be bringing special commodities, such as books for Sigewinne sent from Monsieur Neuvillette himself.
You strolled through the metal hallways with purpose as you went to make your final delivery for the day, and no one looked twice as you marched right up to the warden’s office and went in with barely even a pause.
Most inmates had no clue as to what you might be delivering to the duke who guarded these halls. You almost always had to make a stop at his office, though, and most preferred not to think too hard about what might be in the box you were carrying.
But, despite their fears, you held nothing quite so terrifying as what they might suspect. In fact, the box you held against your hip always held the exact same thing. Namely, tea.
To be fair, he usually requested an assortment of varying teas, but the regularity of his orders was somewhat concerning, and it might be worth mentioning to Sigewinne as to whether excessive consumption of tea could be detrimental to his health.
You walked up the steps silently as you entered the well-appointed office that you were now quite used to. Though you did have to wonder where the man in question hid his doubtlessly impressive tea stash since all the shelves of his bookcases were filled with books.
“There you are,” Wriothesley’s pale eyes immediately lifted from where he’d been looking at a stack of papers so that he was looking up to where you’d appeared at the top of the staircase as he stood from behind his desk. Almost like he’d been waiting for you. Or rather, more than likely, his beloved tea.
He walked around the desk with a slight smile as he met you halfway and accepted the box from your arm before immediately sitting it down so that he might peer inside at its contents. And you waited patiently as his gaze scanned container after container of fine tea and tea blends, nodding approvingly at certain intervals before he at last looked your way once more, “Perfect as always.”
There was a subtly teasing lilt to his voice that had you smiling before you shifted and revealed what you’d been hiding behind your back with that hand that had not been occupied by tea.
“Special delivery,” You announced cheerily as Wriothesley’s gaze darted between the potted plant in your hand and you. His expression shifting amusingly from curiosity to confusion.
After a brief moment of silence, he sighed, almost as if surrendering, “Y/n, you’re gonna have to help me here. I’m not the most well-versed in the language of flowers, but is this some form of hate mail from the House of Hearth or something?”
You rolled your eyes before handing the fully bloomed flower to him, “No, Sigewinne’s been telling me about how you’ve been staying holed up in your office, and you’ve mentioned that you rarely get to see flowers since you’re usually stuck down here in the fortress. I bought this for you to try and brighten the place up,” You gestured widely to the room as you finished, still smiling at the man who continued to stare at you.
“So you bought this for me?” He clarified with raised eyebrows, causing you to nod in amusement before you saw the glimmer that entered his eyes at your wordless response. A small, childish part of you whispered that you never should’ve entertained the thought of buying him a gift, but you ignored such thoughts.
Instead, you focused on the man in front of you as you braced for whatever it was he was going to say next.
“Well, something coming as a gift from you certainly is a ‘special delivery,’ but I must say, you’ve done what most can’t. You’ve surprised me, Y/n.” He paused, eyeing you closely, before pressing a hand to his chest with a grin slipping onto his face, “I never expected you to try and woo me.”
Somehow, you weren’t even surprised by his words as you leaned relaxedly against his desk and sat the gift down, causing the flower to bob lightly. “And what makes you think that this is me wooing you?”
He leaned forward, that grin still on his face as he spoke once more, “Isn’t that what gifts of flowers usually mean?”
Unperturbed by his teasing, you tilted your head, “Weren’t you the one who just implied that this plant was flower-coded hate mail to start with? And flowers are common get-well-soon gifts anyway; they don’t necessarily have anything to do with romance or wooing.”
“But I’m not sick,” He was quick to point out his apparently good health almost immediately. Straightening with an almost smug grin that had you shaking your head slightly.
You smiled at him innocently, though, automatically reminding him of Siegwinne’s concerns regarding his habit of holing himself up in his office, “But Sigewinne is worried.”
He mimicked your motions, propping against the desk and half-caging you in with his body but still leaving your escape open, “Is this why you've been delivering such especially high-quality teas?”
You grinned slightly, despite yourself, at the man before you gestured lightly to the now abandoned box that sat on his desk next to him, “That’s the brand you always request, Lord Duke.”
His title slipped off your tongue easily, and you stared at each other silently. Wearing matching grins and similarly bright eyes as you each waited for the other one to make the next move.
After a moment, though, he shrugged and leaned back. Seemingly giving up even though that tell-tale glimmer still hadn’t left his eyes, “If you say so. I still find it suspicious, though.”
You held out his receipt for the delivery, watching as he took and signed it obediently before handing it back over. You accepted the slip of paper, having to actually tug it out of his hand as his gaze held yours with that persistently amused smile. But this was becoming a steadily more common set of interactions with you. A careful dance of teasing that he almost always slipped some form of flirtation into.
You were still smiling as you finally managed to free the paper from his grasp without it tearing and without having to grasp it with both hands and yank it out of his hand, “Duly noted.”
He snorted slightly at your words but didn’t respond, and with that you were on your way. Not stopping until you were outside of his office and being greeted by Sigewinne.
“Did he like the flower?” The Melusine’s eyes were wide with giddy curiosity, and you paused.
A smile flickered across your face as thought back to Wriotheseley’s amused grin, teasing tone, and glimmering eyes before you nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with yourself, “You know, I believe he did.”
#Genshin Impact imagines#Wriothesley x reader#Genshin Impact x reader#wriothesley#gender neutral reader#fluff#flitation#teasing#flowers#Fontaine#Fortress of Meropide#featuring Sigewinne#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x y/n#Genshin impact x you#Genshin Impact x y/n#fanfiction#mywritings#Genshin x reader#Genshin x y/n#Genshin x you#duke of meropide
377 notes
·
View notes
Note
parent teacher conferences are coming up and i'm praying a man like hiromi shows up and falls in love with me
hi, this was supposed to be a little daydream but I got carried away. this concept is full fanfic material. bless your beautiful mind, anon.
-
You've been talking with parents all afternoon, going over each student's progress, highlighting their strengths and weaknesses. You've argued a couple of times with some particularly opinionated parents who insist that their children aren't being challenged enough, or whose children are disruptive in class (contrary to what they say they're like at home). As you're scanning the list to make sure everyone scheduled has come, your eyes fall on one name in particular that never bothered to show.
The Higuruma kid.
You sigh, letting your shoulder slump forward in silent disappointment. She's a bright young girl- top of your class, reading at two grade levels above her peers, working through middle school math equations and making art that a college grad would envy. you knew her father to be the top defense attorney in the area, so it came as no surprise that he would have a child so brilliant. Tonight was an opportunity for you to tell her parents everything they probably already knew, but it would have been exciting nonetheless. you were sure you were almost as proud of her as they were.
The clock on the wall creeps past eight, so you start to tidy up. As you're filing away the last of the papers, your stomach calls for attention and you reach for a granola bar from your desk stash and cram half of it in your mouth just as you hear a breathless voice at your door.
"Am I too late?"
You look up, cheeks full of oats and honey, and your eyes go wide at the tall, lanky figure nearly falling over himself as he enters your classroom. His dark hair looks like at some point today it might have been meticulously styled, but now it's disheveled as he runs a hand through it, his deep brown eyes offering you some kind of silent plea for just a minute of your time. He's wearing a well-made suit that somehow looks too big and too small at the same time, tie loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.
"Hiromi Higuruma," he offers, stepping forward to offer a hand. When you accept, his fingers are cool and a little damp, but his grip is strong and confident. Your eyes light up, and you muster a tired smile after swallowing the rest of your snack.
"Ah, Mr. Higuruma! I thought maybe you'd forgotten about our meeting."
"I'm sorry. I– work. It's always work," he says, and you realize that he's had to excuse himself probably dozens of time for his erratic schedule. "I usually ask my wife to come to these things, but she's got her own thing going on these days. Uh. Ex-wife, I mean." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks go pink. "Divorce is still fresh. Haven't really gotten accustomed to that yet. Sorry. Sorry, I ah..." He trails off, leaving you to pick up and change the subject.
You wave him over to have a seat at your desk. "It's alright, you don't have to explain. I'm just glad you made it. I wanted to sing your daughter's praises, because she really is doing a wonderful job."
He positively beams at you, leaning forward, hanging onto each and every word you say, nodding along as you detail all of her achievements. His gaze is intense, his eyes locked on your face so completely that it makes you feel a little hot under the collar. When you look up to meet his eyes, emphasizing key points of his daughter's progress, you have to pause and swallow around the dryness in your throat before continuing.
"So, um, as you probably already know, she's gifted. Extremely so. I'd like to place her in our accelerated seminar. It will give her, ah–" you clear your throat, watching the way his lips curve into a genuine smile, how his eyes seem to shimmer with tears. "Uhm, give her a chance to really grow and thrive with other students like her."
