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dollfacefantasy · 8 months

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Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation.

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

4K notes · View notes

sugarnspice630 · 27 days

Note

I wonder how would each member react that you wore a phenomenon perfume to seduce them (yk the tiktok trend,when the girlfriend wore that perfume and their boyfriend sniffing them like crazy.)

I wonder how ateez would react..

I would be happy if you do it 🥺

Hi anon! Omg I absolutely love this idea. I am also curious how Ateez would react in this situation, so let’s dive in to see what I’ve come up with! 😈🙏

Ateez's Reactions to You Using a Pheromone Perfume Around Them

A/N: Sometimes I changed the prompt to have already established the pheromone perfume or it wasn't necessarily used to seduce the member. I hope that's okay! I just got bored of essentially writing the same thing in different fonts so I had to change it up a bit for my sake, but all stories still involve the perfume! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Hongjoong

Going for a night drive with Hongjoong, being the passenger princess like you loved. Listening to the music playing from the stereo and taking in the beautiful scenery of city life at night. The peaceful humming of Hongjoong singing along to the song currently playing and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Sitting at a red light waiting to turn, you decided to dig in your bag for your perfume to "touch up your scent." Fortunately for Hongjoong, the perfume of choice for the night was the pheromone perfume that has been seen all over the internet. You saw videos of how crazy it made everyone’s boyfriends react, and you wanted to try it out on him. You opened the cap and rolled the perfume on your wrists and neck, snapping the cap back on the perfume and placing it into your bag. The light changed, and Hongjoong was able to turn. Your body leaned closer to him since you were turning left, and the air in the car blew the smell of your perfume over to him. He glanced over at you to make sure you didn’t spill anything since the smell was so strong. It was a smell he had never smelled before, but it was making his body react in an animalistic way.

“Mm, b-baby what did you just put on?”

“Nothing..just my usual perfume.” You smirked, realizing it had such a quick effect on him.

“Can’t be.” He shifted in his seat with his eyes forward. “This perfume is different than your other kind.” His grip on the wheel tightens, and he looks for a place to pull over. His breathing increases heavily as he keeps leaning over to your side of the car to catch a better whiff.

“Hongjoong what are you-?” You say as he quickly whips into an almost empty parking lot, harshly puts the car in park, and unfastens his seatbelt, crawling over to you. His face dove straight into your neck, and he was sniffing you like a wild dog. You reached your hand up to his face as he breathed in your smell.

“I’m sorry baby. We’ll get back to our drive later. I need to get more of you right now.”

Seonghwa

You were sitting in front of your vanity, getting ready for your date with Seonghwa. You were almost finished with your routine. Just a few more touch-ups you had to do. You had this perfume that Seonghwa loved when you wore it because it made him find you irresistible. Little did he know, it was a pheromone perfume that was meant to drive him crazy. You had seen it everywhere online and decided you wanted to try it out on him. You picked up your favorite lip gloss and rolled it across your lips. You see Seonghwa walking up to you in the mirror. You smiled softly as you watched him approach you.

“You look amazing darling~.” He said this as he kissed the top of your head, looking at you in the mirror.

“Thank you baby. I always try to look nice for you.”

"Well, you don’t have to try that hard~ since you always look amazing.” He rests his head on top of yours as he gently wraps his arms around you. You finished getting ready as he cuddled you. Shortly after, you finished your makeup and turned to Seonghwa.

“All done~.”

“Mmm, not yet. You’re forgetting something.” He says this as he gets up off your head to reach for the vile of pheromone perfume on the desk.

“Seonghwa I can’t wear that.”

“Please darling? I wanna put it on you.” He said it with a slight pout as he popped off the cap of the perfume, and you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he seemed so excited to help you out. He dotted the bottle along your collarbone, careful not to put on too much as it would drive him absolutely insane. He placed the cap back on the bottle and set it down. He looked you in the eyes and up and down, taking in the view before him. Leaning down to take a small whiff, the smell of the perfume fills his senses and his head.

“Now I’ll have to fight all the men who try to come after you tonight.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand and helps you up off the chair to go on your date.

