#fucking bullshit right? it's called THINKING. just keep that shit in your head
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A/N ::: This is so damn tacky, I swear to fucking God, dude. And I love it. And if anyone is curious, I'm nearing the end of the training for my new job and shit's insane. We're learning all kinds of new shit and it's so hard to retain. Jfc. But it's over on the 17th of May. Then I pick up my laptop, and my phone and head off to my new desk where I'll decorate it like the fucking fun little nerd I am!
C/W ::: Hanma is a dick and not the fun-loving kind, either.
MDNI under the cut.
🔘🔘🔘 Hanma Head HC's 🔘🔘🔘
🔘 Hanma has a bad habit of only calling on you when he's bored.
🔘 He knows you'll always answer the phone, the door ... however he chooses to reach out to you at the time.
🔘 He's so sweet to you at first. Telling you "You're so prihhh-ty" and how much he enjoys spending time with you.
🔘 He lies; tells you about how busy he is with stuff. You know it's bullshit, but you love him so much that you let it go.
🔘 And even if you hadn't let it go right away, as soon as he touches you, you're a goner.
🔘 "Baby, been missin' this body s'much. But fuck, things are so crazy righ' now. Can't be with you like I want."
🔘 Hanma will guide you over to your desk and hoist you up by your thighs.
🔘 "You puttin' on some weight? Heh, I think it's all in your ass. Lemme have a bite. 'Mere."
🔘 It hurts your feelings when he says things like that. But he wants a bite ... so he likes it. Right?
🔘 After he gets you up on the desk, he spreads your bare legs.
🔘 Hanma has taught you well to have your pants off by the time he gets there, leaving you only in panties (thongs ... or he spanks you relentlessly until you convince him you're sorry for not being sexy enough for him).
🔘 The man simply has no time to waste (lies) - let alone, waste on you (bigger lies).
🔘 You wanted to believe you were kind of important.
🔘 But with how few and increasingly far between his visits, phone calls, whatevers have been lately, you're not sure now where you rank in his life.
🔘 And the more you think about it right now, with his face between your chubby, warm thighs and his lips around your puffy clit, you want to cry.
🔘 But who cries when they're getting head? GOOD head, at that.
🔘 He knows just how to hook you and keep you hangin' on.
🔘 He kisses that crease of soft skin between your thighs and your cunt, whispering sweet nothings to it. You wonder if he even remembers you're there.
🔘 "G'na make ya cum so hard, yeah, slutty slutty slit uh'mine. Fuckin' love you so much. Miss you all the time. Now open up f'me. Gonna give ya all I got, princess.
🔘 He grunts slightly when he lifts you from the desk and carries you around to the bed, laying you down unceremoniously and not even bothering to push his pants down below his thighs.
🔘 Hanma winked at you as he stroked his cock a few more times for good measure.
🔘 "Baby ... ya ready? Daddy's home. Gonna give ya some milk then run out and buy s'more."
@viburnt @trevengersprincess @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @bakubunny (I don't know if I'm just stupid or what, but I can't find your other acct?)
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo revengers smut#tokrev smut#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev#hanma shuji#hanma smut#shuji hanma#hanma x reader#hanma x you#hanma x y/n#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo revengers x y/n#tokrev x reader#tokrev x you#tokrev x y/n#hanma headcanons#shuji hanma headcanons
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oh! my nephew stayed here last night, and he told me that his grandma's partner - the most annoying, conceited, boring man I have ever met - said he doesn't like it that I always contradict him :)
I've met this guy maybe... 5-10 times total? and every time he manages to say something even more stupid than the last! it's almost impressive! like, he thinks he knows everything. and no one ever says anything, they just let him talk because it's not worth it (I know that because almost every one of them has told me this).
but I get too pissed off when it's something I care about. and I'm an adult now, I can talk back to shitty adults, I don't give a fuck.
anyway, I just think it's absolutely hilarious that he feels that way and now I'll do it even more often :) it's very fun when I ask him what his sources are for what he's saying and he just stammers some bullshit and tries to say that's not the point (pretty sure it's 100% telegram and tik tok, because that's the kind of useless old guy he is).
#some fun recent examples include... my niece gave back my rainbow high doll. he saw it and commented that it's disgusting that dolls#sexualise little girls like that because of crop tops and high heels and makeup and garter belts. what the fuck man. no one is sexualising#anything except YOU#that's a fashion doll. meant to be like 15. wearing fun pretty clothes and colourful makeup. if you look at that and think oh that's#too sexy. then I'm sorry but that's YOUR problem#(and garter belts??? it was some decoration hanging off her skirt what the fuck.)#he didn't like it when I said that no one ever says toys for boys have to be good role models :)#got realllly pissy when I wouldn't stop :) like hello dude you know there's something you can do if you don't want anyone to respond to your#fucking bullshit right? it's called THINKING. just keep that shit in your head#I'll keep doing this until he no longer wants to say dumb shit when I'm around :) (so. forever probably. but he's old he'll die before me so#it'll be fine).#oh and one time he tried to convince us that regular people in the UK are better off since Brexit. hello? dude you don't speak a damn word#of English. you barely know how to order a drink or something. how the fuck would you know#it drives me insane. he couldn't be any more mediocre and stupid if he tried. yet he thinks he's the greatest person ever#can't fucking stand him#and men like him in general. (yes it is only ever men. women like my mother are similar but they're never this fucking sure of their shitty#opinions.)#(in fact they usually give up way too easily. in my experience at least.)
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Boomerang (part 2)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"
"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."
Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"
"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.
"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."
"Vel—"
"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"
"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."
"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Bullshit!" She growled.
Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.
After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."
Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."
She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."
Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.
"Thanks," you said sincerely.
She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.
****
Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.
His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.
Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.
"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."
Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?
But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"
Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."
"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"
Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.
Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.
"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.
"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?
"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."
By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."
He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.
"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.
"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.
"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"
She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."
Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.
You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.
And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.
"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.
"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.
****
"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.
Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.
"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"
"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."
"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.
Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."
Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.
"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.
"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.
"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.
"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"
"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"
"Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"
"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."
"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.
"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"
"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"
"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.
"I'll kill him first."
"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.
"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.
"You what?" you snapped.
"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"
The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.
"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"
"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"
Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."
"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"
"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.
"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."
You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.
"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."
Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.
"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.
****
<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>
Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#vox#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#vox hazbin#hell#vox x ofc#vox x oc#vox x reader#vox x you#alastor hazbin hotel#vaggie hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#husk hazbin hotel#sir pentious#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel velvette#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin#vaggie#radio demon#alastor#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin vagatha#angel dust#husk
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honey ♡ joel miller
rating: E 18+ only
pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader
summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age
warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum)
a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)
“Which eyeshadow should I use?”
You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”
Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.
“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.
“Uh… Yeah?”
“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”
“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.
Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”
“My dad is a dork.”
“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”
Sarah only rolled her eyes.
“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”
Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.
You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.
His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—
“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“
“Oh, really?”
You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”
“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.
“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.
She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”
You groaned softly. “Bummer.”
“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”
“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.
You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”
“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”
You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.
♡
You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.
“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.
He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.
“Bees?”
“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”
Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”
He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”
You only shook your head.
“They’re calm if you are.”
I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.
“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”
He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.
You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.
“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.
He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”
“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”
Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”
“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.
You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.
“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“
“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.
“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”
“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”
“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”
You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.
“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”
“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”
Idiot.
“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”
He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”
You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“
“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.
“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.
“Mnh-mnh.”
“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”
“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.
Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”
His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.
“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”
“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.
He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.
“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”
He smirked at your amused expression.
“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”
He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”
Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.
“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”
It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.
Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.
WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.
You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.
Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.
“Tastes good.”
“Just good?”
“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.
He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.
“Sarah know you’re out here?”
After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”
“So we’re all alone,” he finished.
“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”
He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.
Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.
“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.
Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”
“S’normal,” he muttered.
He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.
You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.
“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”
You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.
He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.
“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”
“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.
“Hmm. Where at?”
Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”
Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.
“I get it?” His voice strained.
You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”
Your clavicle.
More honey. More licking.
“How ‘bout now?”
You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”
Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.
“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.
His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.
“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”
Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.
He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.
Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.
Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.
Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.
Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.
He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.
His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.
Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.
He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.
“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”
Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.
“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”
“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.
His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.
“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”
Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.
“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”
Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.
Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.
“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”
You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.
“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”
He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.
Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.
“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.
He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”
You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.
“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”
“I’m cu—oh!”
“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”
He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.
Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.
“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“
He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.
Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.
“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.
“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”
#SORRY THIS IS KINDA RUSHED UMMM#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#tlou smut
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Unfair - Hwang Hyunjin
Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit!
Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.
Word Count: 5.2k
MASTERLIST
“Ugh! I’m so pathetic!” you cried as you busted inside your best friend’s room. “Like, so pathetic”
Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, lazily sketching something on his notebook when he heard your cries, making his head lift up to look at you. “What happened this time?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
You sat down on the couch with a huff and crossed your legs under your butt. “I thought he was the one. And he obviously was not” you grumbled.
“Who?”
“Soobin! I can’t believe it” you face-palmed yourself. “I- God! I thought he was into me. Like, he was flirty all the time. We’d go out to eat, which I mistook as dinner dates. He’d take me to the funfair. Shit, he even gifted me that giraffe plushie which I’m obviously stabbing him til the fucking insides are laying all over my floor” you snapped.
Hyunjin was pressing his lips together to contain his smile. Not because you were miserable, no. Because you looked so freaking cute when you were angry.
“Stop smiling, Hyunjin. I feel like shit”
Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” he said.
“Not helping here”
“Sorry, sorry” he said, placing his hands in the air in defense. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. Come here” he cooed, extending his arms, making you sigh and crawl towards him as he wrapped his arms around your body.
“I’m so pathetic” you whispered, feeling your eyes stinging with tears.
“What? No” he shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only girl in the world that got her heartbroken or got her hopes up over a stupid boy that couldn’t see what was in front of him this whole time?” Hyunjin rambled on. “That’s bullshit”
You felt your heart melt at his words. “Thank you for saying that, Hyunjinnie. Really, but I think this time I’m accurately depicting myself. I’m a pathetic loser”
He just chuckled against your hair. “You’re being mean to yourself”
“I deserve it”
“No, you don’t. So what if Soobin doesn’t like you like that? There are tons of other guys who aren’t blind as him” he said.
“Yeah, where are they?” you asked angrily.
Right here, Hyunjin wanted to say. “You just gotta keep looking” Hyunjin said.
You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. You wondered what it would be like to be with him. You obviously did. It had been three years since you met Hyunjin, and you couldn’t get over the fact that you loved him. It wasn’t every day that you make yourself a friend who’s an idol, and every single person on the planet wants and longs to be with him, so you weren’t stupid. Your chances of being with him were slim to none. You got your dose of liquid luck that got you there with him, being his friend.
“I know. But I’m just so tired of missing and missing the target over and over again” you rambled on.
“I get that. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to keep trying, Y/N” he whispered.
You nodded. “I’ve got no date for Valentine’s. Can you believe that?” you asked, almost to yourself. “That’s what’s pathetic”
Hyunjin chuckled. “I don’t have a date for Valentine’s either”
“Yeah, but you’ll be on tour. Besides, you got seven dates”
“No, ew” Hyunjin shook his head. “I love them, don’t get me wrong. But no, I’ll pass” he said, making you giggle. The sound made his heart clench painfully in his chest. You don’t know I’d give my life for you to continue giggling like that forever, he thought. “I’m sorry I’ll be away. I was gonna offer you to be my date. Figured we could finish watching the last episodes of Daisy Jones”
You sighed. “It’s fine. You gotta be a superstar, duty calls” you giggled. “I wish I could go with you, though”
“Yeah, me too” he nodded. “Why don’t you come, though? I’ll pay for your tickets”
“I got work, Jinnie. I know you’d pay for them. You did that the two times I went overseas to watch you guys in concert. Best experience of my goddamn life, by the way” you said, making him laugh. “But, no, this time I’ll painfully pass. I love my little shop”
You had your own art supply shop, where you sold canvases, acrylic paints and all sorts of stuff that any artist in Seoul would need. Hyunjin stumbled across your shop three years ago and he loved it. He always found everything he needed for his artworks. But the best thing he stumbled across in your shop was the cute vendor that was smiling at him, asking if that was everything he’d need, if he needed assistance or the way you smiled whenever he’d talk.