You take the last few minutes to explain the process- there will be further testing, then placement based on her cognitive function, though you know she'll score high in all the areas. When Higuruma signs the consent forms, you watch the strong, confident stroke of his hand as he weilds the pen (left-handed, you observe), his long, agile fingers, the way his suitcoat rides up past his wrist in a disheveled, endearing way. You wonder if his ex-wife ever paid attention to the fact that his clothes were ill fitting, or that the bags under his eyes were as dark as his hair.
"Thank you, Mrs, uh–"
"Miss, actually." Oh God, your face is hot. You give him your name, and he nods, pressing a finger to his temple.
"Right. I'll remember that." He digs around in his breast pocket and produces a business card. Sleek, simple, elegant, with just his name, email address, and phone number. At the corner is a tiny graphic of the scales of justice. He reaches for the pen and flips the card over to scrawl another number on the reverse side of the card before sliding it across the desk to you.
You pick it up, and he must pick up on your puzzled expression because he chuckles, rubbing the side of his neck. "If you need anything else, please call. And... thank you. For taking such an active interest in my daughter. It means...more than you might know."
"It's my job, Mr. Higuruma."
"Please, call me Hiromi." Call me, he thinks.
You nod. "Hiromi."
295 notes
·
View notes
Text
when raider met sweet pea
1k words | analysis of raider!Joel x f!reader
Raider Joel Master List
This is a peek inside early, unevolved raider joel in the original fic from March. We know how much he’s grown since then, but he’s done terrible, inexcusable things, and he knows it.
NOTES: You're referred to as sweet pea in this, Joel's pet name for you. General HC followed by Q&A. Thank you @milla-frenchy for always having good Qs. I have great Qs from others too that I'll get to as I can (looking at u @javier-penas-wifexx420, and others). To raider's pr team, sorry for going back in time but FIWB.
WARNINGS: References to noncon, assault.
Here’s how I HC what happened under the surface: When Joel interrupted the men from taking sweet pea, it wasn't a noble rescue mission. Mainly, he was fed up with the men and wanted to put them in their place. But then, one of the men used the butt of his rifle under her chin to make her look up, and this is what unlocked or triggered something in Joel: She looked at Joel thinking he was saving her, and something in her face had a subconscious effect on him -- like he saw her hope and appreciation, and saw someone looking at him like he was a good man who mattered to them. It made him feel needed, which he hadn’t felt for so long that he didn’t even recognize the feeling, or know how to feel it, much less what to do with it.
That moment created the tiniest crack, a minuscule window into the man buried under the persona built by trauma and the apocalypse. The crack was too tiny to change his behavior yet, but that tiny window allowed him to see a glimmer of something else possible and allowed him to subconsciously connect with her in a way he hadn't connected in ages. From his raider persona, everyone is pretty 2D, so consciously, he's not seeing or treating her (or anyone) as a real person at this point. But that moment still resulted in a “spark,” like a magnetism, and the crack in his shell grows over time.
When he takes her inside: it was likely unusual that he took her somewhere private. Normally, he does things in front of the other men to show dominance (see Stash House). Subconsciously, that tiny part of him wanted to feel like a protector, and taking her somewhere private may have been his pathetic idea of a protective gesture, physically picking her up and taking her away from the worse (more violent) guys.
He takes her to the room intending for her to suck his dick by default, but I don't think P in V was always his intent: He doesn't threaten or mention fucking her upfront when he’s telling her what’s going to happen. He tells her she's gonna suck his dick and to be a good girl and it'll be over quick. While she sucks him, he decides he has to have her (be inside her). He says "alright sweet pea, now pull down your pants for me." He was acting on his primitive urges and what his body wanted in that moment for whatever reason -- he's a raider and has a huge sense of entitlement. Even though his escalation wasn’t out of malice, the effect is that he made the attack worse. He’s a bad person and a r*pist, and he knows it.
(Note, I’m only censoring this word because other people censor it and I sense some people find it jolting to see even if they read noncon. I'm not censoring it to try to make him look better. His past is a part of him, there's no getting around the fact that he's a r*pist. He's the last person who would want it forgiven or excused. He kinda hates himself ).
Q: I've been wondering if he could have done to other women what he did to sweet pea in the 1st chapter
He did at least make other women suck his dick in the past. As for how he sees his past behavior now, it'll come out eventually, not like an OOC monologue, like a word in passing or implied here or there.
Q: I think you wrote somewhere that Joel didn't approve of the behavior of some of his men with women, and that Carter wasn't like that (was I dreaming?)
The men who had sweet pea at the beginning of ch 1 are more physically aggressive and violent with women, physically forcing them and hurting them, whereas Joel calmly told sweet pea what to do (while he was heavily armed) and didn’t physically hurt her. The other men will smack them around and gang rape them. Joel feels like that behavior from men is weak, like if you're going to physically hurt someone, pick on someone your own size. He doesn’t feel moral superiority for this (I mean he doesn't see himself as a good guy), but he sees himself as stronger and more dominant than men who need to hurt a weaker person.
Q: Why is he so possessive and jealous, since day 1? In failed rescue : "He describes you. Joel’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken. He waits a beat before answering." I love that 😏 but it's super fast. Did she trigger something in him from day one?
When he initially decided she's his so quickly, most importantly, he means she's not anyone else's. He's in charge, he's claimed her, he's dominant, and he's the boss. That was his original intent and he didn't expect it to go further than that. But it goes beyond that because of the moment explained above. So it's also his primitive instinct that she's his, and that’s what you see when her bf describes her in your quote. Whatever connection or feeling was created by the way she looked at Joel made her special, and he couldn't let go of it. So she became like a precious possession at that point. Since then, he’s slowly evolved to where she’s not just a possession, but certainly still his.
—
Thank you so much for reading. I really adore everyone's interest and investment in raider!Joel. If you love raider joel, please interact with his fics -- it's always better late than never. Comments mean a lot no matter how small, and reblogs mean a lot regardless of blog size. I know most of raider's fans started as lurkers, and I don't judge for your lurking era. Most of my tumblr bffs started as lurkers.
Ik the tense is all over the place in this sorry lol
TY ILY 🖤🖤🖤
#raider!analysis#raider!joel#raider!joel miller#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tw noncon#cw noncon#toxicanonymity ☠️
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cherry Bomb | Eddie Munson x Reader
This man is taking over my life and I can’t stop it- RIP to all my other WIPs. Thanks to Kitten for enabling me as always💕
Summary: College is becoming far too stressful and you just need to find a way to relax- luckily for you the local dealer has the perfect solution.
Warnings: 18+, PWP, mentions of underage drugs, weed, shotgunning, dry humping, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation (Eddie cums in his pants), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, praise praise praise, Eddie talks too much during sex, panty theft. Spoiler free!
Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader.
Word Count: 6.5k.
For as long as you could remember, you always seemed to struggle the closer it got to the end of a school year. College was getting harder to manage in between deadlines, your part-time job, sleep and attempting some sense of normality by seeing your friends. The harder you seemed to work to clear off the coursework you had due, the more that seemed to funnel in right behind it, and truly you felt as though you were sinking. The bags beneath your eyes now evidence that the time you should’ve been sleeping was now spent lying awake thinking about how fucked you truly were for the end of the school year. And the more you thought about it, the more you began to panic.
You just needed to relax, and this seemed like the perfect solution.
You’d met Eddie Munsen in the hall before your afternoon class together, surprised that he’d actually managed to be punctual for the lecture instead of strolling in twenty minutes late like usual. Ignoring the perplexed look on his face that you’d called his name before class as he broke into a wide grin.
“Hey,” You tried to ignore how your name sounded coming from his lips, his eyes looking you up and down.
Never once had you even given Eddie Munsen a second glance, the pair of you running in completely different social circles. Sure you saw him around the campus frequently, and you shared two classes together but that was the extent of your relationship. Your friends had bought drugs from him on a couple of occasions when their usual dealers fell through, so at least you knew the gear would be safe for the most part- not that you had the first idea about what you were doing.
“I was wondering if I could get a hookup?” You cringed at how weird you probably sounded with your attempt at sounding knowledgeable. Is that what you called it when you were buying drugs from a dealer?
“A hookup?” He grinned, raising a brow at you.
That probably sounded like you wanted sex from him, ugh. Why did you sound so pathetic?
“Uh- like a deal? Gear?” You were certainly digging yourself a hole as the smile on Eddie’s face fell.
“Is this a joke?” He looked uneasy as he leaned towards you, his head turning to scan the hallway to see if anyone was lingering nearby.
“What do you mean?” You were perplexed- he probably did at least five deals a day, some of those people surely lacked experience too- why was this any different?
“Don’t think I don’t know how this works, sweetheart.” He scoffed, “Arranging a deal with a pretty girl, get to the meeting point and her boyfriend and his friends jump me and steal my stash?”
“No-” You replied a bit too loudly, looking around to see if anyone had directed their attention to you, “That’s not what this is.”