Yunho

You felt bad that every time Yunho would talk about Valorant or Spider-Man, you always had to just nod and smile. The guilt was setting in because you could not really understand what he was saying. The excitement and passion on his face was enough to keep you interested, but the information would never stick because you had no baseline, and then you felt bad when he would ask you, “Oh, remember this thing I told you?” and you couldn’t remember. To make your teaching interesting, you put on a pheromone perfume that you recently bought online. Apparently, the perfume had an effect on men that activated their hormones and made them go crazy over you. Gliding the perfume on your wrist and across your neck, making sure to put it on your sweet spots. You picked up a notebook and pen to be able to take notes to study. You walked over to where Yunho was.

“Yunho I want you to teach me about Valorant.”

“H-huh? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! I feel bad when I can’t remember the things you tell me, so give me the basics so I can study and be able to remember better.”

“Ah..o-okay. Have a seat.” He said, patting next to him, smiling and looking at you. You walked over and sat down next to him. The breeze from you sitting down went over to Yunho, and a new scent filled his nose. His breath hitched in his throat, and you gave him a confused expression.

“You alright love?”

“I-I don’t know.” He leaned in closer to you and took a deep breath. “Did you get a new perfume?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to try it.” You admitted it shyly, hiding what the perfume actually did and admiring the way Yunho was acting.

“It- it smells really good. I like it a lot.” He leaned closer to you and breathed in heavily again. Placing a hand on the back of your neck and sticking his nose into the crevice.

“Yunho- what about Valorant?”

“Valorant is the least important thing right now. Give me a few minutes with you instead.”

Yeosang

Trying out the viral pheromone perfume that so many ladies on the internet said worked wonders. After doing dozens of hours of research to find the best one, you placed an order and waited for it to come in the mail. You were busy doing other things at the time it was delivered, so Yeosang brought the package in for you.

“This has your name on it baby.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You say as you take the package and smile to yourself.

“What did you order?”

“Ah, n-nothing. Just something I saw on the internet that I wanted. People have been saying it’s really good.” You shyly smile and set the package on your side. Yeosang nods and lets you get back to your work. When he leaves the room, you excitedly open the package and examine the product. You open the box and slide out a little dark blue vial that has a ball-roll cap on the end. You took the cap off and sniffed it. You couldn’t really smell anything, but you thought maybe it would smell different on your skin. You applied it generously to your skin and popped the cap back on. Waiting a few minutes for it to soak in and trying to sniff your wrists. There was a soft vanilla scent; it was quite pleasant, but not like your everyday perfume. You wanted to see how Yeosang reacted to it, since the internet made it seem instantaneous. You walked out of your room and went over to him.

“Did you try your thing out?” He asked as he watched you walk in. You nodded and hummed a “mmhmm”, walking over to him, hoping the smell would permeate over to him quickly.

“What do you think~?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you got.”

“It was a new perfume I wanted to try.” You said this as you held your wrist near his nose. He leaned closer to take a whiff of it and pondered for a moment.

“Did you...put enough on? It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I-I think I did..” Your voice trails off, feeling saddened and tricked by the internet yet again.

“I mean, I smell something, but it’s just not that strong.” Yeosang says a little more upbeat cause he could tell you were getting slightly upset. You sniffed your wrist again, and it still smelled the same.

“Maybe I got the wrong kind?”

“Everyone’s skin takes perfumes differently darling. Don’t feel bad.” Yeosang reassured you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. You nodded softly and laid your head on his shoulder. He breathed in softly and noticed that something felt different about him. His body was reacting in some way to this new perfume you had on. He tried not to notice what was going on, but as he breathed in more, the scent only got more and more overwhelming for him. He fidgeted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but notice.

“You alright Yeosang?”

“I-I think I understand what this perfume does now.” He quickly said this under his breath before he turned over and placed you down on the couch, diving his nose into your neck to take in more of the scent. "Y-You should wear this more often my sweet."

San

Secretly applying this new pheromone perfume that you bought online in the room next to San’s gaming room. You bought it because you heard it smells really good, and men will find you irresistible. You unexpectedly got a call from one of your friends begging you to meet up for dinner, as you haven’t hung out in forever because of being busy with work. You accepted, seeing as San was busy with gaming. You walked into his room, tapped on his shoulder, and he removed his headphone from one ear to listen to you. You tell him you were going to go out with your friend. He nodded quickly, breathed in, and was immediately stunned by what he was smelling. He excused himself from the game and removed his headset, standing up and touching all over you, pushing himself closer to you.