The attraction he felt was so real and so scary to him, but he loved it. He felt he found the one. And that feeling didn’t change. It probably won’t. Ever.
“I know you love it. I love it” Hyunjin praised.
You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah”
You giggled, pressing your head into his chest once again. You let out a content sigh and then closed your eyes, feeling exhausted after crying the whole way back to his apartment and putting up with your feelings for the boy your were laying on.
<>
“You’ll stay here with Y/N, okay Kkami?” Hyunjin told his little four-legged friend that was sitting on the comforter. “You’ll be good to her, aren’t you? You like her more than you like me, anyways”
The comment made you giggle and pet Kkami’s hair. “He’s a good boy, Hyunjinnie. He’ll be okay here with me” you said.
“Yeah?”
You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “Absolutely”
“Great” he sighed with relief. “If you need anything, I wouldn’t say ‘call me’ because I don’t trust myself to be with my phone if you needed me, so I’ll just tell the guys downstairs that whatever you need, you can ask them. You can help yourself out with ev-“
“Jinnie” you stopped him with a laugh. “I do this everytime you go away for more than a week” you reminded him. “It is not my first rodeo”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right” he nodded. “You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Now go! You’ll be late” you scolded him, pushing him out of his room.
He chuckled and turned around, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you!” he called as he made his way out.
“Love you! Have fun!”
“Thank you!”
You shut the door and then looked at Kkami who was comfortably sitting on the bed. “You’re gonna be my date for Valentine’s, Kkami” you sighed.
Kkami barked at you, making you chuckle.
“Yeah, I know. Me too” you said, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “I miss him too. And he just left”
<>
ONE WEEK LATER…
Hyunjinnie: everything ok over there?
You smiled as soon as you heard your phone chiming with the personalized tone that Hyunjin had chosen for himself.
You quickly typed your answer back.
You: everything’s ok!! u?
Hyunjinnie: everything’s cool. i’m having so much fun, i missed touring honestly. but i miss u as well :(
Your heart literally melted.
You: you sweet little ferret. i’ll tell the kids.
Hyunjinnie: NO! please i’ll never hear the end of it if they know i’m a softie for you
You giggled.
You: for me and Felix, isn’t it?
Hyunjinnie: Yeah, you and Yongbokkie are the only ones i’m soft for.
You smiled and left your phone next to you when you heard someone coming inside the store. As the client finished their purchase and left, you heard your phone vibrating against the counter a few more times.
After the customer left, you quickly grabbed your phone.
Hyunjinnie: so, there’s only five days left for valentine’s day
Hyunjinnie: have you found a date?
Hyunjinnie: i’m sorry i’m sending so many texts. we’re currently having a mini break from sound check
You quickly typed your response, hoping he didn’t go back to sound check.
You: yes, i actually have
Hyunjinnie: oh…
The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.
Hyunjinnie: who’s the lucky guy?
You: it’s actually someone you know pretty well
You: he’s been keeping me company these days. he’s lovely
Hyunjinnie: oh
You felt weird watching him reply to you. Wasn’t he getting it?
Hyunjinnie: what’s his name?
You: His name is Kkami. a charming little man ;)
Hyunjin didn’t reply for a solid 30 seconds, the longest thirty seconds of your entire life.
Hyunjinnie: oh lol. i really thought you got a date with someone real
Hyunjinnie: tell Kkami thanks for keeping my girl company
Hold up.
My girl?
Your heart clenched. And so did your core. But you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.
You: i’ll tell him
Hyunjinnie: y/n i gotta go :(
You: nooooo!!
Hyunjinnie: i don’t want to go. but i have to. i’ll text you later, promise!!
You: okay :)
Hyunjinnie: love you! tell kkami i love him too
You: we love you and miss u too hyune!!
You sighed putting your phone down.
My girl.
Yeah, you were not going to let that go.
<>
TWO DAYS LATER…
Hyunjin sat in his dressing room, exhausted after performing for thirty thousand people for 2 hours straight, holding his portable fan in one hand and in the other, his phone. He scrolled his Instagram feed and smiled when he saw that you had uploaded an Instagram story to your close friends.
He clicked on it and his smile got even bigger. It was a selfie that you had taken with Kkami, with a text that said: My favourite cuddle buddy ❤️.
He swiped up, quickly sending you a direct message, reacting to your instagram story.
@hynjinnnn: you two are the cutest!!
@y/n.jpg: thank u <3 we miss u jinnie
His heart melted reading those words.
He instantly clicked on your profile and started stalking your photos. It was unreal the effect you had on him. How every single time he looked at you, or thought about you, his heart would clench inside his chest. Hyunjin was so in love with you, he didn’t know what to do with it.
He clicked on a certain picture, one that did things to him. It was one that you took on a night out with your friends, wearing a short dress that made your chest pop up nicely. He licked his lips and sighed. How is it possible that a woman like you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s? Are men really that blind?
His mind instantly went to Soobin. He knew the guy. He was nice, but Hyunjin really thought the guy was dumb. Did he actually see what was in front of him? Didn’t he notice all of the things Hyunjin sees in you? How perfect you are?
Hyunjin shook his head.
He was going to do something about this. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from you having at least a little something for Valentine’s. He’d be damned.
<>
VALENTINE’S DAY
You woke up from your slumber and immediately put a hand on your forehead, groaning as you sat up.
“Here goes my pathetically alone Valentine’s day” you said, hopping off the bed. You opened your closet and found the dress you had bought back when you thought you were going to spend Valentine’s with Soobin. “Yeah, you suck” you sighed, grabbing it and chucking it on the floor.
Kkami watched you with curious eyes and it made you chuckle.
“I guess I’m not that alone” you said, grabbing him and taking him with you to the living room.
You put the TV on, clicking on Netflix.
“Twilight it is then” you grumbled, and clicked on it.
As you got through the middle of the second movie, someone knocked on your door.
Your eyebrows instantly furrowed. Who was it?
You peeped through the peephole and saw the delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.
What the hell?
Slowly, you opened the door and smiled slightly at the delivery man.
“Hello”
“Hi, I’ve got a delivery for… Y/N Y/L/N? Is that correct?” he said.
Your eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s- that’s me. Who are those from?” you asked.
He checked the list and shrugged. “It… doesn’t say” he said, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry”
“No, no, that’s okay. Do I sign?”
“Yeah, here-“ he said, handing you the paper and you scribbled your sign on it. “Thank you, have a great day”
“Thanks, you too” you said, as you took the flowers from
him and closed the door behind you. “Okay, what the hell?” you said loudly.
You placed them on the counter and saw that it had a card. You quickly grabbed it and gasped.
My muse,
Someone as beautiful and amazing as you doesn’t deserve to be alone on Valentine’s day.
I hope this makes you smile.
Hopelessly in love with you,
Hyunjin.
Your eyes started to water.
‘My muse’
‘Hopelessly in love with you’
Since when?
What does it mean?
Why would he tell you like this?
There was only one way to know that.
You quickly grabbed your phone and clicked on his contact.
You: what the hell???
You: the flowers? the note? what does it all even mean, hyunjin?
You patiently waited for him to answer, and about twenty minutes later, you got your answer.
Hyunjinnie: everything.
Hyunjinnie: it means everything.
Hyunjinnie: you mean everything.
You felt your cheeks getting wet by the stream of tears leaking from your eyes.
Hyunjinnie: i wasn’t going to let my girl be alone on valentine’s day. and as i can’t be there, at least i’ll give you a bouquet of red roses.
You smiled, biting your lip.
You: this is so unfair
You weren’t going to confess to him via text. No. You weren’t going to let that happen.
Hyunjinnie: what’s unfair?
You heard your phone chiming but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were too busy opening your laptop and typing on the airplane ticket website.
Hyunjinnie: Y/N???
<>
ONE DAY LATER…
Hyunjin’s day off was supposed to be relaxing.
But it was the complete opposite of that. He had spent the entire day sitting on the couch next to the window of the hotel room, his leg bouncing up and down and checking his phone every ten seconds to see if he had a message from you.
He had confessed his love for you.
And you said it was unfair.
What did that even mean? Unfair?
He sighed, brushing his hands over his hair, over and over again.
Hyunjin jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It’s Jisung, open up” he heard his friend on the other side of the door.
He got up with a groan and opened the door. “What?”
“Well, hello to you to, brother. I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said with a sarcastic smile, walking inside his friend’s hotel room.
“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Jisung had something in his hands.
“You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast or lunch, so I figured you’d be hungry” he said, extending his hand and offering him a bowl of raw ramen.
Hyunjin smiled and grabbed it. “Thank you, Ji”
“You’re welcome”
Hyunjin clicked on the electric kettle and poured the hot water on the bowl.
“What’s on your mind, Hyung?” Jisung asked.
Hyunjin sighed. “I sent Y/N a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s” he said and then looked down. “And I haven’t received an answer yet”
“Oh man” Jisung sighed. “I’m sorry”
“It’s okay” Hyunjin shrugged. “I mean, it’s not, but we’ll see” he said, grabbing his ramen and eating a little.
Jisung sat on the bed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to do anything with you being so far away” he said. “I mean, as far as I know, that girl is obsessed with you. She’s always smiling at you. Whenever we talk about you with her, her face lights up. Even an idiot can see that”
“You’d know that, don’t you?” Hyunjin tried to light up the mood.
Jisung snorted and flipped him the finger. “Ha-ha, so funny” he humorlessly said. “But seriously, I know everything will be fine. Don’t torture yourself with the what-ifs”
Hyunjin nodded, biting on his food. “Thank you, Jisung”
Han smiled. “No problem, Hyung”
He got up from the bed and patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. He got out of the hotel room and as he turned around to walk down the hall, he saw you running towards him panting heavily.
“Ji- Jisung, hi!” you whispered.
“Y/N?” Jisung asked confusedly. “What are you doing here?”
“It- it’s a long story. Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked.
“That’s his room, 806” He pointed at the door on the left.
“Thank you” you sighed.
“No problem” he said, getting inside his own room. “See ya”
You waved and then nervously walked towards Hyunjin’s room. You let out a shaky sigh and knocked on the door.
Hyunjin got up from the hotel room couch, leaving his ramen on the table. Did Jisung forget something?, he asked himself, looking around his room.
He walked towards the door, without checking who it was and his stomach dropped when he saw you standing there, panting.
“Y/N?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
His thoughts were cut short when he felt you tug his head down with your hand by the nape of his neck down to crash your lips against his. His brain short circuited, but quickly put his hands around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You pushed him backwards, inside his room and he kicked the door shut with a thud.
His tongue ran over your bottom lip, bringing you back to reality. You needed him to know.
“Jinnie-“ you said, breaking apart from the kiss.
Hyunjin looked at you and then back at your mouth. “What?” he asked, before pressing his lips against yours.
You smiled, pulling away, and held up the card that was delivered with the bouquet he had gifted you. “This…” you whispered. You saw his eyes flickering with anxiety. “I’m in love with you, Hyunjin. I just… I never ever thought you’d love me back” you chuckled.
He smiled and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. “Of course I am. I’m crazy for you” he smiled against your lips. “You’d think I’d let a friend sleep in my bed, with my dog, and lend them my clothes, and let them cuddle with me?” he asked.
Well, no. Now that you thought about it, the signs were clear.
“Oh…” you said, realizing it. “I’m an idiot”
“Hey. Stop talking about yourself like that, Y/N. You’re amazing. Perfect, even. And so, so, so ethereally beautiful” he mused.
You pressed your lips together, looking down at your shoes with shyness.
Hyunjin brought a hand over to your cheek, caressing it. “I love you, Y/N”
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, a long one. “I love you, my Hyunjinnie” you said against his lips. “So much”
After he brought your bag inside his room, you kept staring at him with lovey dovey eyes. He then turned around and you blushed, his stare making you nervous.
As he kissed you once again, his arms came around you, turning you around and walking you towards the bed with him. He carefully dropped you on the bed while devouring your mouth, which you could barely keep up. He was everywhere. His hands were roaming every single inch of skin he could find while he drowned himself into your drugging lips.
Before dropping himself on top of you, he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the back and pulled it over his head. His toned stomach made you gasp, as you’ve never seen Hyunjin shirtless. He smirked as he noticed your reaction, and he crawled towards you, pushing his face close to yours, in an intimidating manner.
“What is, hm?” he murmured against your mouth before pressing a kiss to your lips.
You licked your lips and raked your nails over his toned stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin” you whispered.