“I can give you the contact of another guy if you want, I-”
The thought of going to another dealer, one you didn’t know, scared you more than this one. It was one thing going to the local metalhead for a pickup, but a random stranger? In a strange location? There’s no way you’d do something like that, no matter how desperate you were.
“Please, Eddie.” You cut him off pleadingly, “I need it.”
He seemed to ponder the answer, shifting his feet as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Shit,” He murmured beneath his breath, a husky rasp to it before he straightened his back, “You know I can’t disappoint a fair maiden.” He grinned, giving an elaborate flick of his wrist, “So what was it you were looking for?”
“I—” You took a deep breath. You really didn’t have the first idea about drugs, and you definitely didn’t want to sound stupid. He already seemed like he didn’t believe that you wanted to buy anything from him as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and began to sway slightly, “I just want something to take the edge off.”
“Well, there’s a lot of shit that can do that, sweetheart.” He gave you a charming smile, “But what I’m saying is you could take a trip to bag end if you wanted something like that-”
“Bag end?” Your nose scrunched in confusion as you stared up at him.
“Oh come on, Lord of the Rings?” You’d heard of it, even thought about checking it out at the library but you certainly hadn’t read it, “Grab a few drinks at a bar, bottle of whisky at the liquor store?”
“I was kinda hoping for something else.” You murmured.
“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Well then, sweetheart. I’ll see what I can do.” He winked at you, “Meet me after your final lecture in the woods by the back of the building, picnic table in the middle. Can’t miss it.”
He gave you a toothy grin as you thanked him, making your way into the classroom as he followed behind, sliding into his seat a few rows back from yours. But the entire rest of the class was spent with his eyes on you, you could feel them burning as you tried to focus on the lesson. The words from the teacher in one ear and out the other as you began to think about all the deadlines that you had coming up, and how unprepared you were. The fear and panic began to set in once more as the pit in your stomach grew, you just needed to take the edge off.
The irony is that this illicit drug deal was doing the opposite of helping you relax, instead completely exasperating your anxiety. Checking your watch even though you knew only a few minutes had passed as you waited for the end of the day. Your heart racing and there were still two hours left of your class, ignoring the lecture as you began to doodle mindlessly in the column of your lined notepad. Willing time to move faster so you could get this over and done with, grab the goods and get home.
“Hi?” You walked up to the picnic table to find Eddie sitting on one side with his lunch box, his thigh bouncing as he waited for you.
His frown immediately turned into a smile when he spotted you, beckoning you closer as he offered you a seat.
“Hey, you made it.” He exclaimed as though he hadn’t expected you to actually show up, “Find it alright?”
“Yeah,” Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you sat down opposite Eddie, sitting your bag on the bench beside you as you clasped your hands together nervously.
“So what’ll it be?” Eddie grinned as he opened his lunchbox, rifling inside it, “I’m all out of oxys but I dunno if you want a ben-”
“Just marijuana.” You cringed internally at the sound of your voice, you couldn’t have sounded more uncool if you tried, “Maybe? I don’t know.”
“First time?” Eddie grinned, rubbing his palms on his jean-clad thighs as he grinned across the table at you.
You swallowed thickly at the implication of his words.
“Uh- what gave it away?” You smiled.
“Just a feeling, but honestly?” He dragged out the but, tilting his head slightly, “I’d be heartbroken someone as pretty as you had a different dealer.”
You felt flush from the compliment, a heat rising inside you as Eddie leaned a forearm on the table, his brown eyes staring directly at you.
“I can give you a good deal on this since it's your first time and I’m a sucker for a pretty face.” He grinned.
“Uh- okay. Thanks,” You watched as he pulled a bag out of the box, closing it after.
“This is good shit, I promise. Probably more than enough to last you, and for you pretty girl? Fifteen bucks.”
“Sure,” You began fussing with your bag to try and find your purse to distract yourself from the embarrassment of the situation as Eddie watched with a smile.
“Have you got papers?”
“Papers?” You turned your face to look up at him in confusion, you had plenty of papers in your bag from various classes. But that couldn’t be what he meant, could it?
“Yeah, papers sweetheart. Rollies?” He shook the baggie for emphasis as he smiled at you, “Unless you were plannin’ on baking a cake?”
“Oh- oh, no.” You shook your head, “I don’t have papers.”
This was becoming too much, far too embarrassing as you felt like a complete idiot in front of Eddie Munson.
“Don’t worry, I came prepared.” He grinned. Patting his leather jacket down as he pulled out a pack of rolling papers, flicking it open to pull a thin sheet out as he lay it flat on the picnic table.
Trying to ignore the thought of how dirty the surface probably was as Eddie grabbed the baggie and opened it up to pull some of the weed out, dropping it onto the paper as he let his fingers slowly pull it apart to reach each end.
You watched the way his ringed fingers moved swiftly, obviously movements perfected from experience as his thumbs flicked up the length of the paper. Lifting it from the table as he rolled your joint, his tongue poking out from between his pink lips as he concentrated on rolling the joint without losing any product out of either side of it. Something that had your heart hammering against your ribcage as you stopped watching him work and instead began to shamelessly stare at him.
Eddie Munson really was quite pretty, there was no denying it. Kind eyes that always seemed to find yours whenever he’d stumble into class late, walking by your desk to take a seat at the back of the room as the lecture continued. He’d been so proud to be the first of his family to go to college, something that was often overshadowed by the small-minded people in Hawkins that still saw him as a freak. His bold personality built up to mask the insecurities that ebbed away at him, not that he should have anything to be insecure about.
But there was only so far the bravado would take him before he was completely out of his depth, especially with you. Watching as you leaned forward across the table to lick the rollie he was still holding in his hands. Your pretty pink tongue slips out from between those glossy lips as you let the tip run along the top of the paper, brushing against the tips of his fingers as you wet it just enough to stick.
Eddie swallowed thickly as he watched the way your lips moved against the rollie, the sensation of your tongue against his fingers lingering as he began to roll the joint between his fingers to secure the paper. Trying to ignore the tightness building in his pants as he took a deep breath, the more he stared at you the more he found himself becoming delirious. There was no way, no fucking way a girl like you would ever like him. Trying to calm his raging boner as he held the stick up in a ‘tada’ fashion, giving you a toothy grin as he held it out to you.
“And there she is.” You shuddered when his fingers brushed against yours as he handed you the joint, “See, it’s not that hard, I mean I can do it so-”
He laughed at his self-deprecating joke as you looked down at the stick, feeling it between your fingers before you held it up to your lips.
“Can I try it now?”
“Uh, sure. But are you gonna be alright gettin’ home?-”
“I’ll be fine.” Truthfully you had absolutely no idea if you’d be able to get home high, you had no indications of what the drug might do to you, but you were so eager to finally let off some steam and relax that you didn’t want to wait any longer.
Pouting your lips as you placed the stick between them Eddie pulled a worn silver zippo from his jacket pocket. Leaning forward slightly as he thumbed the light, a small flame appeared as he used the other to cup around the joint, protecting it from the cool evening breeze as he lit it for you. You took a long, hard inhale and immediately started coughing as you pulled it away from your lips. Eddie was quick to grab it from you to prevent it from dropping to the leafy ground as you tried to ignore the burning in your lungs from the sharp inhale of smoke.
“You good, sweetheart?”
You nodded, thick tears clinging to your lashes as the coughing finally subsided, embarrassed that you already looked like such an amateur and proceeded to do that with your first toke.
“Believe it or not, I was like that my first time too, granted I was fourteen.” He grinned, “You just gotta take it slow at first, you’ll get used to it.” He spoke with the stick hanging out the side of his lips, but Eddie was certain he could taste the faintest taste of cherry.
Grabbing the joint between his thumb and index finger as he pulled it from his lips, and that’s when he saw it.
The white bottom of the stick was now a crimson hue, glitter from your gloss sparkling beneath the light as he tilted it. Gnawing at his gums to stop himself from groaning at the sight, his thoughts immediately raced to how that same lipgloss ring would look on other parts of his body. Eddie felt like he’d kissed you, tasted you. The artificial sweetness was still on his taste buds as he held the stick up to his lips to take another toke, inhaling deeper this time as he held the smoke inside his mouth for a moment. His semi-hard cock throbbed beneath his jeans as he stared directly at you, depraved thoughts running through his mind. He felt like such a creep but he couldn’t help it, just the thought of your lips wrapped around his cock, leaving those same pretty marks had him feral.
“Let me try again,” You murmured, leaning forward to take the joint out of his hands as your fingers brushed his, placing it between your lips. Taking a smaller hit this time, you felt the smoke slowly enter your lungs as you exhaled.
“There you go, you got it.” Eddie smiled, accepting the joint back from you as he took another hit, inhaling deeply as the smoke began to leave through his nose, “So?”
“S’good.” You slurred, hazy eyes letting the smoke finally settle you. Already feeling more serene, or maybe it was the company? You felt so comfortable around Eddie, his friendly personality helped relax you despite the sheer number of times you’d embarrassed yourself in front of him today.