“Darling, d-did you do something different?”

“No, just the usual.” You smirked to yourself, surprised it had this quick of an effect on him. He pressed his nose into the crevice of your neck, breathing heavily through his nose. “S-Sannie I have to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls as he pushes his body even closer to yours and breathes in quicker to gather more of your scent. You bring your hands up to try to push him off of you so that you can get ready to go meet up with your friend.

“San…I-I have to go- my friend-“ Your words are being cut off by San kissing and rubbing his nose along your neck.

“Sorry darling, but you’re not meeting with your friend tonight. I need you here with me instead.”

Mingi

“I got this for you love.” Mingi said as he handed you a small gift bag. You smiled and awed as you were taken aback by his sudden and kind action. Mingi always loved buying you things that he thought you would like. You carefully opened the bag and unrolled the tissue paper that was wrapped around the small, long, rectangular box inside the bag. You examined the box and saw it was a type of roll-on perfume. The label had a bunch of different fruits on the side, so you assumed it had a fruity smell. You smiled and looked at Mingi with loving eyes. He had a flustered look on his face.

“Thank you Mingi! I appreciate it very much.”

"Ah, it’s nothing really…I-I saw that a lot of girls online were buying it and saying how good it was, and my girl always has to have the best.” He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides.

“I love you so much Mingi.” You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he smiled at your gesture. “I’ll go try it out right now.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and opened the perfume box. You sniffed the cap and couldn’t really smell anything at first. Applying it gently to your skin, you sniffed where you placed it and got a hint of a citrus smell. It was a light scent that you could use in case of an emergency. Setting the tube back on the bathroom counter, you walked back out to the room Mingi was in.

“This smells pretty good Mingi, thank you!” You said with glee as you sat down beside him. As you sat down, the air blew the perfume smell over to him, and he breathed in. The intoxicating smell immediately filled his nostrils and filled his head with thoughts. You saw him tense up as you sat down and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah everything’s fine.” He smiled and shifted in his seat. You dismissed his odd behavior and cuddled up next to him. Mingi kept shifting in his seat and leaning down to smell the perfume on you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi holted his actions and sighed.

“I have to tell you something….that perfume…it’s a..pheromone perfume.” He stuttered out and couldn’t meet your eyes.

“O-oh…” Your face flushed as it connected why he bought it for you.

“Yeah…and now my brain and body are on fire, and I need to show you how you just made me feel.”

Wooyoung

You had had a small argument with Wooyoung earlier in the day, which resulted in you not talking to each other that much. You both had errands you needed to run, so you went together just to save time. Stupidly, you had forgotten something inside the house and asked if he could run inside quick and get it for you since you were already buckled in the driver’s seat. He silently nodded, let out a small "mhm,” and got out of the car to get your item. You couldn’t handle Wooyoung not talking to you even after you apologized, so you decided to try out this pheromone perfume that one of your friends had given you. You rolled it on your wrists and neck, the spots that make the scent stick the best. You saw Wooyoung coming back in the rear view mirror and quickly placed the perfume back in your bag. He opened the door and handed you the item you had forgotten, leaning close to you to make sure you didn’t have to stretch too far to reach it. You heard him take a sniff through his nose, and he paused for a second.

“Are you wearing that perfume?”

“What are you talking about Youngie?”

“That perfume. I’ve been seeing it all over the internet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just my normal perfume-“ Your words were cut off by Wooyoung diving his face into your neck and placed his hand on the other side. He kissed the side of your face.

“You smell so good baby.” You smirk to yourself, seeing how feral he was acting over your scent. Driving his nose further into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck.

“Are you not mad at me anymore?”

“I couldn’t be mad at you anymore, but our errands are going to have to wait a little longer.”

Jongho

Jongho was planning on going out with the boys today, but you decided to try to see if you could keep him home with you instead. You secretly rolled on the pheromone perfume that you got a while ago that he really seemed to like on you, for obvious reasons. Just before he walked into your room to tell you he was getting ready to go, he made a small knock on your door. You greeted him with a smile, and he smiled right back at you. Walking over towards you to give you a kiss goodbye.