“Says you” he chuckled.
“Yeah?”
You felt a surprising amount of courage that made you sit up and pull your own shirt over your head, leaving yourself sitting on the bed wearing your skirt and your pretty white lace bra that you chose for the occasion in case you were to get lucky.
His eyes visibly darkened and dropped to your chest. His mouth pressing against yours with passion made you gasp against his mouth. He pressed you back against the mattress and his hands came up to grope your tits, making your back arch in pleasure.
“You don’t even know the things I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since we met” he whispered against your mouth. He then pulled away and continued his trail of kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect”
His words made your stomach flutter with warmth and you carded your hands through his hair.
“Hyunjin” you whispered into the air.
“What?” his voice came all muffled by your skin.
“Touch me, please” you sighed.
Your voice made his knees buckle. His hands went towards your jeans, undoing them and almost ripping them down your legs. He smirked slightly, watching you from above as you laid on the bed only in a matching set of white underwear.
His tongue came to lick his lips and then pressed a wet, long kiss on the skin of your stomach, making you gasp a little. His mouth started to trail down the kisses down your navel, and onto the band of your panties. He tugged the band with his teeth and let it snap back against your skin. His long fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and dragged them down your legs.
His gaze immediately fell on your core, and it made you self-conscious. You didn’t know why. This was Hyunjin, someone who never made you feel bad about anything. A true gentleman.
Your thoughts vanished when you felt his palms on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a good view of your core. He bit his lips and sighed.
“You’re dripping, princess” he murmured, his fingers scooping up some of your wetness and he pressed them on his tongue, licking them clean. “Fuck, I need to taste you”
You didn’t even have time to think, because he was pouncing on you, and started devouring your pussy like it was the last meal of his life. You couldn’t even moan properly, your breath hitching on your throat as you processed what was going on.
His nose bumped with your clit, while his tongue kept pushing in and out of your entrance. Your hands went straight to his hair, pulling every once in a while, making him moan against you.
“Hyun- Hyunjinnie” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck”
“God, I love it when you say my name like that” he said, pulling away from you and slapping your core, making you yelp. “Say it again”
He then dove right back into business, making your eyes roll back into the back of your head, while your toenails kept digging into his back.
“Hyune” you sighed, as you felt your orgasm closer and closer. “Hyune, I’m gonna come”
“Come, baby. Come all over my face” he whispered, continuing his ministrations.
Your head violently pressed against the mattress as your back naturally arched while your orgasm hit you like a truck. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up every single drop and not letting anything go to waste.
With uncontrollable gasps, you opened your eyes to find Hyunjin on top of you, his face wet from your orgasm. He kept licking his lips and staring at you with the most enamored gaze ever.
“What?” you asked, with a little smile.
He pressed a kiss onto your lips and then bit your bottom lip. “Nothing. I just was admiring my girl” he said against your lips.
You smiled and your hands went down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and trying to stick your hand inside his pants, noticing his hard rock erection against the fabric.
His hand stopped your movements. “I wanna come with you, inside of you” he whispered, making you blush.
“Then what are you waiting for?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you found a slight ounce of courage.
He smirked, his hands going over your back and unclipping your bra, carelessly throwing it away behind his shoulder. He could only stare.
He couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you were.
You felt nervous, and you grasped onto one of his hands, moving it towards one of your breasts, making him squeeze it and brush his thumb over a nipple, making you moan slightly.
His other hand joined as well, and then his mouth. He sucked at one of your tits, while the other one was being assaulted by his hand.
“Jinnie, fuck me, please” you whispered into the air.
“I will, baby, I swear I will” he muttered against your chest, moving onto the other one. “Your tits are fucking amazing, I swear”
You bit your lip to contain a smile.
He lifted his head from your chest and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, making his cock slap against his stomach. Hyunjin was big, you weren’t going to lie. And most definitely, what you were expecting.
His hands went to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He took a condom from there and quickly ripped it open, putting it on.
“I can’t believe I’m here” you said out loud.
Hyunjin finished putting the condom on and crawled back on top of you. “Believe it, baby” he smiled and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. “It’s happening”
You felt him nudge against your entrance and you bit your lip, holding onto his shoulders. He pushed his cock in and you gasped, arching your back.
“Fuck me, you’re tight” he whispered against your neck. “So, so tight, baby”
“You’re big, Hyunjinnie” you whispered.
“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his hands brush your hair away from your forehead, the action made your heart flutter. “Am I hurting you?”
You quickly shook your head. “No, no, I swear”
He smiled and continued with his movements, his hips kissing your pelvic bone with each thrust. You could only moan against his neck and hold on to him.
“Harder, please” you pleaded. “I know you want to, give it to me like you want to” you repeated over and over.
Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, turning you into a face down position. He slapped both your ass cheeks and grabbed your hips, so your knees were resting on the bed with your chest flat on it. He pushed his length inside of you from behind and thrusted into you so hard it made your vision cloud with white spots.
“Yeah, fuck!” you moaned against the sheets.
“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked, sweat dripping from his body. You couldn’t answer, really. You couldn’t even form a proper sentence due to his erratic thrusting. Hyunjin slapped your ass again and it made you yelp. “Answer me, Y/N”
“God, yes, I love it” you moaned.
“Good” he groaned, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into his chest. His hands went around you, one on your neck and the other one around your stomach, holding you tightly. “I love you, God, I love you” he whispered against your neck.
Your hands carded through his hair and you held onto him. “I love you, Hyune” you moaned as he kept hitting your sweet spot, over and over. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”
“Good, come around me. I wanna feel you” he groaned.
Your back arched as he kept kissing your neck, while his hands gripped onto your tits. With a long moan, you orgasmed around him, without any help from his hands.
He gently laid your body down, on your stomach, while he kept thrusting in and out of you, searching for his own orgasm. Hyunjin gripped your hips as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.
“Fuck, fuck, baby” he kept whispering as he thrusted one, twice and then emptied himself into the condom. Once he had finished, he carefully laid next to you after taking out the condom and throwing it away inside the trash, his hand going to brush your hair away from your face, so he could stare at you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking amazing” you sighed with a smile.
He chuckled, caressing your cheek.
You stared at him while biting your lip. “I love you, Hyunjin. So much”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you, my muse”
<>
ONE YEAR LATER - VALENTINE’S DAY
You opened your eyes slightly, shifting under the sheets and immediately groaning at the pain that you felt in between your legs.
It was all his fault.
He had bought you a new set of underwear and he had ripped it away from you as soon as he saw you in it. And he was the one to blame for the soreness inside your thighs.
You heard soft pattering coming from the hallway and you sat up to see your boyfriend coming inside your shared room, holding a tray with breakfast. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of boxers, which made you bite your lip at the sight.
“Hello, my muse. Good morning” he smiled putting the tray on the bed and crawling on the bed to sit next to you. “Happy valentine’s day” he whispered before kissing your lips.
“Happy valentine’s day, my sweet boy” you kissed him again and again, not able to get enough from him. “I love you. And thank you for this”
“I love you. And you deserve it” Hyunjin told you, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. All of you. But I’m so thankful I have this. You” you told him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“God, me too” Hyunjin sighed.
You smiled, feeling so content with the life you had.
Kkami took you both by surprise by jumping on the bed, making you giggle. “Hey, little man” you smiled at the pet, who wagged his little tail and then barked.
“You wanna know what he said?”
“Oh, God. What?” you asked laughing.
“He just said, happy valentine’s day, mommy”
“Mommy? I’m his mommy?” you asked him.
“Of course” he nodded, kissing your lips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else”
#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin#stray kids#skz x you#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#hyunjin imagines
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peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee
nerdy peter makes me feral.
Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with.
A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away.
Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean.
Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away.
All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved.
He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you.
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe.
Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes.
But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences?
He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him.
You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all.
—---------------------
Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought?
That was you with Peter Parker.
He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test.
Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer.
After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance.
“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.”
You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real.
“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.”
Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek.
Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.
Six steps away he calls out, “yes!”
You pause, then turn, “what?”
“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.”
Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up.
Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy.
“Really? You will?”
Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?”
“You got it.”
Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing.
Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal.
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him.
—---------------------
You figured it was first date nerves.
That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up.
This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring.
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker.
It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it.
Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure.
“Can I kiss you?”
It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away.
Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot.
“Um, you know if you didn’t want-”
“Can we do this again, please?”
And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes.
—--------------
The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top.
Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?”
You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off.
Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.”
If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’.
“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?”
The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it.
—------
Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words.
The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?” It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.”
You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books.
Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self.
You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you.
“Can I come over later?”
“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?”
“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls.
He has no idea what’s coming.
—------------
Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin.
“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-”
Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?”
You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.”
The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races.
“Why?”
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.”
How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted.
“I don’t… what does that mean?”
You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.”
Oh my god.
He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else.
He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you.
Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you.
“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.”
Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed.
“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.”
Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,”
He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.”
You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you.
This was who he was, so why was he hiding it?
“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.”
Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”
That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.”
“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?”
You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.”
“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself.
His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-”
Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks.
“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss.
“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water.
“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.”
Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?”
“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper, “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?”
Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.”
For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid.
#peter parker blurb#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#tasm peter x reader#peter parker angst#my writing
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Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3
kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤
.
“Pads is dating her?!”
Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.
At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.
In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people.
You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with.
You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you.
Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time.
“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”
“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked.
“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied.
“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.”
It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false.
Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—
All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile.
“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight.
“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself.
And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss.
“Moony, are you seeing this?”
“I’m seeing this, Prongs.”
“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.”
What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both.
“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you.
“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.”
“Such crass language,” you hummed.
Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?”
You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.”
His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?”
“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body.
“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”
.
#sirius black#marauders#harry potter#hp#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fic#sirius black one shot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders one shot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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scare (cheatrry)
word count: 1.9k
content warnings: slight mentions of smut, pregnancy scare, cheating plot, mentions of abortion, not suitable for ramadan
based on this blurb!
main masterlist
. . .
Harry’s not an oblivious man.
More often than not, he considers himself to be an empath, easily picking up on mood changes pertaining to those around him. With his ex-wife, he could tell if she’d had a bad day at work just by the way she walked through the front door. With Y/N, it’s much, much easier, because, for the first time ever, she’s clearly avoiding him.
When he texted for their weekly hookup, she churned out some bullshit excuse about landscapers being at the house all day. (There weren’t. Call him insane, but he drove by on her lunch break, and her front and back yards were so quiet, you’d be able to hear the sound of leaves falling.)
And while they normally don’t interact much at school pickup — usually Harry’s being swarmed by hungry MILFs who he politely rejects each and every time — she’s taken to wearing a large pair of sunglasses over her eyes, almost as if she’s physically attempting to hide from him. It’s odd and it makes him concerned, even if he’s the one that’s repeated the same sentiment regarding their situation a million times over (“no feelings, just sex”).
His brain launches itself into the worst places it could possibly go, so on Thursday afternoon, exactly one week and a day since they last slept together, Harry tries to casually mosey over to her car as she stands there, waiting for her kids to leave school. He watches as she visibly clenches her jaw and he clears his throat, standing next to her but refusing to give her eye contact. There’s a reason they don’t ever speak too much at pickup time, and it’s always to make sure no one suspects anything.
“You’re avoiding me.” he says through gritted teeth. She inhales through her nose and he peers down from the corner of his eye to see her expression. It’s difficult to tell when she’s wearing those ridiculously oversized sunglasses.
“I’m not avoiding you.” she mutters, leaning her hip against the bumper of her black SUV.
“Then why haven’t I seen you?”
Her nostrils flare as she runs her tongue over her teeth.
“It’s barely been two weeks, Harry. Don’t be dramatic.”
He resists the urge to snort and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well fuck me for wanting to make sure you’re alright.”
“Keep your voice down,” she grumbles, flashing a forced smile to a mom who passes by them. She clears her throat and pushes her sunglasses into her hair. Harry’s relieved to finally be able to see her eyes. “I might be… pregnant.”
Despite the drop in his stomach, he’s able to maintain a stoic expression. He’s no longer the foolish teenager he once was — he and Y/N are both fully capable adults and would know how to approach an unwanted pregnancy, need be. What scares him more is the prospect of her wanting to keep the baby.
His mind is whirring at a million miles per hour when she grits out his name, bringing him back down to earth. He coughs.