“Want some more, angel?”
The pet name had you swooning, leaning forward to grab the joint from Eddie but he moved the stick away from your reach. Placing it back between his lips with a glint in his eye as he took a large toke, his lips curled in a lopsided smile as he placed his forearms back on the picnic table, sitting up off the bench to bring his face close to yours. Capturing your chin between his finger and thumb as he gently prised your mouth open, slowly parting his lips as he let the smoke seep out and into your mouth.
Goosebumps began to appear against your skin as he held you like you were the most delicate porcelain, but his actions were anything but. A salacious undertone as he watched intently through half-lidded eyes as you inhaled the smoke he’d breathed into you.
“Holy shit,” He watched the way your tongue slipped out to swipe at your lips, thick lashes fluttering as wisps of smoke began to swirl towards the sky. Shocked that you’d allowed him to do something so lecherous. The ache between his thighs only amplified from your reaction, committing the sight to memory as he was certain that if nothing else he’d have some perfect material to jack off to when this was over.
You really thought Eddie was going to kiss you, the anticipation building inside you as you imagined his lips against your own. Your gaze flickered down to them as you noted how soft they appeared to be, nothing like you would’ve imagined- but if only you could prove your theory.
“You’re pure sin, sweetheart.” He whispers as his warm breath fans against your skin, his lips dangerously close to yours now as you watch the smoke slowly drift from his nostrils and disappear into the evening air, “Downright deadly.”
“Me?” You hum innocently, watching his eyes drift down to your cherry lips and back to your half-lidded eyes.
“Yeah, you.” He grinned, “Always walkin’ round in those cute little dresses lookin’ all pretty. How can anyone not see how pretty you are? I mean it- shot through the heart.”
Eddie’s certain he can smell your lipgloss now, the fruity scent overpowering as it mixes with your perfume. A smell he now wants all over him as his cock throbs in his jeans, the denim tightening around the crotch as he spreads his thighs in a feeble attempt to try and give him some sweet relief.
“You think I’m pretty?” You smiled, feeling that familiar tingle beginning to flutter inside you.
“Are you kiddin’? I may be stupid, but I’m not blind.” He scoffed, “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”
He was close enough for you to smell him now, a mixture of cheap cologne, engine oil and cigarette smoke. It mixed with the scent of weed and made you woozy. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, a look of complete adoration.
You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your cheeks, leaning forward to close the gap and press a soft kiss to his lips. The moment you tried to pull away Eddie was already back on you, closing the gap as he pulled you back into a deeper kiss, your eyes immediately closing as you fell into him.
Your hand reached up to cup his jaw as you feel the day-old stubble against his cheek, the desperation in him evident as his nose clashes with yours as he tilts his head to make more room. His tongue swipes against your glossed lips as he tastes the artificial cherry flavour of your gloss, a large palm reaching up to the base of your skull to hold you in place as he commits this to memory, so even if you were to pull away a second later he can say with conviction that he was the lucky son of a bitch that got to kiss you.
The kiss had your mind going hazy, or maybe it was the drugs, as your lips parted to deepen it, Eddie lifting himself off his side of the bench as he hovered over you, his tongue delving deeper as he explored the new territory. Mimicking his movements, your tongue swipes against his teeth as you capture the low groan that leaves his lips, rubbing your legs together to try and satiate the throb between your thighs.
“Fuck,” You gasped when he reluctantly broke the kiss for air, a subtle sheen of glittery gloss now stained his pale skin as you smiled up at him.
“Fuck,” He repeated with a grin, his tongue shamelessly coming out to lick his lips as he tasted you on them, “God, you’re so fucking pretty. You know that right? Did I say that already?”
“You did,” You smiled, “But I like hearing you say it.”
“Oh yeah?” He matched your smile, “Then I guess I should say it more, huh?”
Eddie put out the end of the joint against the flat metal of the table, not wanting to waste any more of the drug as he left it on the surface. Taking one of your hands in his as he beckoned you closer.
You stood from the bench as you came around the table to his side, Eddie already swinging a thigh over to stand beside you as his hands immediately moved to your hips. The hard metal of his rings dug into your sides as he held you tight, your clit throbbing at the sensation as your arms reached around his shoulders to bring him down into another sultry kiss, this time it was far more desperate, more intense. As though you’d both been separated for far too long as you felt his tongue immediately searching for yours, your chest pressed against his and you were certain he could probably feel your heart beating against your ribcage. Now uncertain whether this was an effect of intoxication, or whether it was all Eddie Munson– and if it was you were addicted.
You rolled your hips against him as he groaned into the kiss, the feeling of his bulge pressed against you had a fire burning inside you. Everything felt hot. Grinding yourself against him again as you craved more of those sweet sounds spilling from Eddie’s lips.
“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He spoke through kisses, emphasising each word.
Eddie walked you back until your thighs hit the cool edge of the picnic table, his hands reaching beneath your legs to help you onto the surface. Instantly slotting himself between your parted thighs without breaking the kiss, the skirt of your pretty summer dress riding up much like it had in class as he shamelessly stroked along the exposed skin. Feeling your calves wrapping around his legs to keep him pressed against you, his covered crotch now grinding against your own as you whined into the kiss.
He reluctantly broke away from you, pupils blown, as he stared down at your face. Pushing his hips forward again to press his hard bulge against your clothed cunt, making you cry out for him again as he cherished the sound. A sound that should be reserved for angels sitting and waiting at those pearly gates, not mere mortals like him down on earth. His lips began to map a path along your jawline, leaving searing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck as you felt his teeth graze your pulse point.
Gasping as you bucked your hips against his, feeling his hardness pressing between your thighs as you ran a hand down his chest, along the picture of his Hellfire Club shirt to press against his abdomen, moving to cup his bulge but Eddie was quick to catch your wrist in his palm.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” He mumbled.
“Why?” You pouted, your fingers now tracing a path along his inner thighs, nails scratching against the denim as his chest tightened in anticipation the closer you got to his crotch.
“Cause-” He caught your wandering hands again, both his palms wrapped around both your wrists as he held you back from his bulge, “You just tried weed for the first time. It affects everyone differently and I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret.”
“Why would I regret it?” You tilted your head in confusion.
“Fuck- don’t do that, sweetheart.” He groaned, “You look way too fuckin’ cute.” He muttered, more to himself than anything as he moved a hand up to pinch the space between his eyes.
“Eddie, why would I regret it?”
Fuck, and there you went saying his name like that. You sounded so adorable, his cock was throbbing between his thighs. Screaming at him for being so foolish to not worshipping you already, but he couldn’t. Not like this-
“Well, I can think of a few reasons.” He trailed off.
“I won’t regret it,” You reached out to palm his crotch, feeling how hard he was beneath the rough denim. Inquisitive fingers squeezed around his girth as a crude groan rumbled from deep in his chest, every single second he spent in your presence had more of his willpower crumbling away.
“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman right now, angel.” He whispered but made no effort to move your hand from his crotch as he leaned forward to press himself into your touch.
“But what if I don’t want you to be a gentleman, Eddie?” You pouted, your fingers trying to press against his balls as he felt any resolve he had disappear into nothing.
“You had to go and say my name like that, didn’t you?” He groaned, “Fuck, you little minx.”
There was a deep snarl to his voice before he moved forwards, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. His crotch pressed against your clothed slit as your whines were silenced by his mouth. Hands palmed your thighs as his fingers dipped into the plush skin, holding you tight before they slid under the curve of your knees, pulling your ass until it was sitting right at the edge of the table. You gasped as you wrapped your thighs around his slender waist, squeezing tight for stability as you felt his bulge give your clit the friction it coveted. Your hands carded through his messy curls as you held him against you, preventing him from moving away as his tongue lashed against yours. Eddie’s hands became bolder the more you eased into his touch, sliding up your thighs and towards the curve of your ass as he squeezed the soft skin roughly.
The denim of his jeans created delicious friction as you leaned into the sensation, dragging the soft cotton of your panties against your puffy clit as you let out a salacious whine. Thankful that the woods were desolate so no one could hear just how desperate and needy you sounded dry humping Eddie Munsen, embarrassed just how much of an effect he’d had without even touching you.
“Eddie-” You gasped when his hips jerked forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he sucked in air through his teeth. Eyes clenched shut as he tried to calm his overstimulated body down, trying his best to stave off his impending climax, but this- you, felt too good.
“Wait- I- shit,” Eddie continued to mumble as you kept him pinned against you with your thighs, his ringed fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you ground yourself against his crotch, “Jesus H Christ.”
You were shameless now, bruised lips parted in a constant moan as you tightened your grip on his shoulders, using him for leverage as you chased your own release. Feeling the coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you focused on the throb of pleasure between your thighs.
“Fuck, Eddie. ‘m gonna cum.” You gasped, shamelessly using him for your own pleasure as your hands moved to his shoulders to get a better grip as you sought your release.