"Alright baby, the boys are waiting for me outside."

"Okie, bye sweetheart. I love you. Have fun!" You tell him as he leans down towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves. After the kiss, he makes his way back over to the door of your room, but turns around before fully walking out, looking back at you and softly licking his lips. He walks back over to you again, and you're confused as to why he came back. Leaning down close to you to get another whiff of your scent. He has this huge smile on his face as he leans back up.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What do you mean Jongho?"

"The-the perfume? That I like. The special perfume?" The smile on his face is so contagious, you can't help but smile back at him as well.

"No~." You tease him as you softly laugh at his reaction to it, knowing that you are getting exactly what you want. "Just go have fun with the boys!"

"O-okay yeah, you're right. I'm going now." He says as he slowly walks backwards to the door, still smiling like a fool at you. "Love you!"

"Love you too baby." He reaches for the door handle and goes to pull it shut. Not a moment passes and he opens the door back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie instead?" Popping his head out from the side of the door.

"What happened with going out with the boys~?" You can't help but laugh at him wanting to stay with you, and it's all thanks to the perfume you put on.

"Y-yeah, I think I'd rather go out with you though babe. Stay in for the night, you know?" He waltzes his way back into your room, coming closer to you and catching another whiff of the perfume.

"I guess I can't say no to you~."

"Oh, I know you can't." His face is pressed into your neck, and you feel the gentle air coming in and out of his nose as he breathes in and out, taking in your scent.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho

@yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sanspuppet @sugawara-levi

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infictionalwonderland · 9 months

Note

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

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specshroom · 3 months

Text

★ - Some assistance

You and your boyfriend are lounging on the couch in the living room, winding down after a long day. He's drinking his evening tea and reading while you unsuccessfully distract yourself by flicking through channels on the TV. You decide to just come out and ask what you've been meaning to ask for awhile now.

"Kento? Do you think you could make me squirt?"

This poor man chokes on his tea and almost messes it on his home shirt. He just looks at you with a face that says "Why would you ask me something like that so suddenly?" You just look at him deadpan waiting for his response. He clears his throat and composes himself, realising it was a somewhat serious question and his girlfriend (soon to be fiancé, hopefully) wasn't just playing some dumb joke.

"Well... I'm sure I could try, Y/n. But why bring that up so out of the blue, if you mind me asking."

He responds, as polite as always. He makes you feel so safe in his presence it's almost supernatural.

"Uh... I've just been thinking about it for awhile, I guess." He places his mug on the coffee table, the one that says "Live, Laugh, Love" in exaggerated curly font, courtesy of Gojo. He doesn't know why you insist on making his tea in that mug but he drinks it every time anyway. He brings your legs into his lap and lightly massages them silently asking you to continue.

"I'm just curious to see if I can is all. Whenever I've tried to do it myself, I always just get too sensitive and stop, but... If I had someone else do it, I think I might actually be able to."

You explain this to him almost like a scientist explains their hypothesis, like you've thought about it for awhile. He rubs under your shins and thinks for a bit. he would very much like to be the one to make you squirt and he's confident in his abilities but he also doesn't want you to be upset if you end up not being able to do it.

"I also just think it would be really hot if you made me squirt."

That breaks him out of his thoughts with a disbelieving huff.

"The problem is that when I get sensitive I'm gonna be yelling for you to stop out of second nature. But you can't stop Kento, you have to keep going until I either squirt or say the safe word. Can you do that, Baby?" Nanami looks up at your serious face, you really have thought about this quite a bit. He nods his head, sealing the deal. You just stare at eachother for a moment longer, the TV still going in the back. You break out in a smile, unable to keep the semi-serious atmosphere.

"Can- can we do it now?" You ask the man on the opposite end of the couch while you try and stifle a giggle.

Nanami smiles and pulls you closer to him by your legs. You yelp as you get yanked into his lap where he attacks your neck with kisses. He hoists you up and starts walking to the bedroom. Once he sets you onto your shared bed, you start removing your shirt and shorts while he rummages in the cupboard for a towel that he puts down on the bed before undressing himself.