“My period is late but I haven’t had a chance to pick up a test yet, so don’t get your panties in a twist.” she replies lowly. They hear the school bell ring, signaling the official end to the day. They have about four minutes before the kids come running out through the front.
“I’ll pick you up tonight at 9. Tell your husband you’re having a baking emergency or some shit.”
Y/N doesn’t have a chance to fight him before he’s walking away, headed back in the direction of his car to wait for his twins.
. . .
Harry parks down the road from Y/N’s house at 9 pm on the dot.
He feels like some sort of shitty spy with the way he’s turned his car lights off as he waits for Y/N to get in. He texted her as soon as he got there — they used to have a secret code word for their rendezvouses but it’s been months since they started, and Harry thinks they could fuck right in front of her husband and he wouldn’t even notice.
He sighs as he takes a sip from his reusable water bottle. He glances up at the rearview mirror for the tenth time in the past minute, his stomach calming some when he recognizes Y/N’s frame hustling towards his SUV. He presses the ‘unlock’ button as she wordlessly climbs in the passenger’s seat. Harry doesn’t say anything when he shifts the gear back into drive to pull out of her cul-de-sac.
Finally, he asks: “Did your husband have an issue with you leaving?”
Y/N tries not to roll her eyes.
“No, but I also didn’t tell him I was having a ‘baking emergency’, like you so kindly suggested.”
“Oh, so you told him you have to go take a pregnancy test to make sure you’re not knocked up with some other guy’s kid?”
“Stop being a dick,” she mumbles, occupying her shaky hands by playing with the ends of her hair. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?”
When she doesn’t reply, he sighs.
“The twins are at their mom’s for the next few days so after I dropped them off, I got a few tests from the pharmacy a few towns over. We’re going to my place so you can take them.”
Her stomach tightens. While she’s mainly worried about the results of the impending pregnancy tests, she’s also never been to Harry’s before. He’s never actually offered.
Y/N hums in response — it’s apparent she doesn’t have much of a choice, and quite frankly, she’d rather take them there than go back to her own home and do it. A silence blankets them once again as he drives through their quiet suburban neighborhood.
Until Harry clears his throat.
She cranes her neck to look at him, quirking an eyebrow as a wordless encouragement to say whatever stupid thing he’s thinking.
“If it’s positive… you’re not… you’re not gonna have the kid, right?”
She sighs noisily. “Do I look like I’m in the position to deal with that? I already feel guilty enough fucking you behind his back.”
“He pays you no attention, Y/N. Your pussy is always completely depraved when we hook up. You shouldn’t feel bad.”
Y/N ignores the way her skin warms at the casual filth that falls from his lips.
“To answer your initial question, no, I wouldn’t keep them. I would get an abortion.”
He doesn’t respond to that, which leaves her to believe it’s a satisfactory reply.
It’s only a few more minutes before Harry’s pulling into the three-car garage attached to his house. They move silently and quickly, as if any one of his neighbors could come out and see them together — she supposes it’s a possibility, but their town is usually asleep by 8:30 at the latest. She follows him in through the side door, which apparently takes them into the kitchen. He flicks some lights on as he digs in his pocket, pulling three small boxes out and tossing them on the kitchen island.
“Take your pick,” he says before nudging his chin in the direction of the hallway. “There’s a bathroom down there.”
Somehow, she’s unsurprised that he got the most expensive options — the ones with the digital screens that spell out “you’re pregnant!” with a smiley face on it. She grabs the first one and follows the direction that Harry led her in. Despite the harshness of the interior design (everything feels pristine thanks to white marbled flooring and light gray walls), she notices that he has a plethora of family photos that line the hallway. None of the pictures include his ex-wife, who left Harry three or so years ago. She remembers it being a huge deal in their small community. They were both gorgeous, a completely picturesque family that seemed completely destined to be together. Rumors flew about the divorce — everything from Harry sleeping with his wife’s assistant to her running away to Aruba — but Y/N never cared to find out what really happened. In fact, she and Harry didn’t really speak until they started sleeping together.
Her mind wanders back to the task at hand when she closes the bathroom door behind her. She’s taken many pregnancy tests in her life — she has two kids, after all. It’s a straightforward process and she gently places the cap back on the stick, placing it on the sink as she waits for it to process. After flushing and washing her hands, she nibbles on her bottom lip, watching as the little bar loads.
. . .
Harry thinks he’s going to vomit as he waits for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom.
He hasn’t felt this way in years. Despite the twins being his entire life nowadays, when his ex first got pregnant with them, he spent months sick with worry. And although Y/N already assured him that she wouldn’t keep it if she is pregnant, the thought of her carrying his child still makes him woozy.
His head snaps up when he hears the bathroom door creak open. A few moments later, her sneaker-clad feet carry her back into the kitchen. She holds the stick in her hands and Harry’s eyes bulge at it.
“Negative,” she breathes, putting it down on the table, as if to prove it. “No baby.”
He sighs out in relief. “Thank fuck.”
She nods. “Just make sure you destroy this or whatever,” she mumbles, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. It’s only then that Harry realizes how exhausted she looks. She has deep bags under her eyes and her lips look worn from constantly biting them. “Listen, I’m fine if you want to stop messing around. This was scary.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “It was a pregnancy scare. It happens to everyone.”
“Yeah, but there’s more consequences for us.”
He shrugs. “We would’ve taken care of it.”
She’s too exhausted to fight him on his nonchalant nature, so she just sighs instead.
“I take it that you don’t want to stop, then?” she asks, pursing her lips at the male.
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“Okay,” she nods, “We’ll just need to be more careful, then.”
“Sure.”
She swallows, glancing past him to read the time on the stove. “I guess I’ll get going then.”
“I can drive you home.” he says quickly, grabbing his keys off the table.
She doesn’t reject his offer, especially now that the adrenaline from the evening has officially worn off. For the second time that night, she sits in the passenger’s seat of Harry’s car, allowing him to chauffeur her back to her house. He drives down to the spot he picked her up in, at the very end of her road so no one sees him dropping her off.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “Sorry about all this.”
“It’s fine, shit happens. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
It may be the nicest thing he’s ever said to her and she doesn’t know what to say. Instead, she simply flashes him a small smile before moving to open the car door.
“Wait—” Harry reaches out to press his hand to her knee. Y/N glances down at his touch and he quickly rips it away. “Are you around sometime next week? For me to come by?”
She doesn’t even consider what her schedule looks like before she turns to look at him.
“Yeah. Come over whenever you want.”
He sends her a wide grin as she climbs out of his car.
#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles x oc#harry styles x y/n#harry styles masterlist#cheatrry#writing#⭐️
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quiet!choso
quiet!choso who has no problem being out by himself, but refuses to talk in any other way than a hushed tone in public. only using his regular voice at home or with family, but he still barely spoke in full sentences.
quiet!choso always looks to you to order for him. voice too deep and quiet for waiters and drive threw workers to hear him so he always just lets you do it.
“i’ll take the number five with fruit punch as the drink pleaseee.” you chirped into the receiver. pretty skirt riding up your thighs as you leaned halfway over the center console to order your food.
“okay! anything else?” the employee asked. you looked at choso, who stared deep in thought at the menu before moving his lips towards your ear. “same thing…please” you smiled at how soft spoken he was, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for his cuteness before giving the woman his order.
quiet!choso who not only speaks quietly, but moves in silence as well. there has been too many times where your soul has left your body because this man has come home from work without making a sound. just quietly changing his clothes before sitting on the couch to watch his shows.
you were in the main bathroom, just getting done with some cleaning. your earphones were playing sza softly in your ears as you hummed along to her voice. as you walked from the toilet to the shower, you glanced out the door and your heart dropped to your ass. there was a man on your couch, hood on his head as he sat comfortably watching tv. you covered your mouth from the scream that you wanted to release before quietly reaching for your phone to call your boyfriend.
since you hid in the tub, you missed the part where choso pulled his phone from his pocket, giving it a confused look before answering it. ‘why is she calling me if i’m home?’ he thought as he quietly spoke to you through the receiver. “hello?” he instantly grew worried at your shaky breaths, quietly getting up from the couch before slowly walking to where he saw you cleaning. “t-there’s a man in the house”
choso stopped in his tracks, turning around before looked around the empty living room and kitchen. “where?” he said softly walking towards the small black pistol he kept deep in the cushion of his recliner. he slowly pulled the weapon out, being as quiet as possible before walking towards your bedroom to further his inspection. “h-he in the living room. got a black hoodie on with his hood up. looks pretty big too.” choso took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he realized his mistake. you always told him to let you know when he’s home if he doesn’t see you when he walks in the door, but of course he forgot. “mama that’s me. i’m home from work” before he could say anything else you hung up, standing up from the tub before walking out into the living room with your arms crossed.
“choso bring your ass over here right now boy!”
quiet!choso who even though is seen as an antisocial guy, goes out with you to parties and get togethers. always giving you the same quiet speech about how “a man doesn’t need a voice to keep his woman safe”.
quiet!choso who doesn’t really care what people think of him, letting his brothers and friends call him all types of names without getting irritated in the slightest.
“she already do the talking so i’m guessing she be doing to fucking too” his middle brother sukuna said with a chuckle. choso, yuji, and sukuna agreed to have “bro bonding” (clearly yuji made the name) every other weekend to “keep their relationship strong”. this time it was being held at sukuna’s cave house where the three of them ate takeout and played on the game. “kuna leave em aloneee. there’s nothing wrong with letting your woman have control” his youngest brother said, large hand outstretched on choso’s back as he gave it a small rub.
“man cut the bullshit. even yuji don’t let bitches do that shit. you should hear the sounds that be comin outta my guest room when he crashes here wit a some random broad from a party.” yuji covered his face in embarrassment, making his older brothers chuckle. choso felt if he were to tell anyone how life was at home, it would be the two knuckleheads he was raised with. a small smirk planted on his face, tattooed hands gripping his controller a little tighter as he spoke.
“if my girl ‘ran’ me, don’t you think she’d be doing whatever she wanted? when we go out, why do you think she rather sit by me than go shake her ass with her friends like she usually used t’do?” sukuna and yuji’s eyes widened, giving choso a shocked look before the two of them looked at each other.
quiet!choso who doesn’t need to talk for you to know what he’s trying to say. settling for stern looks and a tap on your thigh, ass if nobody’s looking, as a warning to get you to act right.
quiet!choso who sometimes had to use rougher tactics to correct you when you’re out of line.
“say it again” choso groaned, long girthy dick rearranging your guts as he held you up by your hair. “i w–won’t cuss at daddy” you moaned, back grazing his broad tattooed chest. wrists bound together by fuzzy grey cuffs as you dug your nails into your palms. you were so frustrated earlier that you may have let a couple curse words slip into your vocabulary while texting choso, but regardless of your instant apology, he told you to be stripped and ready for him in the bed by the time he got home from work. now you were paying for your disrespect through taking all 8.5 inches of him without complaint.
“say it louder mama. daddy can’t hear you clearly through all that moaning” choso chuckled as he listened to you whine, pretty breasts bouncing with every thrust as you tried to speak clearly for the fifth time tonight. “i won’t c-cuss at daddy ever again! fuck m’gonna cummm” he rolled his eyes, pace never faltering as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. choso’s inked hand abruptly let go of your hair, making a chuckle slip as he watched you fall to the bed with a huff, hands not able to stop you.
“now you cursing right at me. gon be here all night if you don’t clean it up princess”
#choso x black!reader#choso x black reader#jjk choso x black!reader#jjk choso x black reader#choso x black y/n#choso smut#jjk choso smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x black!reader#jjk choso#jjk smut
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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: eddie's got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn't stop you from picking up his call and eddie doesn't want to hang up either.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, really talkative reader & eddie (these two never shut up), lots of dirty talk, small innocence!kink, mentions to reader's body (only compliments, no descriptions), if i missed anything pls let me know.
word count: 3.4k — part two, part three
The deep coiling heat undulated through your entire body, fingers curling inside you at an angle that wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. That dull ache digging at you, like an annoying itch you couldn’t scratch. It felt close, yet so far of that you couldn’t even reach it. You sighed harshly, eyes drifting close in hopes that maybe it would help—anything, just some peace and quiet, forcing your mind to focus on the feeling of your body and nothing else, finger dipping into your the slick wetness of your cunt, dragging up slowly toward your clit—yes, that helped. You breathed deep, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, that familiar tinge of want and pleasure radiating throughout your entire body, building, and building—-
The bloodcurdling ring of your phone cuts through the air, nestled in the corner of your bedside table. You’ve never wanted to smash something into pieces so much in your entire life.