“Shit, you gonna cum sweetheart?” He groaned, moving his head back slightly to get the perfect view of your face, “Gonna show me how pretty you look when you’re creamin’ your cute little panties for me?”
“I- oh, fuck.”
“Holy shit,” He choked back a groan as his hips began to stutter, erratically knocking into you as it only served to preserve your climax. Knocking against your clit as he let his forehead drop to your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he felt pleasure overtake his body.
“Holy shit,” He groaned, his grip on your ass bruising as he tried to calm his body down. A wetness now seeping through his boxers and against the rough denim of his jeans, making the fabric stick to his crotch uncomfortably as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your collarbone as you leaned back slightly.
“For what?”
“Uh, man down.” He gave you a cute smile as he pulled his face from your neck. His cheeks tinged a light pink colour as he tried to avoid your gaze, “I swear I can normally go way longer- but you just looked so pretty and felt so good I-”
“Eddie,” You laughed, cutting him off with a sweet kiss on his lips, “I don’t mind. The fact that I made you do that? It’s so hot.”
“Yeah?” He gave you a small smile.
“Yeah.”
“Well I’m sorry sweetheart, but there ain’t no fuckin’ way I’m going out like that.” He gave you a devious smirk as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips, “Can’t have you thinking I’m a one pump chump or something.”
“Wha- Eddie, oh my god.” You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting them as you fell back onto the picnic table, legs spread wide as your dress began to bunch around your hips.
“You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie groaned as he looked at the damp patch against the crotch of your panties, his palms splayed on your inner thighs as one of his thumbs stroked against the soft cotton. Feeling the dampness of it beneath his touch as you gasped in surprise, immediately bucking your hips as he tightened his grip to hold you down.
“Ah, ah, ah.” His brown eyes stared down at you, “It’s my turn now, remember?”
He gave you a playful smile as his hands trailed higher, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties as he slowly pulled them down your thighs, groaning at the sight of silvery strings of your slick connecting the garment to you and breaking off in glistening lines against your inner thighs, his spent cock already throbbing at the sight as he tried to ignore the uncomfortable wetness in his boxers.
Carefully slipping your panties over your white tennis shoes as he slipped them into his back pocket with a grin, dropping to his knees on the cold forest floor as the leaves crunched beneath him, leaving him eye to eye with your dripping cunt.
“Shit, you got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen-” Eddie began, almost going crosseyed as he shamelessly ogled your naked slit, “I mean, it’s the only pussy I’ve seen. Well, not the only one- I’ve watched pornos, I mean. Classy ones though, really well done- I just meant that this is the-”
“Eddie,” You cut him off with a feeble whine, “Please touch me.”
“Anything for the fair maiden.” He smiled mischievously, his cheeks a soft pink as he leaned forward, disappearing beneath the bottom of your summer dress.
Your entire body jolted as you felt him lick from your drooling hole up to your clit, his groans vibrating against your skin as he tasted you for the first time. Your hands immediately tugged the fabric of your dress up around your hips so you could watch him, and nothing could compare to the sight of his pretty eyes staring up at you from between your thighs.
“Fuck, Eddie.” You groaned when you felt his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue lashing against it as he sucked hard, “Feels so fucking good.”
“Such a nasty mouth on such a pretty girl.” He teased, running his tongue back through your slit as he came towards your tight entrance. Prodding the tip of it inside you as you rolled your hips into his touch, shamelessly trying to get him deeper, to have more of him. Whatever he gave it would never be enough, you wanted all of him.
You wanted all of Eddie Munson.
“Eddie, don’t tease-” You pouted those cherry lips and suddenly he was smitten.
“‘m sorry, baby. ‘m sorry.” He cooed, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your throbbing clit, “I promised I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” You whispered breathlessly as you felt one of his calloused fingertips graze your tight hole, fluttering around it.
“Eddie’s gonna make you feel real fucking good, don’t you worry.” Before you had a chance to tease him for referring to himself in the third person he’d already dived back in. His lips immediately wrapped around your clit as he sucked hard, one of his fingers pushing inside your tight walls as you felt the metal of his ring at the bottom. Curling the digit as though he was searching for something, unsure what he was looking for until you cried out for him. Now focusing on that same spot as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, stretching you out enough to add a second.
Your hands felt lost, palming at your clothed breasts through the thin material of your summer dress before venturing lower to fist the hem, rolling your hips into his touch to try and match his movements before your fingers finally threaded through his curly hair. Nails scratching against his scalp as you tugged, making Eddie moan into your cunt as you pressed him impossibly deeper into you.
The metal chains at the bottom of his leather jacket sleeve clanked against the picnic table with each flick of his wrist as he fucked his fingers into your sloppy hole, spit drooling from his lips as he sucked your clit, the moisture running down to his hand as it soaked his fingers and rings but he could care less.
If he could do this for the rest of his mediocre existence, he would.
“Eddie, ‘m gonna cum.”
“Yeah?” He pulled away with a cocky grin, his fingers continuing to pump inside your tightening walls, “You wanna cum all over my face?”
“Do it, sweetheart.” He hummed against your clit, “Show me how pretty you look cummin’ all over me.”
Eddie locked eyes with you between your thighs and it was all it took to have you coming undone, the coil inside you snapping as you felt your climax wash over you, white spots blanking your vision as you cried out his name.
“Fuck,” You cried out, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head as you tried to push him away from your overstimulated cunt, but Eddie wouldn’t move. Groaning as he continued to suck your sensitive clit, fingers now wiggling inside you as you restricted him from moving them in and out of your sloppy sex.
“Nu-uh,” His brown eyes stared up at you from between your thighs, “I know you got one more in there for me, sweetheart. I can feel it.”
“Eddie, I can’t.” Eddie’s eyes stayed locked on yours, making sure that he wasn’t going too far, as he shamelessly slurped at your slit.
“Yeah, you can.” His nose bumped your clit as his tongue pressed against his fingers inside your hole, a lewd squelch filling the air, “See- at least your pretty pussy's honest.”
“Oh, god.” You cried out, your legs trembling from the intense sensation as you were vaulted into your climax. Lips parted in a constant whine as your greedy walls clamped around Eddie’s fingers.
“That’s it- there you go-” Eddie coaxed you as he felt you succumb to your bliss, pressing a final lingering kiss to your clit as he pulled his fingers out of your trembling pussy.
Standing up between your thighs as he gave you a smug grin, his chin glistening from your essence as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His body hovered over you as he stared down into your eyes, grinning at how dazed you looked as you stared up at the darkening sky, the trees hiding you from the final rays of evening sun before sunset.
Sitting up from the picnic table as Eddie circled his arms around your waist, letting you snuggle into his chest as your arms circled around his waist beneath his leather jacket, breathing in the scent of him. Both of you basking in the afterglow as he gently swayed side to side.
“So, do you feel more relaxed now?” Eddie grinned as he rested his chin on the top of your head.
“Mhm, but I’m not sure if it was you or the weed.” You laughed, squeezing his waist as he let his hand slide down to give your ass a playful swat.
“Oh, it’s definitely the weed.” He scoffed, “I’m way too annoying to be relaxing.”
You leaned back from his arms, playfully smacking his chest as he pretended to be in pain, holding the spot that you hit as you laughed.
“You know, I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.” He whispered, his tone serious as he moved his hands to your hips.
“So why didn’t you say anything?” You mumbled, tilting your head to look into his eyes.
“Like I said, ain’t no way a girl like you would ever like a guy like me.” He leaned his face back slightly to meet your gaze.
“Well, I do.” You smiled, tipping your head back and pouting your lips for him to kiss you softly.
“Don’t know why,” Eddie scoffed against your lips, “But I feel pretty lucky right now.”
“Me too,” You smiled, pushing some of the curly hair away from his eyes.
“I can’t believe you made me cum in my fuckin’ pants like a teenager.” He groaned, his wet boxers sticking to his skin uncomfortably as he wiggled his hips, “I’ll make it up to you next time.”
“Next time?”
“Yeah,” Eddie chewed his gum nervously, “Unless you don’t want there to be..”
“What other pretty boy with curly hair is gonna help me relax?”
#Eddie munson x reader#Eddie munson smut#stranger things smut#stranger things x reader#tw:drugs#trigger:drugs
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
dickpic!reader trying to tease jay by giving him her panties but it backfires badly when later he sends her a video of him with his hand, that’s holding the panties, wrapped around his cock and he fucks himself w them 🫡
phew!! almost 2k words. think this might be my fave part so far.
**
You flinch awake in complete darkness.
Soft, imploring fingers trail from your ankle up to the sensitive skin across the back of your knee. Panic flares so cold it burns all the way to the very top of your head and you kick out, strong but clumsy, foot catching someone warm and firm in the stomach.
There’s a soft ‘oof’ and the hand disappears. You find yourself up on your knees in the space of a few seconds, fists raised, heart threatening to pound straight out of your chest. Fight or flight hooks into all the nerves along your shaking spine and there’s half a second where you don’t even know where you are.