You're almost shaking with excitement and anticipation. Nanami sits against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, placing the towel on the bed in front of him. He watches as you turn to him with that sultry look in your eyes. You crawl your way up the bed on all fours until you're right between his muscular thighs. Your hands glide up his thighs and waist, you kiss him with need and he reciprocates. You break the connection to feel yourself up infront of him and sensually take off your bra. You present yourself to him and kiss him again before turning around and pressing your back to his chest.

His hands go to your waist to gently squeeze and rub there. You spare no flare when taking off your panties and you adjust yourself so that both your legs are wide open, slightly bent and his stronger ones are over yours, forcing them to stay open.

"Put your legs like this so that it stops me from closing mine when it gets too sensitive."

You say as you help him into the position you want. Nanami chuckles and bends down to say lowly into your ear.

"You really have thought this whole thing through, huh?"

You flush and nod your head as his hand moves down your body to where you want him the most. His touch is gentle at first, lightly stroking down your clit and lips, gathering wetness with his fingers. He starts to work his finger into you and gently rubs your clit with the other hand, coaxing you to melt into his touch. You start moaning and groaning with the pleasure your wonderful boyfriend is giving you.

With both his hands working on your pussy so diligently, it's no wonder your first orgasm washes over you pretty quickly. Nanami keeps going at the same steady pace after you cum and it's the first out of the ordinary occurrence in this session. You usually would get a grace period after you cum to come down from the high but you and Nanami have a goal. The fact that you get no chance to come down at all is fucking with your brain and the fucked out feeling is just multiplying every second his strong hands play with your pussy.

Nanami lays back a bit, forcing you to also lay back and expose yourself a bit more as you begin to writhe and squirm. One hand is still diligently circling your clit as he works his two middle fingers into you, slamming into that perfect spot inside you over and over and over again. You get louder and more frantic as the second orgasm hits you. Your head falls back on Nanamis chest as you groan his name.

"Uuuuh Fuck! Feels so good Kento, soo good, so good, s' good, s' good, s' gud." You mumble and moan to him. Your second orgasm hits you full force and the pleasure doesn't stop or slow down, in fact it only gets more intense. He doesn't even slow down despite you're kicking legs and bucking hips.

Nanami eventually brings you to a third orgasm, now things really start to feel sensitive and your whines and cries of overstimulation get louder but the man doesn't tire. He keeps going, mumbling things like "Cmon, cmon Love." And "You can do it Darling".

Before you know it the fourth wave hits you like a train, this is where you get frantically desperate as you realize he isnt even slowing down. You're now actively trying to get out of his iron hold, trying to close your legs just a little but his strong thighs keep you open for him. You're squirming and struggling and crying out.

"Wait wait wait wait!".

Your pussy is so raw and sensitive, you almost beg him to slow down but the man is going even stronger now. He's more precise with his movements, touching all the right spots with just the right amount of force to make you weep.

"Wait Ken! It's sensitive, stoooop stopstopstop!" You hands go to his to try and make him slow down a little but Nanami isn't having any of that. You set out a goal for yourself and clear rules. He is going to make sure you reach your goals like the good partner he is.

He cages your arms against your chest with one arm hugged around you while the other still goes at your clit, rubbing frantic but deliberate circles into the pink flesh with his callous palm. The wet slick sounds of your pussy being bullied by the man you love are drowned out by the sounds coming from your mouth.

You're screaming now, legs shaking and kicking, not nearly strong enough to budge against Nanami's thick thighs forcing them wide open. Your entire body begins convulsing and spasming, you swear you feel like you're going to pee but you don't even have the mind to be concerned about that. You can only scream an intelligible jumble of pleas at this point as your nails dig into his arm.

"Cmon Honey, just one more f'me, your doing so well."

The praise makes you go even dumber as you're quickly brought to the end of your rope. The last strand snaps and a tidel wave of violent hot pleasure comes crashing down on your entire being. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your screams turn to silent hiccups and overwhelmed chokes.

Your body convulses violently and your back arches off Nanamis chest as he holds you tightly to his chest. It's by far the most intense orgasm of your life and you don't even register the jet of clear liquid shooting out from you untill you hear Nanamis loud groan at the sight.

"There you go, that's my girl."

You're brought back to earth and let out a long groan as Nanami presses up on the hood of your clit to force more squirt out of you, the feeling is even more euphoric than you thought it could ever be.