Who the fuck could be calling at this time of night?
You yank the phone from its resting place, cord wrapping around your wrist in the process, but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it. You lean over the bed slightly, settled onto your side, before answer with a very clipped:
“What?”
“Who pissed you off, princess?” Eddie fucking Munson.
It never failed.
“If you keep talking, it’s going to be you.” You retort, still mildly aware of the hand tucked between your legs, not touching anymore, but hovering, waiting for this painful phone call to end.
“Harsh.” Eddie replies, feigning a weak implication of hurt in his tone. “I just wanted to let you know that you grabbed my dice by mistake after the campaign tonight.”
Fuck. You squeezed your eyes closed, tapping the speaker of the phone against your head in frustration. You had been so quick to rush out of there today, you didn’t even think, blindly grabbing your shit and hightailing it home.
“And I hate to make a big deal about it, but those are my lucky dice.” He points out. You can’t help the eye roll that escapes you, Eddie could practically hear it through the phone.
“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You ask impatiently. The man was wasting precious time, time that you would be spending doing something much more enjoyable. “I’m busy.”
It comes out, a Freudian slip. You could’ve just assure him you’d bring them in the morning and the conversation would be null and void, but no; now Eddie was intrigued.
“Busy? It’s midnight—what the hell could you be busy with right now?” He asks, attempting to compile a list of reasons but coming up with a big fat goose egg.
“Sleeping, Eddie.” You deadpan.
“You don’t sound like it.” Eddie says honestly. “Wait, were you—“
“Eddie!” You yell, a desperate attempt to stop where this conversation was headed—but Eddie, ever the persistent.
“Ha!” He laughs, seemingly clapping his hands together over the phone, “I knew you weren’t so innocent—all that bullshit about never being kissed and—“
“Ed-die,” You stress, begging him to tone down the teasing. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed, everything you’d told him was true. You hadn’t explored much outside of yourself—you know your body best and that was all that mattered. Why did you even need the help?
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, really. If I had known, I would’ve just waited until tomorrow.”
“There’s no way you could’ve, dipshit.” Eddie snorts at the nickname, savoring the bite in your tone. “Besides, it helps me sleep.”
“Shit, me too.” He laughs softly and you can’t help but laugh either, though it only lasts a few seconds before you’re mentally shoving your hand over your mouth, begging your brain to process shit before it comes out of your mouth. “It’s not that easy, is it? Trying to concentrate and everything.”
Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, wondering why he hadn’t just hung up the phone. But, he continues; you can’t help but listen.
“Not when I have meatheads like you bothering me,” You snark, the dull ache in your cunt still hadn’t settled, and you really hated yourself for your next move, but it was necessary.
Your finger rubs over your clit gently, slow enough that you can keep your composure, but allow just enough relief that it wasn’t bothering you as much.
“Not a meathead—That’s reserved for Jason and his band of assholes.” You could appreciate his mutual distaste, feeling bad for stacking him in with them.
“Sorry.” You meant it.
“It’s fine, princess.”
You’re so used to the term that it really shouldn’t bother you, it hardly ever does, but with your hands down your underwear, attempting to work yourself through a desperately needed orgasm, you couldn’t help but play it in your head, the sound of his voice, like a tape on repeat.
And this felt so wrong, but Eddie noticed your prolonged silence. He leans into it, nudging you further.
“Do you need help?” He asks innocently, his voice remaining it’s normal bravado, but you can feel the anticipation in the way he waits for your answer.
“With touching myself?” You ask boldly; what a night this was turning into. “I think I’m good on that.”
“No with, you know, getting there.” He says coyly and you can hear the should shrug through the phone, the way his head tilts to the side innocently. “I can help, if you want.”
“You wanna help me orgasm?” You ask, still gathering what little sanity you had left for the night. “Over the phone?”
“Sure,” He says easily. This didn’t feel real and maybe you were having some fucked up dream you’d wake up from any moment; another weird sex dream, albeit almost always involving your one particular friend, who just so happened to be on the other line offering up his services, selflessly, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”
And why wouldn’t you be? Aside from the potential awkwardness of having to face Eddie at school after this, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea—and Eddie was never the type to shove a situation like this back in your face, he knew your boundaries. Plus, you’d kill him if he ever did.
“Okay,” You agree, voice hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Shit, okay.” He answers, half-expecting you to back out.
You doubled down, “I don’t have a lot of time, so make it quick.”
Quick. Eddie could do quick—except he’s never done this before and has no idea what to say or do, he was going in blind.
“Uh, well,” He laughs at the absurdity of the upcoming question, “what are you wearing?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, glancing over the outfit you were wearing. “Does it matter?”
“Not really,” He answers truthfully, “if it helps, I’m only in my boxerw—you know those ones you like to make fun of, they’re got the bats all over them.”
You laugh at the memory, Eddie bent over in front of you during Hellfire a few months back, moving some of the boxes full of theatre costumes since the group was forced to share a room and the other kids refused to put their stuff away properly. “How cute.” You'd told him and Eddie’s face burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, only pulling his pants up higher.
It was an interesting visual, you couldn’t lie. “Uh, I’m in my underwear, too—and a, uh, shirt.”
“Which one?” He asks curiously.
“Um, Hellfire, that black one. I think it's yours, actually.” Somehow that felt like the most scandalous part about all of this, being coached through your orgasm by not only your resident dungeon master, but someone who you consider a friend, “It’s nothing crazy, sorry.”
“No, no,” Eddie interrupts quickly, “That’s fine—are you—are you touching yourself, right now?”
Eddie’s free hand is resting over his boxers, palming at his growing bulge, not as satisfying as he wants it to be.
“Yeah,” You nod without thinking, feeling ridiculous after the fact, “For a while now.”
That slow, tantalizing pace you had on your clit wasn’t helping. You clear your throat, pressing harder. “You can touch yourself, too—if you want, I mean. I won’t mind.” Your face is hot with embarrassment, but it didn’t feel fair; he should be able to enjoy it too.
Eddie can feel his dick twitch against his hand, the idea of you having already been touching yourself before he even suggested anything; not that he had planned any of this, it was completely spur of the moment, but he couldn’t help himself now. “I am,” He replies after a beat, “I’m just touching myself over my boxers—kinda sucks, though.”
“Oh,” Your voice lilts, feeling that small tinge in your gut at the sight of Eddie holding his dick in his hands—you’ve never seen it before, nothing to compare it to or imagine, but still; you were picturing it, “Well, maybe you should actually touch yourself, you know? It only seems fair.”
Eddie exhales slowly, fingers shoving under the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of himself—it’s the first time he’s touched himself all week and he was in over his head, this was a terrible idea.
“God,” He sighs, falling back against his pillow, phone tucked firmly between his shoulder and ear, tugging gently at his shaft, “do you—you have anything you think about?”
“Not really,” You lie, “I just kinda—do it.” You lie again.
Eddie laughs softly, the soft sounds of his creaking bed frame were faint, but you could still hear them. It was the only thing you could think about; Eddie spread out, hands down the front of his boxers, tugging at his dick like his life depended on it.
You circle your clit absently, finger sliding down to dip inside of you. You mewl softly, letting the sound pass through your lips.
“What about you, Eddie?” And it shocks you, realizing it’s the first time you’ve said his name since you’ve started this dangerous back and forth. It comes out broken, wrapped snugly in that blissful pleasure you were trying to reach and Eddie hears it—the curse under his breath a telltale sign that he was just as wound up as you.
“Got a lot, too much to describe—never as good as the real thing, you know,” Eddie says absently, his hand an insistent tug at his cock, swelling to full hardness in his hands. He wipes the pad of his thumb over the slit, the small bit of precum helping ease the slide down, “there’s so much you’re missing out on, princess.”
Your virginity was never a main topic of conversation and Eddie didn’t make it a big deal either, but he knows how inexperienced you are outside of your own body; he wants you to enjoy it, wants you to experience how good it can feel.
“Wanna tell me about it?” You ask innocently, the pitch of your voice picking up on a certain stroke of your finger, palm dragging against your clit.
“I can’t speak for women, but for men—it’s pretty fucking good,” He starts, occasional gasps peaking through his voice, “it’s warm and wet and really tight, sometimes when they squeeze down on us—uh, it’s good. So fucking good.” Eddie tries not to sound too crass or dirty, afraid it might scare you away.
You laugh softly, his unique way of describing things never fails to surprise you, “What’s your favorite? You like when—when girls go down on you?” It’s really just curiosity, your mind racing through a million different thoughts.
Eddie huffs out a small chuckle, stopping to—what you could only guess—spit on his hand, and that had you clenching around your own fingers. It felt primal, in a way. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But I, uh, like going down on a girl more—I got off once to it.”
And it shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but goddamn if you weren't interested in hearing all about that. All common sense out of the window, you ask, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, his voice still unnaturally calm, “I was younger, but it was nice—she made all these noises, pulled my hair too hard—I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but then she came while I still going down on her and it just happened.”
You sigh softly, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like,” You admit openly, “something other than my hand, it’s gotta be good, right?”
“You’ve really never done anything?” Eddie asks hesitantly—it didn’t feel judgmental, Eddie was curious; half leaning toward delirious from his sleep-deprived state.
“Never even kissed anyone, Eddie.” You say regretfully, hand stopping for a moment. “But, I’m not clueless—I’ve just never had any first hand experience.
There was a long pause, your breath catching in your throat. You can hear him on the other line, but it’s muffled. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah,” He sounds a little breathless, “I was getting ahead of myself, had to slow down a bit—“
“Oh.” It’s small, feeble in the way you answer him.
“You still touching yourself?”
You nod again, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah—I am. I can’t focus, though—that’s been my problem all night.”
A problem that Eddie had just the remedy for.
“Do you trust me?” He asks and your answer is instant, not a single worry in your mind.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Close your eyes,” You take a small breath, letting your eyelids fall shut, “Tell me what feels the best.”
You breathe, allowing the fear of embarrassment shed from your body, losing yourself in the conversation fully. “Uh, fingers help a little—but, this is hard to do with one hand, I usually have two, that way I can cover all my bases.”
Eddie snorts at that, a smile spread across his face. “Just squeeze the phone against your shoulder,” You quickly maneuver it, shoved properly up by your ear, allowing your other hand to reach down and touch your clit properly, fingers an inconsistent rhythm as they pump into you, still, you can’t stifle the needy moan that slips out.
“Okay,” You sound shaky, “That’s—that’s a lot better.”
You feel like it’s going to be too bold of a question and Eddie would run away immediately, but you’re too fucking curious not to ask, since he was literally jerking off on the other end—it seemed like a perfectly fair question to ask.
“Do you—What do girls usually say about—you?” It was the worst way to approach the question, but Eddie isn’t too bad at realizing the context.
“Are you asking what my dick looks like?”
He couldn’t believe this shit was happening.
“Yeah, maybe.” You answer sheepishly, “Like I said, nothing to compare.”
Eddie grins, eyes scanning over his own dick briefly.
“Uh, it’s about eight inches, give or take.” He offers, “You could definitely fit both of your hands around it, if you tried.”
There’s a beat of silence, Eddie feeling like he fucked up—it slipped out, it wasn’t a suggestion; not the he didn’t want your hands around his dick, he’d be lying if he said that out loud.
You give a small noise of acknowledgment, feeling the heat coil in your stomach—surely you weren’t thinking about Eddie’s dick. But, of course you were. “Maybe we’ll have to try that out.” You say boldly, hoping that it would elicit some type of reaction from him.
“Fuck,” It definitely worked, “Yeah—yeah, maybe we could—I could even—even, go down on you, if you wanted.” He's too worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence.
“Yeah?” You breath, followed by a small moan from the drag of your slick covered finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves impatiently. “Think I could make you come?”
“With those pretty little noises?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’m a fucking goner.”
You laugh softly, choked out by the sound of your own desperate noises, the pace on your clit picking up, fingers moving on their own accord. You can’t even focus on the fingers inside of you anymore, moving a free hand toward your breasts, still slicked fingers catching against the soft bud of your nipple.
Eddie strokes himself faster, recklessly almost. He groans so loudly into the speaker that you almost lose it, phone slipping away from your ear.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Eddie asks, hazy from the grip he had at the base of his dick, desperate to keep from coming. His entire shtick was to help you, not himself; but he was failing miserably.