Until someone says your name.
It feels like taking a deep breath first thing in the morning when the air is so cold and crisp it burns your lungs. Feels like dumping freezing water over your head in the middle of a summer heatwave, body caught halfway between complete shock and endless relief.
“So this was my surprise, huh?” Jason says mildly, and the tension shoving open your ribs exhales. “Not what I was expecting but m’not complaining.”
Wearing his black tactical pants and long sleeved undershirt, Jason unclips his weapons holsters and drops them on the bed. Inelegantly falling backwards against the headboard you cross your legs and reach out, fingers curiously grabbing at one of his guns.
The weapon is cold and heavy in your hands. You find the safety close to the trigger and make a conscious effort to stay away from it. Part of you wonders how Jason can find comfort in the weapon, holding it now, you feel almost dangerous.
But a quieter, more thoughtful part of you thinks that being dangerous might be the point. After all, there’s a certain sense of control that comes from being armed, it kind of feels like protection in a weird, twisted way. People generally think twice before going to hurt the person with the gun.
And you know in the meat of your heart that Jason Todd has been hurt enough.
“I ought to shoot you for waking me up like that.” You threaten, gun pointed firmly away from Jason. “Scared the hell out of me.”
“You’re in my bed.” He deadpans, unbuckling his belt. “What did you expect?”
Placing the gun beside its holster you grab a handful of jelly beans from where you left them on the bedside table and switch on the lamp. “Is it too much to ask to be woken up normally? You know, you could have said my name or even turned on the light.”
Offering a shrug in response he grins and takes off his pants.
Raising an interested eyebrow you tip some jelly beans in your mouth and chew, “You want some?”
Pulling yourself to your knees again you shuffle to the end of the bed as Jason steps out of his tactical pants and meets you partway. Opening his mouth expectantly you roll your eyes and tip the rest of your handful into his greedy mouth.
Chewing thoughtfully he gives you a brief once over, “Are you wearing my shirt?”
“It’s comfy and I didn’t bring any sleepover pyjamas.” You defend. Pressing a warm hand to your whole face Jason smiles mischievously and shoves you backwards. Falling flat out across the sheets you try to kick him in the chest but fail, “It’s your own fault for leaving it in plain sight. I’m totally blameless in this scenario.”
“You’re nothing but a common criminal.” Jason grumbles, moving to grab a new shirt to sleep in. “First my jelly beans, and now my shirt.”
“Hey! Your hiding places suck. Have you suddenly forgotten that I know you? Like really know you. You mean the world to me, so of course I make sure to pay attention to what you’re doing.” Shuffling to one side of the bed you kick back the covers and settle underneath. “Don’t think that I don’t know about the stash hidden in my apartment too by the way.”
Jason’s face does something odd then.
It’s less like surprise and more like outright horror. You find yourself on high alert, wanting desperately to soothe it, you haven't seen him look at you like that before, like you’ve just single handedly sent him scrambling for solid ground.
For a second, you wish you never told him you knew.
“You found that?” He says, and there’s something vulnerable in his voice.
You hum in confirmation, “Came across it when I was clearing out my old clothes from the wardrobe.” You remember the surprise of finding it, all that food, and then the sharp bite of confusion that followed. “It’s still there, I haven’t touched it, figured it was something important.”
“You can get rid of it.” Jason chokes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry for hiding things in your apartment.”
“It’s not stupid.” You say quickly, jumping out from under the covers to reach for him, fingers grabbing at his waist, his shoulder. “Jay, if it means something to you then it’s not stupid. Not to me. M’not going to get rid of it unless you want me to, okay? You spend so much time at my place, I’m surprised that’s all you’ve stashed there.”
The faintest smile brushes his mouth and your fingers itch to chase the soft, plump curve of his lips. The urge feels more dangerous than holding a weapon, it feels more selfish, feels almost heavier. Walking your hand along the top of his shoulder you brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.
Jason says your name so softly, with so much meaning, and you shiver. His hand comes up to press over your own and your chest cracks wide open, everything important and critical about you exposed.
“Let's get some sleep, yeah?”
The mention of sleep makes you yawn and Jason smirks before shoving his finger in your wide open mouth.
**
You wake with his breath on the back of your neck.
There’s a slow realisation of the position you’re in. Jason plastered to your back, hand anchored around your waist. He’s warm and safe and you shuffle backwards even further into his hold, content to spend as much time as possible in his embrace.
When he wakes, you know that things will go back to normal. Both of you stuck between friends and something more.
Loving him is a lonely thing.
Under the early light of dawn you drag the very tips of your fingers over his forearm. There’s a faint twitch of muscles and you feel Jason sigh before he snuggles against you, leg nudging yours under the covers.
“Jay.” You whisper. “I need to get up, I’ve got to get ready for work.”
Slotting his leg between your own Jason grumbles and tightens his grip, “No.” He whines, sleep clinging thick to his voice. “Call in sick. Wanna cuddle with you.”
Tracing the veins from his wrist to the crook of his elbow you laugh lightly, squinting against the sunlight shining through the window, “Maybe next time?” You offer gently, peeling his arm from your waist.
“Promise?” He sighs, rolling over onto his back.
Sliding out of his bed you beeline for the bathroom and give him no response, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. If he asked, you’d promise him just about anything. If only to see the soft, touched smile on his face. If only for the chance to kiss him.
Before leaving though, you stop by his bedside and make sure the sheets are draped loosely around his shoulders; you know how much he hates feeling trapped, confined to one single space.
And if you drop a kiss to his forehead, that’s between you and the dawn.
**
Checking your phone as soon as you get home you almost catch fire.
The sudden heat reminds you of solar flares, bright and shining. A burst of plasma and energy powerful enough to knock your whole life straight out of orbit. He has a habit of doing that to you. Knocking you so far of course it feels like burning yourself alive.
Jay: I think you left these at mine this morning
Jay: sent a photo
Opening the image you ache between your legs.
Jason has a pair of your underwear wrapped around his fist, and he’s holding his cock, precum leaking from the fat head all over the soft fabric. It’s the pair you were wearing yesterday and you know that they’re not exactly clean.
You: you’re killing me
You: i’m dying
You: they’re not clean, i wore them yesterday
His reply comes a few moments later and you struggle to keep some semblance of composure.
Jay: i know
Jay: sent a video
Pressing play you sit down on the sofa and make sure the volume is turned up. The video focuses immediately on Jason’s thick cock. Your underwear is wrapped around the base and you watch as his fingers twist into the fabric before he drags it up to the wet tip, jerking himself off with it.
His breath stutters when his hips thrust upwards, shoving his cock through the cotton until he twitches. The fabric steadily gets stickier and stickier as he leaks everywhere, his fist tightening until he moans.
The camera shakes when Jason shudders and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. He groans softly when your underwear rubs over the tip and you gasp at the wrecked sound of his voice, desperate to hear what other pretty noises he can make.
All the muscles in his stomach tighten and you’re mesmerised by the catch and release of them. Even more by the faint trail of hair dusting his navel. The edge of the camera barely catches his thighs but you see them shaking, see him struggling to control the urge to really fuck your underwear.
He fails miserably and you shake when he moans, long and low.
Grinding himself up into his fist he gasps and chokes out your name. Seconds later his body locks up and you almost whimper when Jason’s pretty cock starts twitching, covering your underwear with his come. His release is thick and white and your pussy aches, clit straining for even one touch, for even a slight bit of attention.
Jason says your name again and this time it’s different. It’s softer, you almost don’t think he meant for you to hear it.
But you did hear it and you go back, listen to it again because it’s breathy. Because if you close your eyes you can hear a touch of his Gotham accent. Because for a moment you could really believe that you’re there with him.
You: great
You: imma go rub one out
Jay: aw for me?
Jay: how cute
You: yeah for you
You: want me to send you something?
Jay: please please please
You: okay
**
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x reader smut#jason todd x you#jason todd x you smut#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood x reader smut#ella writes#asks#answered#birthofvcnus
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
can you tell my heart is speaking? {misc.}
@diodellet requested: how would these characters react to getting an anonymous love letter from their crush who, ~plot twist~ has really really illegible handwriting? (like doctor's penmanship but ramp it up by 200% hahaha) like who would try to deduce the sender's identity or who would mistakenly throw the love letter in the trash?
this was one of those requests where i read it and INSTANTLY got inspo - even though it ended up a little silly. i hope you like it!!
!! information !!
characters: ruggie + jamil + rook + lilia + sebek
reader: gn!
cw: none!
masterlists ⇿ requests
• • • • • • • Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie is one of the easier ones to slip a note when he’s unaware. Just ask if Crewel needs to bother Leona about retaking any tests, go tell Leona about these tests until he threatens to bite a piece of you off your body, then slip into Ruggie’s room and leave the note squarely on his pillow. Most of the guys in the dorm don’t care enough to watch the weird freshman and remember what they’re doing, or they just assume you’re dropping something off for Ruggie as you tend to do.