Nanami pats your pussy, making sure he gets every last drop out as your wetness trickles down your pussy and ass onto the towel Nanami set down, which was definitely not enough to keep the bed dry. You drop your body completely limp onto Nanamis chest as you both catch your breath.

Nanami releases your arms and your hand immediately goes to cup your swollen, abused pussy with a whine. Nanami chuckles and runs his hands down your back and around your waist, soothing you, bringing you down gently while mumbling little praises. You curl up on top of him and dig your face into his neck with another small whine.

"Love you s'much." You mumble into his hot skin. He chuckles at you once again.

"I love you too, Baby."

-★

#i thaught this was such a hot idea #Nanami isnt usually my type so i hope i did him justice?#nanami kento #first Nanami post LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you

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buckys-metal-arm · 7 days

Text

Bucky and Touch Headcanons

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: Just some Headcanons about Bucky and learning to trust human contact again

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, Bucky’s trauma, abuse at the hands of HYDRA, insecurities, self conscious Bucky, pet names, no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"

A/N: if you haven't noticed I definitely have a type when it comes to fic and that fic is hurt/comfort with Bucky. I kinda feel like everything I've written is like the same thing in different fonts, but oh well 😅 anyways, Bucky re-learning that hands on his body doesn’t inherently mean pain and becoming super cuddly and touchy with someone he loves is my SHIT inject that into my VEINS man

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It takes Bucky a really long time to get accustomed to human contact again, after you two got together it took him a while to even do something so innocent as hold your hand.

It’s not that Bucky hates it

He loves being close to you, he wants it so badly

And he’s touch-starved

He’s so touch-starved

But he went so long without positive human contact, and now that he’s free he wanted it so badly he could feel his chest aching for it

But it made him so nervous to want to try

After one night where you mindlessly reached up to casually touch his face and he flinched away hard, after all open hand coming towards his face had meant pain for so long, you two had a long conversation about his comfort levels

You two took things slow initially

You would sit on the couch together, watching a movie and talking with your fingers intertwined, your thumb stroking his knuckles.

Sometimes you’ll fall asleep on his shoulder, something he’s slowly started to accept

At the very least he’s stopped freezing when he feels your head droop to his arm

But now that he’s grown used to it and learned to love it? He wants to be touching you all the time

Bucky almost always has his arm around you, or a hand on your back, holding your hand, etc.

He would never admit it to anyone but you, but he’s SUCH a little spoon.

Bucky loves when you hold him, resting his head on your chest while you rub his back brings him a level of calm that he’s never felt before

Or when you hold him from behind and he curls into your body

You slip your hand under his shirt and run your hands along his tummy, gently stroking your fingers along his skin

You know he’s a lot larger than you, being a wall of muscle that has at least a head of height on you

But seeing him sleeping peacefully, wrapped in your arms with a little smile on his face he looks so small

He loves when you play with his hair.

It took him a long time to be okay with it (too many memories of handlers grabbing and/or dragging him by the hair), but now?

If he had it his way your hands would never leave it

Whenever you two are holding each other your hands always seem to find their way to his dark locks, brushing them out of his eyes or carding your fingers through it

You learned that the quickest way to get him to fall asleep is to stroke his hair, and put him to sleep like that every night

When it was long, Bucky loved when you combed it for him after a shower, or braided and unbraided it while he laid in your lap during a movie

Now that it’s cut short (thanks to you, he didn’t trust anyone else to do it) you’re pretty much always playing with it in some way

As much as you loved his long hair, his shorter cut is nice because it’s a bit more manageable and still just as soft

Bucky loves when you massage his scalp, feeling your nails gently scratching against his head makes him melt every time

He also loves when you bathe him or bathe with him

Bucky had a lot of anxiety around being naked in front of you, too many bad memories of being stripped and hosed down after missions or beaten within an inch of his life

But with lots of time and comfort and assurances he eventually opened up and got more comfortable

Long baths with you are his favorite thing.

Whether you get in with him or not, he loves how gentle you are with washing his body, massaging sore muscles and peppering his chest and back with little kisses

He especially loves when you wash his hair (I know, shocking).

Usually when you’re done washing him you’ll guide his head to lay in your lap while you stroke his hair.