“Sorry, I almost dropped the phone.”
“Oh.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his voice.
“Shut up,” You exhale, returning yourself to the task at hand; regardless of Eddie’s smugness. “Thought you were supposed to make me come, not tease me all night.”
“Help you,” He corrects, “Not make you—though, I mean—that’s not totally off the table.”
“Eddie.” You warn.
“Right—I guess it’s not hard for me,” Eddie starts again, voice thick with want and tension, “All I have to do is think about you with your hands between your legs and those tits—god, they’re probably perfect, I haven’t seen them, but I know. I know.”
It was like he’d dialed everything up to ten, not bothering to hold back any longer, the pleasure taking away any filter he had.
He was thinking about you, of course—it made sense, but it didn’t snuff the pulse that grew between your legs, only making it much, much worse. Whatever line was drawn was crossed the moment you agreed to this, all bets were off.
“Wish it was your hands instead,” You respond wantonly, the pad of your finger rubbing quick, small circles against your clit, “they’re so much bigger than mine.”
You gasp, gripping desperately at the sheets beneath you, no doubt having soaked through the cover already from how wet you were, it was unlike anything you’ve felt before—it was better.
“Forget my hands—can’t get the sight of you sinking down onto my dick out of my head,” He admits earnestly, groaning through the quick tugs on his shaft, his tip leaking with a copious amount of precum, bring his hand back down to squeeze at the base. Eddie has never edged himself like this before, it was almost painful. Almost.
“I don’t think it’ll fit, Eddie.” The moan he lets out is loud, guttural—the sound of skin against skin louder than ever through the speaker, he’s close. “Is that what you want? To be my first?”
“Fuckfuck—yeah, I do.”
You can’t even think anymore, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
“Want you to ruin me, Eddie.”
He’s past the point of trying to keep himself quiet, openly moaning through the receiver, “Fuck—say my name again, please.”
And you do; again and again, your cunt spasming underneath your hand, reaching the precipice of what you had been dying for all night, his name a plea as it cut off into a desperate moan.
“Shit—I’m so close—.” Eddie growls lowly, his high hitting him almost immediately after, coming all over his chest and his sheets in shirt spurts, tugging harshly at his dick.
He’s never come so hard in his life.
“You’ve gotten a fucking mouth on you.” He says breathlessly, on the way down from his orgasm. “Would’ve never guessed.”
You smile warmly, hand slipping out of your underwear to rest against your stomach.
“You tell anyone and you’re dead,” You chide playfully, the beautiful feeling of sleep creeping up on you, “but thank you, Eddie, seriously.”
“Always at your service, princess.”
You laugh through your nose, the realization of your actions finally settling in. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right, either—though, you couldn’t be bothered to care now; all bets were off.
“I’m holding you to that, Munson.”
Eddie shrugs on the other end, unbeknownst to you. He wiped at the mess he’d made with his shirt, tossing it to the floor lazily. “So, not a one time thing then?” He asks hopefully.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
A pause, Eddie clears his throat.
"I still want my dice, by the way."
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x you#my writing#1kfic#5kfic
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The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 4.3k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.
Series Master List
Master List
Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves.
“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod.
“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”
“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did.
“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”
“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised.
“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”
“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat.
“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”
“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.”
“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice.
“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”
“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”
“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle.
“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”
“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought.
“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”
“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”
“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”
“I guess that’s an improvement.”
“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”
“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“So, you guys are talking about the future?”
“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”
“And how is that going?”
“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”
“Can I make an observation?”
“Sure.”
“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”
“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”
“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”
“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”
“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”
“Javy—”
“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”
“I’m just trying to protect her.”
“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”
“Why my mother?”
“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.”
“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”
~~~~~
You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual.
But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.
Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date.
- J
Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him.
“Morning. How was your run?”
“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”
“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”
“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him.
“So, what are we doing later then?”
“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”
“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower.
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in.
Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.
“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”
~~~~~
You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure.
“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”
“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”
You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road.
“It’s a surprise.”
“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat.
“It’s not too far.”
Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it.
“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else.
“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse.
The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them.
“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu.
“What are the top three?”
“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort.
“All in one sitting?”
“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”
“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders.
“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”
“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile.
“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”
“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned.
“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”
“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”
“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”
“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”
“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought.
“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”
“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back.
“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”
You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice.
“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”
“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”
You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot.
“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”
“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked.
“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car.
“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”
“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek.
“It could be.”
Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back.
“And my chances now?”
“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt.
Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own.
“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips.
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”
“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.
“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”
“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest.
You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him.
Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed.
“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels.
“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.
“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back.
You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest.
“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you.
“Okay.”
You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest.
Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile.
“Are you alright?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”
“I haven’t lost my touch then?”
“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips.
After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you.
“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him.
Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.
You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”
“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”
Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.
~~~~~
When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true.
“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention.
“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.
Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.”
“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”
“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.”
“How slight?”
“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.”
“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork.
A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him.
“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”
“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.”
“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.”
“Yes, sir.”
~~~~~
You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them.
Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .
You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it?
Jake got a card from his mom.
Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home.
Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone.
And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.
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Not Your Type: Part 1
Jake Seresin x Goth Girl!Reader
Summary: Jake Seresin doesn't usually have to try hard to get women, but the only woman to catch his attention in a long time doesn't want anything to do with him.
Notes/Warnings: Jake is annoying in this part. Unwanted flirting. This is a series, but it will be more like glimpses into their lives over time. Cursing. Eventually 18+
Words: 1269
Not Your Type Masterlist
Day 1: Meeting
“Holy shit.”
Bradley finishes his swig of beer before following his teammate's locked stare. Chuckling as he shakes his head, he says, “Don’t even bother.”
Jake’s eyes don’t waver from the woman who has snatched his attention quicker than a snap of the fingers. “Why not? She–”
“Deserves to be spared from your bullshit,” Bradley interrupts. “You pull a lot of shit on a lot of women, do you really think it’s a good idea to fuck with one that looks like she’ll cast some sort of spell on you?”
The blond’s head turns and tilts to keep his view of the woman covered in black from head to toe as she moves through the crowd. “I’m not so sure she hasn’t already.”
“Jesus,” Bradley mutters, putting the bottle to his lips again. He rolls his eyes at Jake’s lack of blinking while watching her take a seat at the bar. “Goth princess over there is not going to want anything to do with you. You look like a shiny, private school douchebag. You are a shiny, private school douchebag.”
“What do you think the chances are she’s into that?”
“Zero. Did you not just hear me?”
Finally, green eyes meet brown. “You know, you could take a lesson from Bob and be a little more supportive.”
Bradley snickers, nudging his head the woman’s way. “I give it five minutes and you’ll be limping back over here with your tail between your legs.”
Jake pats the brunet on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Any time.”
—
Out of the chaos of melding sounds, it’s the scrape of a stool over hardwood flooring that manages to stand out. Surrendering your effort to separate one voice from another, you open your eyes to see in your peripherals that the stool—the stool that was right next to you; the stool that was perfectly satisfied being vacant—has been disturbed. It was unmoving and empty, as you liked it, and now it’s occupied, as you do not like it. A knee nearly bumps yours as a body shifts to get comfortable, but it’s pulled back in time to avoid the collision.
With arms braced on the bartop, the man now beside you leans forward a bit to place himself in your line of vision; not fully, but enough for you to detect a hint of blond hair and tanned skin and pearly white teeth.
“Hi,” he says. When you glance his way, his eyes gleam, emphasizing the sparkling flecks within the green. “I’m Jake.”
“Is that so.”
Your lips thin in unenthused acknowledgment and you return your attention to your fingers twisting the stem of your martini glass. The black lip print on the rim makes two full rotations before he opens his mouth again.
“Are you waiting on somebody?” he asks. “A date, maybe?”
“No,” you tell him, immediately cursing yourself for providing him with an answer.
Somehow his grin gets bigger. Too wide, too radiant, too confident. He’s too squeaky clean for your taste. “What’s your name?”
You take a sip of your drink and let the entirety of it, aftertaste included, disappear completely before you say, “What could you possibly need my name for?”
“Should I just call you Hot Goth Princess instead?” He smirks. “I’m not against it if that’s what you want, but it’s less personal than I prefer.”
This guy wants your full attention—well, he’s got it. Your brows knit and you shoot him a glare. “No, you should not call me Hot Goth Princess,” you snap.
You don’t know his game, but you know you’re not interested. You’re not interested partly because he should not be interested in you. There’s a type that goes after you; dark, brooding, with tattoos that were done in a dirty garage after getting high. However, you won’t deny there are striking similarities in what attracts you to those men and what this man also possesses. The light eyes, the bone structure, the neat hair and the muscles thick enough to rip the short sleeves of a shirt. He ticks plenty of the boxes on your superficial checklist, but he’s also the antithesis of everything you are. If he weren’t showing signs of being the jerk you think he is, he’d be sunshine-bright to an irritatingly blinding degree; and you weren’t called Vampire Girl by some preteen brats the other day for no reason.
“How would you like it if I called you Over-Confident Ken Doll?”
You don’t back away when he leans in a little closer. “Sweetheart, if that’s what turns you on I’d be all for it.”
Your eyes narrow. “How does this work on other women?” you ask.
“What other women?”
That green gaze slowly roams about your face, lingering on your mouth the longest. He stares and after a moment, you think he’s gotten lost. He stares like he wants to lick the midnight hue right off of your lips. He stares as other men have stared; their minds wandering, undoubtedly imagining what a black ring of lipstick would like around their cocks.
“I only see you,” he says.
He meets your eyes again and in return you roll yours so hard you have a brief moment of concern that they might stay that way. “That is the biggest batch of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”
He blinks and flinches, drifting a few inches out of your personal space. “What do you mean?”
A scoff leaves your mouth. “I’m not your type, Sweetheart.”
“You’re not?”
You turn in your seat, facing him.
“It’s Jake, right?” He nods, and you don’t miss the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple. “Well, Jake, I’m not new around here. I’m a regular, actually, and you know what? You’ve not noticed me before tonight. Not once. But I've noticed you. You’re loud and arrogant and it’s a very specific type of woman that flocks to you.” Your hand plants on your chest directly above your heart. “I am not that type of woman. So whatever this is that you’re doing,” you say, motioning between your body and his, “I don’t buy it.”
Either he’s not quick enough to come up with a logical response or you’ve stunned him into silence. He doesn’t say a thing when you twist back around in your seat and finish off your drink in one gulp, but his eyes on your face are burning.
“Don’t waste my time,” you continue, “Or risk having your ego bruised further.”
The silence between you lasts too long, edging its way into awkward territory. Thankfully, he breaks it.
“Alright,” he mutters. He clears his throat and stands. “Sorry.”
You avoid looking his way until he’s far enough for a few bodies to partially block your view of him and the friend he joins. The friend laughs as Jake runs a hand through his hair. Still laughing, he says something, and Jake gives a defeated shrug of his slightly slumped shoulders before you see him start to turn his head.
You whip around, hoping he doesn’t catch you watching him. His eyes linger again and they burn you just as strongly as they did when he was within twelve inches of your face; which means you feel the exact second he looks away.
Releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in your lungs, you glance over at him one last time, but it’s the friend who greets you. He smirks at you, then he chuckles and shakes his head. When he pats the shoulder of a hunched-over Jake, you suddenly feel a little bad.
But not that bad.
A/N: Please understand that Jake’s behavior in this fic is not something I condone. I know he’s a bit too aggressive but it is not my intention to offend anyone. So hopefully I didn't. Thanks for reading :)
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @ssa-sadboi @buckysteveloki-me @whatislovevavy @dreamlandcreations
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun#jake hangman seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x y/n#top gun hangman#tgm#tgm fic#jake seresin x goth girl!reader#goth girl!reader#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fanfiction
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someday || Joel Miller x Reader
summary: You're sick and tired of being strong in this world.
warnings: angst/fluff, hurt comfort, tlou stuff so blood, killing, etc. The reader has some self deprecating thoughts.
a/n: I am once again using Joel as therapy. I could not survive the tlou world. As much as i would want to be a badass I would probably just cry a lot aksdfjl.
“Hurry up!” Joel snapped as you took cover among the bushes.
You wince as your knees scrape against the ground, blood trickling down your leg. Joel harshly grabs your arm as you hear loud footsteps approaching you.