When Ruggie gets the letter, he at first thinks he’s too tired to read. But then he blinks a few times, holds the letter closer and further from his face, and realizes that, no, his vision is just fine. He’s just got a mysterious letter to figure out, on top of all his regular work. Now, he just has to figure out if it’s a ransom note or a love note…
His consideration of it being a love note is 100% a joke. He doesn’t mean it. But after checking all of his belongings (the stash is still meager, but it’s been growing substantially) and realizing nothing is missing, he crosses ransom off the list. So he starts wondering if he forgot to repay someone, or if somebody could be collecting an IOU. But the list of people he allows to hold favors over his head is notably short, and they all accuse him of trying to hasten the process of them deciding what to use him for when he asks them about leaving a message for him. Ok, so it’s not debt collection, either.
At lunch, Ruggie holds the note in the sun and turns it around in his hands. Some of the symbols actually look like words…written by the kids back home, of course. When he thinks about it like that, he can actually make out a few words: confess, his name, and…love??
OH. So he was right when he found the note. He laughs at himself then, and is thankful he chose to sit by himself in the courtyard today.
That makes narrowing down the suspects way easier. There’s only one person in this school who even pretends to like him, and luckily it’s the one person he doesn’t mind getting a love letter from. Yeah, he wishes he could actually read what you wrote, but something tells him he’ll hear it straight from the horse’s mouth soon enough.
Did you think he’d run straight to you like a lovesick prince and clear the air, saving you from your multi-day suffering of wondering why you haven’t heard a response? You’d be right! - well, partially, about him beelining for you. But you know he’s going to tease you for your handwriting, mentioning how some of the kids back home wrote better than you. Lucky for you…a lot of them can write so well because of him. He’s not the neatest writer out there, but you can READ his handwriting, which would be an improvement on your part.
Ruggie showing up at your door nearly gave you a heart attack, even though it was what you’ve been hoping for. You noticed instantly the piece of paper held in his hand, full of your deepest thoughts and feelings for him. But why did he look so confused?
“What does this say?” He immediately asked, not allowing you to get a word in. Your eyes darted from his face to the note, an embarrassed heat creeping up to your face.
“Uh. Well. If I wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t have written it out, you know?”
Ruggie stared at you for a few moments before laughing, crumpling the paper in his hand as he did so. Your heart sank - was he really going to reject you in such a cruel manner?
“Listen up, prefect! I’m going to give you some lessons in penmanship,” He declared. “I used to teach some of the kids back home, so this should be a breeze.”
“Oh, okay,” You agreed, not wanting to sound too eager. You didn’t wanted to say it (out loud), but he got a million times cuter when he talked about the kids in his neighborhood. “But...what about the letter?”
“I can’t read it.”
“Oh.”
“But don’t worry!” With the mischievous look on his face, you were suddenly reminded that Ruggie wasn’t simply some innocent underdog in the school just because he wasn’t one of the infamous overblots. “Your final exam will be rewriting it, and I’ll be watching you write every single word.”
You couldn’t tell if he was being flirty or mean, but your heart did somersaults anyway.
• • • • • • • Jamil Viper
Jamil is a difficult one to catch off guard, especially since (mostly unbeknownst to you) he has a crush on you, too. When you’re in the room, he finds himself watching you from the corner of his eye (or sometimes straight on during his less subtle days), noticing little things that only make him all the more wistful.
The one time he won’t do this is during basketball practice. This is for two reasons: one, he’d die of shame if he missed an easy shot because you were in the room, and two, he happens to be in a club with one of the people who would instantly blurt out any strange behaviors from him if spotted (Floyd). At least Kalim has the sense to stop talking when Jamil gives him a very pointed glare that would only encourage Floyd further.
So, as long as you rope Ace into your plans, talk to him by the bleachers for a second and sneakily place a letter on Jamil’s bag, he probably won’t even notice. And if your note is just on a piece of paper and not enveloped with stickers (please make it discreet, he would also DIE if he had a very obvious love letter on his stuff, regardless of who it’s from) then he won’t even suspect anything until he’s already reading the letter!
…unfortunately, Jamil can’t read the letter.
He tries! He really does! For about 30 seconds. Then he decides it can’t be deciphered and is probably a stray page of somebody’s notes that got stuck on his bag somehow. Ace, who is very aware of what it actually is, tries to casually question Jamil as he crushes it in his hands.
Jamil responds flippantly, saying he couldn’t make sense of it and it’s nothing any of them need to worry about. Before Ace can casually try to offer to decode some of it, Floyd takes that as an invitation to snatch the paper ball, shout a popular baseball player’s name out (nobody is sure if he chose a player of the wrong sport on accident or not), and throw it in the wastebasket across the room instead of the one right next to him. (It makes it! As the basketball club cheers Floyd on and Jamil rolls his eyes, Ace swallows nervously. He’s 90% certain that you just got rejected, hard.)
Ace not-so-subtly breaks the news to you the next day, and he winds up pulling Deuce into ‘Operation: Cheer Up The Prefect!” This involves ice cream (coincidentally they bring home more than you need in their own favorite flavors) and keeping you as far away from Jamil as possible. With how brutally Ace told the story, you’re positive you’d die of embarrassment if you had to meet him face-to-face.
But Ace notices during practice one day that Jamil keeps staring at him. When they take a water break, Ace almost implodes in relief when he’s finally approached.
“Hey, Ace. Is anything wrong with the prefect?”
“You care?” Ace asked, purposely taking the bite out of his words.
“Well...” Jamil shoves his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt - sweat tank? - and looks to the side, as if choosing his words carefully. “Kalim was planning another party, and I need to know if they’re sick or anything so he doesn’t get sick.”
“Oh. Yeah, they’re fine.” Well, as much as he hates it, Ace feel sorry for you. This guy is ruthless. But he can’t just leave it at that - he’s gonna get you closure, whether you wanted him to or not. “Hey, what did you make of that weird letter on your backpack the other day?”
“You still remember that? It was a piece of-” Jamil stopped, looking right at Ace. Shrinking away, Ace watched Jamil as his eyes shifted slightly, trying to figure out if Ace was messing with him. “What do you mean, a letter?”
“...I may or may not know the basics of what it said. And could’ve read it. Because I know who wrote it. And I can read their handwriting.”
Jamil’s eye twitched once as he started to connect the dots. He looked more annoyed than horrified, which Ace couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. “This letter is sensitive in nature if you only know the basics of what it said, and it just so happened to be the event right in between the prefect talking to me every day to avoiding me when ‘they’re fine?’ Did I get that right?”
Ace laughed nervously. “They don’t call Scarabia one of the smartest dorms for nothing...”
“Sevens,” Jamil cursed, turning on his heel. He was out the door before anybody could ask him what he was doing, but Ace figured out where he was headed. You were in for quite the surprise. To walk out like that...Jamil must really like you.
Gross.
• • • • • • • Rook Hunt
Epel tried to fight you tooth and nail when you asked him to deliver the letter. However, after several rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors and even more accusations of you cheating, Epel finally (and begrudgingly) agreed to be your mailman. If Vil wasn’t in the room when he delivered it, he would’ve just tossed it at Rook and been done with it. However, he handed it over with as much grace as he could, listened to Vil’s curt corrections, and scurried out of the room (while Vil called out something against said scurrying.)
Rook knew exactly who wrote the letter as soon as he saw the first word. With handwriting as unique as yours, how could he not? You thought you could hide it when romance seized you so wholly you couldn’t help but express it in written words? How foolish!
Rook began giggling like a madman, and eventually, Vil’s curiosity got the better of him. “What do you have there?”
“It seems the little lovebird has finally decided to sing their song!” Rook exclaimed. Vil wasn’t sure if he’s ever seen such pure glee before.
“Ah, of course. Any highlights?” Code for give me the details, please!
“I would tell you, but I’m afraid I can’t read a single word.”
“Huh?!?” They don’t talk about the utterly disgraceful noise that left Vil’s mouth at that.
See, Rook knows what he received through deduction alone. He’s been expecting you to make a move for some time now, actually! And while he’s touched by what you decided, it’s such a shame that your feelings didn’t break through like you thought they might! Fortunately, Rook gets told he speaks cryptically all the time, so he can play your little game with you if you’d like.
Suddenly, you have Rook trailing you even more than usual, spouting long, wordy praises(?) and sonnets that put Shakespeare to shame. He uses excessively flowery prose and more dramatics than usual, so what little words you catch just don’t make any sense. You enjoy the show, and you’re happy to see he hasn’t rejected you entirely, but you’re also completely lost on any progress you thought you would’ve made with the letter.
Rook has had his fun. Now, it was time for the moment you’ve certainly been waiting for - he was going to answer your feelings and return them in full!