“Where the fuck did they go!” You hear a man say.
His heavy boots snapping twigs as he walks. Joel would say he’s an idiot. One of the typical egotistical raiders who think their brute strength could solve anything. Joel’s grip gets harsher as they get closer. His other hand fiddles with his gun.
A heavy pit forms in your stomach. That same sickly horrible feeling that you always get when your life is in danger. Which happens often in this world.
You hate it. Hate what the world has become. Hate what you’ve become to survive. Shutting off all emotions so you can live. Killing people who are just trying to survive, just like you.
Joel springs into action, pulling out his rifle and shooting one of your attackers square in the face. Too wrapped up in your own head you don’t notice one of them fire at you.
“Shit!” You hiss as Joel tackles you to the ground.
The bullet whizzing past you. You start to apologize but Joel doesn’t care. He gets up and fires a few shots, letting you scramble to your feet and pull out your gun.
These guys are easy to take care of. They don’t bother trying to hide which makes them easy targets. Your brain shuts off as you put yet another bullet into someone, taking their life. Leaving them dead on the forest floor.
Once they’re all dead you just stand there. Reciting the same bullshit you tell yourself. You had to do this. It’s you or them. This is how things are now.
“Let’s go.” Joel says gruffly.
Not even bother to check on you before walking back towards Jackson. It makes your blood boil. Anger bubbling out of you with every step. You’re sick of it. Sick of living in this world. Sick of being strong and brave. Ellie calls you a badass but fuck what you wouldn’t give to go back to your life before the outbreak.
You’ve never said a word to Joel or Ellie about it. Joel, well he’s Joel. He’s the brooding tough guy. The provider. The keeps to himself kind of guy. As stereotypical as it sounds, he’s kept you alive so you owe him. He taught you how to shoot after finding you all on your own. Trying to make it to the QZ.
You know he’s lost a lot too. Everyone has, so what makes you so special? Why should you get to feel the way you do when it’s not nearly as bad as what some people have been through? The walk is silent as you approach the gates of the town. At least you have a bed now, a house with running water and food.
“Want to tell me what happened out there?” Joel asks as you get closer to the town. You clench your jaw and stay quiet. He’s not happy, he’s pissed. You fucked up. You don’t need him to tell you that.
“Hey, I’m talking to you.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and you rip it off you.
“I fucked up alright? I’m sorry.” You stomp ahead of him, not wanting a fucking Joel lecture right now.
“You’re sorry? You could have gotten killed.” Joel won’t let it go, he never lets it go.
“Just fuck off! Okay I get it. I don’t need you to tell me that. Sorry we can’t all be like you.” You storm through the gates, ignoring the looks from the townspeople.
“The hell does that mean?” He grabs your shoulders and forces you to face him. His face turned into a scowl, like he’s trying to puff himself up to make him bigger, scarier. Well fuck him.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fucking live like this. Killing people without even blinking, pretending it doesn’t get to me. I’m…I’m over it.” You shove his hands off you and storm into town.
“Hey!” Joel tries to come after you but you weave your way through the crowd of people.
Until his voice is drowned out and he can’t see you anymore. You don’t know how long you’ve been away. You just kept walking and walking until you found a seemingly abandoned house. You climb onto the roof and just, sit. Feelings of shame come over you as you think back to your argument.
On one hand it’s embarrassing to admit that you aren’t cut out for this world, maybe Joel agrees. Maybe he thinks he should have left you for dead. You promised him you’d be strong. That you could handle this. You were wrong.
But, a part of you is proud. Proud that you’ve finally gotten it off your chest. Keeping it buried for so long only made it worse.
“Hey.” You hand grabs your knife as you spin around and hold it up.
“Dammit Joel,” You mutter as you lower your hand. He comes and sits next to you. Grunting as he tries to get comfortable. He doesn’t talk. He tries, but he doesn’t know how to.
“I uh, I talked to Maria. Said she could take you off patrol for as long as you need.” You sigh and lean against the house.
“It’s not about patrol Joel. It’s…” You look down at your hands, playing with the knife as you gather your thoughts.
“I’m tired.”
“Well I’m sure its alright if you sleep in tomorrow.”
“No Joel, I mean I’m tired of everything. I’m sick of being strong. I’m not a strong person. I tried for so long, but I just want to be happy again.” Tears silently stream down your cheeks as you reveal your deepest kept secret to Joel.
"Do you ever think about what life would be like if this never happened? I think about it a lot." You admit.
“I know I promised you I’d be strong but…I can’t do it anymore. I know it’s selfish but..” You missed the world before all of this.
You don’t want to fight for every meal or kill people anymore. You want to wake up in a warm bed and have breakfast with your family. You wish your biggest problem was how boring your job was.
“It’s not selfish.” Joel says.
“I think about that too. I miss life before this. I miss a lot about it.” You lean against this shoulder. The two of you thinking of life before this, what life would have been if this never happened.
“You said you weren’t strong, but I disagree.” You look at Joel, waiting for him to continue.
“I think you’re plenty strong. It’s not weak to want your old life back. It’s not weak to feel the way you do about everything. Everyday you prove how strong you are just by being here.” Joel doesn’t sugarcoat anything. He doesn’t believe in sparing feelings so you know that he’s not lying. Maybe he’s not just talking to you either.
“Thank you Joel.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.
His lips gently press against your forehead. Maybe someday you’ll go back to the life you remember. It won’t be the same and that’s okay.
As long as you keep going, one day at a time.
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remind me why we're taking a break
ex-bf jungwon x fem. reader
sypnosis you both are taking a break - genre fluff, exes? to lovers - warnings a lil makeout session - wc 0,6k
a/n. hii, i'm still alive wohoo so i got a bit inspired by touch it by ariana grande but it's nothing like the song lol, anyways have fun reading it woop woop.
“remind me again why you two broke up?” Sunoo asks, Jungwon pops his head up from the cafeteria table which he was slumped over
“we didn’t broke up, we’re just taking a break”
“i for sure hope you both get your asses back together cause the amount of complains i got from each of you is ridiculous” hearing his response had Jungwon ears perk up
“each of us? you mean?”
“of course i mean her who fucking else?”
“what is she saying about this uhm situation?”
“not gonna tell you, you should go to her and talk things out cause taking a break is a shitty excuse for chickening out of your realationship problems”
“well no need to call us out Sunoo” fake smiling at him
“all i'm saying is, if i hear another i miss her/him i'm gonna burn something up, definetly not because i'm too single for this shit but you both need each other so please make the first move cause we both know how stubborn Y/n can be”
nodding and standing up full of motivation “you’re right this is bullshit, i will go to her and talk things out, damn Sunoo didn’t know you are a motivation coach”
“you’re welcome now get your girl” nodding his head with dedication in his eyes, turning around searching for you.
you were leaning on your locker while talking to your friend until she fell silent and wiggled her eyebrows at you saying “target on six o’clock”, turning around to see what she’s on about..
..your eyes going wide when you see him to slow to think where to go when he already has your hand interlocked with his, dragging you into an empty classroom, shutting the door and locking it
he turns around seeing you looking around the classroom nervously playing with your fingers
“let’s talk y/n”
“about what?”
“us”
“we’re on break just like you wanted it” you state looking at him confused
he shakes his head “i didn’t want that. never.” he walks to you, standing centimeters away from each other
“but you said-”
he takes your hands into his running his thumbs over your soft skin
“i know what i said but i just said that cause i thought you would say we should break up so i suggested taking a break, and then you suddenly said yes which had my heart acatually break” staring at him like you just saw a ghost damn this was such a misunderstanding
“are you aware that you actually never let me finish my sentence that day?”
“what you mean?” looking at you with his boba eyes
“we should breath first and calm ourselves down? thats what i wanted to say but you asumed that the word breath would be the word break"
staring at you, mouth wide open in shock “you gotta be kidding” shaking your head “but why did you say yes when i said we should take a break?”
“cause i didn’t want to lose you...” making his heart flutter “...i was afraid that if i wouldn’t say yes you would break up with me”
shaking his head, grabbing your waist tugging you into him, lips not far away from yours
“god i'm so sorry for misunderstanding this i really should learn to let you finish your sentences..” putting his hands underneath your shirt kneading your skin lovingly
“..please tell me we’re done with this cause i'm going crazy without you and we can’t keep bothering Sunoo with it cause he said he would burn something up if he would hear one of us complain again”
nodding and giggling while you tug him down by his shirt to finally kiss him, him immediately responsing and grabbing each of your legs wrapping them around his waist walking to a table letting you sit on it
trailing his lips down to your neck up to your cheeks your nose and your mouth again
cupping one of your cheeks while the other tucks your hair behind your ear, looking at your dazed state “god i love you”
whispering against his lips “love you too”
#enhypen#enha#enhypen ff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen story#enhypen x reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#yang jungwon#jungwon#jungwon x y/n#jungwon x reader#jungwon scenarios#jungwon imagines#jungwon x you#jungwon fanfic#jungwon fluff#enhypen fluff#heeseung imagines#jay imagines#jake imagines#sunghoon imagines#sunoo imagines#niki imagines#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop story
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RIP Mike Wheeler’s heterosexuality
“Is being gay contagious?”
Steve stares at his phone groggily before putting it back against his ear. “…Mike?”
“Is it?”
“It’s three in the fuckin’ morning is what it is.” He rubs his nose, Mike’s words finally catching up to his brain. “Seriously, Mike? No it’s not fucking contagious, you’re not gonna get the gay disease or whatever from me. I promise you’ll keep liking girls.”
He’s a little hurt, even though he knows the question is innocent. They’ve been asking a lot of questions, like the inquisitive little assholes they are, but none of them had seemed like they weren’t okay with it. Until now.
“…that’s not what I meant,” Mike says. Steve realizes that his voice sounds shaky, even over the phone.
“Then what—“ he cuts himself off, realizing halfway through his bitching that there was only one reason Mike would call about this. “Oh.”
“Can you pick me up?”
“It’s three in the morning,” he repeats, even as he starts wondering where he left his keys. “Your mom…”
“Steve,” Mike pleads. “Please?”
He sighs. “I’m on my way.”
Mike is sitting on his doorstep when he pulls up, head in his hands. Steve doesn’t have to get out of the car, he stalks to the passenger door with all the vitriol of a boy with too many emotions to hold in, and wrenches the door open hard enough that Steve worries he’s going to break it.
“Watch it, noodle arms,” he says, trying to pretend this is normal. Maybe if he acts like it’s not well past midnight, Mike will relax.
It doesn’t work. Mike slumps in his seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. “Can you just drive?”
Steve drives. Doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. Just away seems to suffice.
He eventually pulls into a side road
“I’m scared to even touch another guy now! Because apparently hugging is gay when you’re older, and so is sleeping in the same bed, and telling your friends you love them, and…and I’m fucking scared all the time, ‘cause what if they’re right? How do they know? How can they tell by just fucking looking at me? It’s bullshit!”
“Shit, kid,” Steve says, heartbroken. “Shit. C’mere.”
He pulls him close, and Mike turns his face into the crook of his neck, shaking. His shirt collar starts to get damp.
“I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I thought it was normal, I thought everyone was just…so scared all the time, and we just didn’t talk about it. But then you said that thing about being afraid and pushing it down, and I didn’t— I tried to ignore it. I tried so hard not to think about it, Steve, I swear I tried.”
“I know you did,” he says quietly. It hits him that he might be the only one who really gets it. Eddie gave up denying it long ago, deciding to evolve into something else for them to focus on. Robin’s a girl. Which doesn’t mean jack shit in most cases, because being a lesbian fucking sucks in a town like Hawkins, but girls aren’t as obsessive about it. Sometimes when they compare notes, Robin will just stare at him.
Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve says with a surprising amount of vehemence. He grabs Mike by his scrawny little shoulders, pulls him away so he can look directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Not a damn thing, do you hear me? There is nothing wrong with you, and anyone who tells you otherwise deserves a swift kick in the balls. Got it?”
Mike responds by bursting into loud, messy sobs.
Steve just keeps holding him, running a hand through his hair and soothing him gently, like he wishes someone had done for him or Robin or Eddie when they were young. Finally Mike pulls away, embarrassment starting to set in.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asks instead of a meaningless platitude he knows Mike wouldn’t accept.
Mike gives him a suspicious look. “I guess.”
“I’m scared too. All the time.”
“No you’re not,” Mike snorts. “You don’t need to make me feel better just because I’m a pussy.”
“I’m not joking,” he says. “Why do you think I dated girls? Why do you think I went through so many lengths to hide it? It’s fucking terrifying, man. But you know what makes it less scary?”
“Dating girls? Marrying a woman?”
“No.” He pokes Mike’s chest, right over his heart. “People. Friends who love and accept you. Friends who know what you’re going through, even.”
“Do you…” Mike chews his lip. “Do you think Nancy would be okay with it? With me?”
“Absolutely I do. She was okay with me, wasn’t she? And I was her boyfriend.”
“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your family, right? Sometimes people don’t care if someone is… people don’t care until it affects them. Do you think Nancy is like that?”
He knows Nancy isn’t like that, but that's a talk they’re going to have to have themselves. “I really don’t,” he encourages. “I think she’d be really glad to know this part of you, actually. She loves you.”
“…I know,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t… we made this dumb no secrets pact the first time the Upside-Down happened, I don’t know why. It’s stupid. But…I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore.”
#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington#mike wheeler#lavender overload au#this is part of my finished fic where Steve and Robin get married#Mike can be read as gay or bi here#Mike and Steve is an underrated dynamic and I love them being friends#‘oh but mike hates steve-‘ WRONG. mike hates that he wants his sisters dumb idiot ex boyfriends approval#like don’t get me wrong I do think he hated Steve at one point#but after he protected them from Billy I think it went out the window#and now he begrudgingly thinks steve is cool. and HATES it#the funniest moment in all of stranger things is when Steve called Mike Nancy while concussed#and Mike gave him the most disgusted insulted face imaginable#i laughed so hard
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ACITHYCS.
“a crack in the heart you call stone” (john wick/fem reader)
Running away from John Wick is never a good idea.
TW: nsfw, noncon, dead dove, abuse, violence, power dynamics except the reader doesn’t have any power, smacking, spanking, choking, rough, awful shit. Your assassin sweetheart is not sweet in this. He’s fucked in the head, but I mean it is your fault.
It was a really, really, really.
Really.
Bad fucking idea.
Bad fucking idea to turn cottontail and run away in the night.
Run from him.
But you did, didn’t you? Maybe because you didn’t realize what a stupid decision you were making, maybe because you were too scared to stay, maybe because you didn’t know what else to do.
Maybe because running away from monsters is the standard of sane and you needed to prove that you were not crazy.
“That’s bullshit,” you know he’d say, “your decisions are your own and you will deal with their consequences.”
And, oh fuck, you haven’t heard his voice in so long - that sweet honey heroin aphrodisiac infused growl - but somehow little drops of it still sit sticky inside your ears.
Your cotton panties feel uncomfortable and clingy, and you have to squirm several times in your seat to pull fabric from damp folds.
That’s the worst part, the one that makes you want to put a 9 mm barrel in your mouth because surely - guaranteed - you’re sick in the head for almost - ha, who are you kidding - for definitely - wanting him to find you.
Insane after all, even through the trouble to prove otherwise.
You shouldn’t get out of the cab, you shouldn’t walk upstairs to your apartment, you shouldn’t open the already unlocked door, you shouldn’t start curling your toes and burning when you see him casually sitting at your dining table, drinking a cold beer and eating leftover pizza. Like he just belongs here, in the life you picked specifically void of him.
He ignores you, favoring the newspaper clutched in his fist, munching and relaxing and as handsome as any husband should strive to be.
You take the chair opposite from him and press your thighs together in anticipation of that involuntary, awful clench of your cunt when his broody eyes meet yours. You try to rest your hands on the table, but pull them back into your lap when you notice they are visibly shaking.
“John.” You’re surprised you can talk through the saliva filling your mouth.
“Hello, honey,” he says, then kicks the table out of the way and muffles your scream with the loud crash into the kitchen counter. No barrier between the two of you now - really, you’re a fucking idiot to think anything could keep this beautiful, horrifying human wrecking ball away from you - and he fists the loose fabric dress over your tummy and tugs you forward.
“You know what happens now?” He asks, terrifying you with a smile.
You blink owlishly up at him, tears globbing on your bottom lashes, body shaking violently, and ask: “wh-what?”
Instead of answering, he grabs your throat, takes you off your feet and slams you - not gently - against the wall. Picture frames smash to the ground, scatter glass over the linoleum. One minute you’re breathing, and the next you’re wondering what delicious air even tastes like.
You claw at his hands, face swelling up and turning a shade of beautiful blue that grabs his cocks attention - the length of him fattens up against your tummy and he grinds into your soft, plump skin, hard and unforgiving.
There’s black hellfire in his eyes, a dark promise to make you sorry for your miserable little John-free existence, and, for a second, you resign to the notion that he is going to keep his iron grip around your suffocating throat until you pass out. Your vision is already blurring and darkening, claws scratching pitifully at his arms. A little woodland creature in a big bear trap.
But, he lets you go, dropping you right on the hard floor, and you land on your ass, gasping for air, face soaked from tears, dress ripped down the middle. He jams his pointy shoe in between your legs, pressing the tip into your cunt, hurting you.
“John, please,” you whimper through grit teeth, trying to push his leg away and only getting a big black dress shoe crushing your pussy as reward.
Your head flips back, neck craning just enough to put agonizing tension on your scalp and spine. His fist nets what feels like every tearing hair on your head, and you can’t help but screech in pain.
“Please,” he repeats, voice eerily calm even as he’s shoving his fingers down your throat and making you choke. He pulls out and leaves thick white spit dripping onto your pouty lips and chin. He smears the excess on your cheek and smiles down at you - almost lovingly - “you’re begging already? Fucking pathetic.” His foot digs deeper into you and you let out a cry, proving his point. You are pathetic.
“Oh, I missed this tight little cunt,” he sighs and closes his eyes as if talking to himself. “Thought about her every fucking day.”
“John, I’m sorry, I-“
“Shut up.” He slaps you on the cheek, hard enough to leave a big red welt, then lugs you up by your hair. He doesn’t bother to move his leg, so your bare skin scrapes raw on the rough fabric of his pants. “The only thing that’s gonna come out of that pretty mouth from now on is ‘yes, John.’”
He spins you around, manhandles you onto the counter, presses his cock into the cotton of your panties and slaps your ass harder than he had done to your face. He watches your plump jiggle and retract, wets his lips, grunts. “Did you hear me, babydoll?” He slaps the same spot, and you yelp and claw at the counter.
“Yes, John.” The phone is right beside your head, you see the screen light up with worried texts from your friends, asking if you’re home yet. You could try and pick it up, call someone, dial 911, but this is John, and you know there’s not a chance in hell you could touch that phone without him crushing it in one grip.
“Oh?” He sees where your eyes are, of course he does. He’s a fucking lethal predator, and you’re just a stupid girl. “You wanna call somebody to come save you? Do it. Call them. But you’re gonna watch attentively while I kill them all, I can promise you that, honey.”
Fat wet tears run down your cheeks and puddle on the counter. You can’t help but feel partially responsible for the crazed, lightless black fire in his eyes. The way he’s completely gone and fucked in the head. No, not partially. This is all your fault. You drove him to madness, left him with a broken heart that turned black and rotten over time, and now you’re gonna deal with the repercussions.
He grinds up against your cunt and ass, so smashed in that you feel his plump cock head chafing your clit. He tugs on your hair to bring your face off the counter. “My little cry baby’s gonna be sobbing a lot more often, now.” He tsks as if disappointed.
He slaps your ass for a good bit, alternating each cheek, using the tips of his fingers to make the sting unbearable. You almost move your hands to cover the raw red skin, but he tugs your head back harshly in warning.
You whimper and put your hands back on the cool counter, wishing it was your ass instead - the tissue is on fire, a new level of burning every time his hand meets your flesh.
His palm is worse than his fingertips. It’s a throbbing pain that shoots over your back, legs, and tummy, and he gets you screaming with a big, ruthless swing. Screaming and crying and kicking your feet and biting your lip hard enough to taste pennies.
Sharp slaps on your plump little cunt turn you into a sobbing, begging wreck of a human. Then, he pulls your panties to the side and pinches your burning labia, tugging and stretching, making it snap and swell.
“She missed my cock, huh? How many times did you try and fail to fill her up?”
He unzips himself and pushes his pants and boxers down, then jams his massive cock into your unprepared hole and you wail into the counter.
“How could you fucking do this to this to her?” he laments with a snarl, thrusting into you with shattering, slow slams.
You try and nudge yourself onto the counter to get his raging tip away from your cervix, but he pulls you farther down on him instead and starts taking what he wants, hard and unforgiving, hair fisted in his hand so that your back arches for his cock to pound deeper into you.
“John. Please. I can- can’t. Fuck. Too much. It hurts.”
He smacks your ass with palm again, only this time latching to your skin, fisting a pound of flesh and fat. That familiar flop flop flop of your body accommodating his intrusion tells you that you’re soaking his dick and making it easier for him to fuck you harder. Traitorous fucking whore.
“What did I say?” He asks you, that poised voice cracking into growls and grunts and groans, slick with impending orgasm.
You don’t answer soon enough, and he digs further into your ass with blunt nails. You feel like he’s going to rip the meat right off your body.
“Yes, John.” But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let up. He gets meaner, lifting your feet up off the ground and your head impossibly higher in the air, making so the only thing holding you up is his brutal cock. You feel fucking impaled.
You’re helpless, trapped, humiliated, and all you can do is take the rough slap of his pelvis against your abused skin. When he reaches down and pushes his fingers into your swollen lips to find your clit, you can’t help but hate yourself for enjoying this - this consuming fire spreading, overtaking, the choice to orgasm from this brutality ripped away from you as he rubs and fucks you toward blinding, white hot release.
He leans over you, puts one foot on the counter beside your ass to give him an impossibly deeper angle that reads like his cock is in your womb.
With all senses overwhelmed by excruciating pleasure - an impending orgasm that’s going that’s going to wreck you - the only thing you can really do is cry and take it until he decides to baste your burning cervix in cum.
It’s immediately spurting from you, coating your thighs, his legs, dripping pearly rivulets onto the floor. He replaces his dick with two fingers, wrenching away any hope of release, gathers some fluid and brings it up to the only unstained place - your asshole. He costs the outer tissue, pushes two fingers in and curls them down, rubs at your delicate insides harshly.
“Think you can handle my cock in your ass, Mrs. Wick?” He leaves two fingers inside your anus and pushes his thumb into your snapping, gaping, runny cunt. You push back onto his finger, trying to fuck the almost orgasm free from your aching hole.
John snorts as if to laugh at this whorish attempt.
“Tell you what, I’ll give you two choices: I shove my dick into your ass and fuck it as hard as I want til’ I cum again. Or. I spend a few hours prepping you to take my cock. What do you think?”
“Need a break,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks in shiny rivulets.
He smacks your thigh. “That wasn’t an option, honey.”
“Okay… okay.” Your frantic, hissing tone makes him smile for the first time in a long while… For the first time since you ran away from him and left a sobbing, drunk, blood hungry mess of a man on the kitchen floor; surrounded by glass and blood and splintered wood, screaming, smashing everything in the house to tiny pieces. You don’t know how many people have died terrible deaths for the absence of this spongey, tight, beautiful pussy - Christ, he even dabbled in torture just to see if it would get him off like you could.
But he’s going to spend the rest of your life reminding you - reminding you that if you ever fucking leave again he’ll kill everyone until you have no one left but him.
“Ten seconds and then I’m picking for you,” he murmurs, kissing behind your ear.
He has to press his weight into your hips to keep them from rocking down onto his fingers - the ones he’s got shoved up to the hilt of his hand inside you, teasing your front wall with languid little rubs.
The resigned, pathetic defeat in your tone warms his heart. “Second option.”
“Which one was that again?”
“Prep me.”
He nips your cartilage with his teeth, wrenching a little beaten whine from deep in your throat, the loss of his bully fingers making you clench and spasm and writhe.
He picks you up, cradles you to his warm heartbeat, kisses your head. You can’t help it, you fold into his embrace, cling to the John you once knew, hands clutching at the lapels of his suit in some desperate attempt to find comfort.
“I’m sorry, John.” You choke on whimpers, smothering your tears into his collar.
“Oh, babydoll,” he coos, smoothing your sore scalp. “No you’re not. But you will be.”
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