With the recent theatrics, he decided a simple flower and a knock on your door would be enough to express how genuine he was being. After all, he didn’t want to overwhelm you entirely and have you doubting him! So he knocked on your door between the end of classes and dinner, certain you’d be winding down from the day and have a second to spare.
When you opened the door, Rook bowed and offered the flower in his hand to you. “Ah, mon cœur, how lovely it is to see you again. I’ve come to officially accept your feelings and see...if you might be interested in pursuing a relationship with me? You know I do love a good pursuit.”
You took the flower cautiously, an eyebrow raised. “But I thought..”
“Hm?”
“Oh! Nothing.”
“No, no! Do not be keeping secrets from me already!” Rook lamented, straightening his posture and grabbing your hands in his. “Tell me what it is that confuses you.”
“Well...” All of a sudden, you were feeling very embarrassed and sort of like a fool. “I guess, when you started with all the poems every day, I kinda thought...that meant we already were in a relationship?”
Rook blinked at you, unable to hold back his singular laugh. “My feelings are as strong as they have always been. I could feel the passion in your letter, I could see the love-”
“You couldn’t read the letter, could you?” You sighed. “Grim warned me this might happen...”
But Rook, thoroughly amused with the situation, only brought your hands to his face and pressed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Perhaps we are soulmates, then, if we so thoroughly understand each other with such indirect communication.”
• • • • • • • Lilia Vanrouge
Are you confessing to Lilia via letter because it’s old fashioned and romantic, or because you’re scared? As you walk up the hill to the front door of Diasomnia, you still can’t figure out the answer for yourself.
If you know Lilia well enough to even considering there’s a CHANCE at a successful confession, you’ve definitely picked up on how he’s much…more than he leads on. Even if you didn’t know him that well, with the way everybody who knows him respects and admires him, you’d have to be stupid not to know SOMETHING was hiding beneath those “innocent, adorable eyes” and those “boyish good looks” and his “smooth, youthful cheeks.” (All, of course, are direct observations made by the fae himself.) So perhaps the chance at being gently let down is greater than you’d hoped, but certainly you’re trying to appeal to his more private side, right?
You approach the door, stand frozen in front of it, and slip the envelope with his name beneath the door before hurrying away. Okay, you wrote your confession because you were scared.
Lilia allows you to leave the dimension of his dorm before curiously picking up the letter. You aren’t very good at hiding your tracks, but against fae, most humans aren’t. He smiles at the hearts you’ve drawn on the envelope, carefully peeling off any stickers to keep. What a sweet way of telling him things he already knows.
Oh, he doesn’t mean to be demeaning! You’re simply so cute, it’s hard for him not to coo over every little thing you do! He’s been carefully tiptoeing around the subject for ages, but if you were brave enough to confess to him first…perhaps it’s time for him to truly confront the feelings that have been building ever since he met you. You are strange, and you are reckless, and you are oh so dear to him. It couldn’t hurt to at least see where a relationship would go within the year, right?
(Read: Lilia has some hangups about the difference in your lifespans, but fae aren’t exactly known to be selfless creatures. Lilia doesn’t hoard jewels and gold so much as he does the people he holds close to his heart, so it was really only a matter of time before you found yourself by his side anyway.)
Of course, even if Lilia can read the letter just fine, he has to have some fun with it! The hope and apprehension in your eyes when he meets you next is too enjoyable not to toy with, just a little. So, instead of asking you to dinner, Lilia asks if you need help with your unit on hexes and curses. Confused, you cautiously agree and suddenly, instead of a date, you have a two-person study group. At least he’s not avoiding you completely?
Lilia has you carefully drawing out the symbols in your textbook while he watches with his sharp eyes. You’re almost positive he’s leaning too close to you on purpose, and you’re 100% sure he’s being such a perfectionist just so he can fluster you more. When he purposely puffs a little air on your neck just as you’re finishing this round of symbols, making you jolt and mess up an otherwise perfectly straight line, Lilia clicks his tongue and begins to tell you to start again. You interrupt him.
“You’re being weird again.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” You respond, turning to face him. Ah, right, he never backed away and now your faces were inches apart. Leaning back, you turned your head and huffed. Normally you’d find this endearing, but now you were beginning to feel like a toy. “What’s with this whole studying thing, anyway? I never mentioned having trouble in class. Actually, I’m doing just fine.”
“And yet you accepted my help anyway?” Your face began to heat up. Lilia backed away to give you your space again. “No, I just thought I might help you, since whatever curse you slipped underneath my door was absolutely abysmal.”
“Curse?”
“I’ve gotta say, though, hearts are a strange choice of rune...”
“Oh,” Your face got hotter, and you sighed. “Listen, Lilia, if I overstepped...”
Before you could finish, Lilia leaned in again, one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table. You weren’t caged in at all, but you felt as if leaving would be a big mistake - not that you wanted to, of course. Lilia was smiling, the carefully constructed way someone does when they’re waiting to prove you wrong.
“Don’t say that, little one. It appears I’m the one that overstepped. I only meant to tease you a bit, that’s all. I never meant to imply I wasn’t interested.”
• • • • • • • Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek’s eyes have been on you all day (more than usual). Lilia joyfully proclaims that he has “‘got it bad,’ as the youth are now saying,” but Sebek knows it’s deeper than that. Sebek knows you are planning something.
You and your two friends (which, now that he’s got suspicions, he refuses to admit are also his friends) have been hunched over something, whispering conspiratorially and laughing all day. What’s more is that the Young Master has been hanging around you at night more and more frequently. Dots are connecting in Sebek’s head, and he doesn’t like it one bit.
Before he can best decide how to confront you, you leave with your little entourage. But what’s this? Upon closer inspection, Sebek realizes you’ve left behind a piece of paper. He scans it closely, once, twice, then realizes…
YOU’RE PLOTTING AGAINST THE YOUNG MASTER AND WRITING YOUR PLANS IN A SECRET CODE?!?!
Sebek is beside himself with grief, fury, and shock at your audacity. At your betrayal!! How could a human such as yourself - weak and simple-minded and kind and attractive and determined - stoop to such lows?! This isn’t right! It keeps him awake at night, and he decides the next morning that he must confront you before you do something you cannot undo.
You hear loud, aggressive banging on your door far earlier than Ace and Deuce ever arrive at your dorm. Excitedly sending the two a text saying Sebek is right on time, you jump down the stairs and try not to be too excited. After straightening yourself out one final time, you take a deep breath and open the door.
...Only to see a very frantic Sebek?
“HUMAN.” His voice is loud as always, but it almost sounds more tense than usual. You’re thankful Grim is the only other one in the dorm who sleeps, otherwise you’d have some very angry roommates right about now. “What is it that you’re planning?!”
“What am I planning?” You repeated. This was not how you were hoping this conversation would go.
“Don’t act like I haven’t seen you and the others plotting in the shadowed corners of the school!” From his pocket, Sebek presents your letter and waves it in front of your face. “I know this is a secret code, and I know you’ve got something nefarious up your sleeves!”
“What? I don’t-” You grab his wrist to stop his waving, only to look past the paper and see him so worked up, he’s got tears in his eyes.
“If you denounce all your evil plans to me right now, I’ll let you off with a warning! As a future knight of the young master, I really shouldn’t be making such deals, but-” And he cuts himself off, like the emotion is too much for him to handle. It’s almost sweet, how he offers up his integrity just to keep you afloat. Or maybe he’s finally accepted that Malleus actually likes you and would miss you if Sebek were to chase you away. It was hard to tell.
What wasn’t hard to tell was how distressed Sebek is, so you took the paper out of his hands and look at it. Deuce did warn you that your handwriting was rather messy. It would make sense that he couldn’t read it. How he got this idea in his head, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to watch him suffer for much longer.
“You figured me out, Sebek,” You responded sadly. Sebek looked absolutely scandalized. “I wanted to leave the young master vulnerable, so I was trying to take out the rising star that would one day defend him.”
“And how did you plan to do that?” Sebek scowled at you. You heaved a dramatic sigh.
“...You. I was trying to take you out.” For the effect, you paused for a moment before continuing. “On a date, actually. This isn’t a plan written in code, it’s a love letter.”
Sebek stared at you before clearing his throat. “OH.”
It was going to take a while to sink in and even longer to convince him, you could tell. You ushered him to your couch before he could faint.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jamil viper x reader#rook hunt x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#ruggie bucchi#jamil viper#rook hunt#lilia vanrouge#sebek zigvolt#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#awww yiss princess and the pauper title#i think......listen mon coeur is the best french pet name imo#but i also think he'd call yuu lovebird it's SO cute that's what i want#also i like to clown on sebek but i promise i do adore him. he's sweet#he's just also fun to mess with
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
blognice
Doğal
bacuda-blog
blair acuda
roxy-thyrockinartist
Roxy_thyrockin’artist
kubbalik
Sem título
sjhours
sjhours