When it’s time for him to get out you usually have to wake him up, it makes you smile

Peace looks so good on him, you just want to let him bask in it forever

And oh GOD he loves skin-on-skin contact so much

It took so long for Bucky to learn that he was allowed to want things

When he first started opening up with touch, he would wait until the aching in his chest got unbearable before asking if you would do some skin-on-skin with him

You never wanted to push him, but you tried to teach him that he was allowed to ask for things he didn't need immediately.

He didn't have to wait until he absolutely needed something to ask for it.

He was allowed to just want things.

Once he finally gets used to asking for things he wants skin-on-skin all the time.

Most every night you end up cuddled up in bed, sans clothing, Bucky pretty much on top of you, his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

He'll press little kisses to your chest, making you smile when his stubble tickles against your skin

“I love you,” he whispers into your neck, “how did I get so lucky, hm?”

You smile softly and kiss his forehead

“Believe me Buck, I'm the lucky one.”

#bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #hurt/comfort

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mqrianos · 9 months

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jess mariano and rory gilmore are literally the SAME people at their core, just in opposite fonts. they MIRROR each other and are each other's TWIN FLAMES. that's exactly why they understand each other better than everyone else (asp herself said so). both are raised by teen moms and have deadbeat dads. yet, one is nurtured with love and care with a mom like lorelai. and the other is abandoned & ignored by a flaky mom like liz. both develop an immense love for reading regardless of whether it became kind of a coping mechanism. both exceed normal expectations of intelligence required for their age. hence, one goes above and beyond, strives for perfection with it, and craves validation while the other could not care less what people think and says "fuck it. rules don't matter anymore for me. i know stuff". one becomes stars hollow's princess, held onto a pedestal by everyone around her. the other becomes stars hollow's pariah, hated by every person he meets. both are under intense scrutiny by people where one is held to exceptionally high standards and the other is seen as "good for nothing". both of them break out of those respective moulds as soon as they become young adults. and both play a pivotal role in helping each other break out of those moulds and still be true to their inner selfs. I COULD WRITE AN ENTIRE TEN-PAGE ESSAY ON THE PARALLELS BETWEEN THEM....I REALLY COULD!

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #literati #jess x rory #rory and jess #rory gilmore #rory x jess #anti rogan #someone help me out of this brainrot #they are SOOOO INSANE #not even shakespeare could write out a love story as complex as theirs #they will FIND THEIR WAY BACK TO EACH OTHER #the collage is just a silly lil thing but omg theyre my pookies

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astermath · 11 months

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second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter @stevenose

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week.

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin.

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page.

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head.

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you.

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response.

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse.

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in.

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you.

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?”

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up.

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses.

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.”

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was.

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really.

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him.

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you.

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.”

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?”

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier.

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love.

#aster writes stranger things #stevemath #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #king!steve x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fan fic #steve harrington fic #steven harrington writing #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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saradika · 7 months

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—HOW TO USE CANVA TO MAKE MOODBOARDS

I got a kind message asking how I make moodboards in Canva, so I wanted to do a little tutorial! Canva is a free graphic design app/website, and I use it for everything.

To start - open the app/page and use the search bar at the top to search for a template. I usually use: photo collage, scrapbook, aesthetic moodboard - all of these will pull up pre-made templates for you to use.

[I have a couple linked below that I’ve used and liked, or have bookmarked to try:]

Anything with a crown is for Canva Pro members - you used to be able to use the templates as a free member (just not the paid assets) but that changed recently. The linked templates above are all free ones that you can use right away.

PHOTOS:

Once you’re in the template, you can press the + in the bottom corner to bring up the menus. The Elements tab have items you can add in (more on that later) - for now you want to go to Uploads, and add the photos you want to use. I mostly get mine from Pinterest and Google Images.

[If you are writing an x reader fic and are looking for tips for creating an inclusive moodboard, there are some awesome resources here: one | two !]

After that, go back to your template and click on the different photo frames, and use the Replace button in the toolbar - it will let you replace the template photos with your own. Double tap to move and resize your image within the frame, (and there are also filters you can use if you want!)

When working on moodboards, I like to move things around. You can replace the frames they use by clicking on the item and then clicking the Trashcan. Then go back to the + menu, and then Elements, and scroll down to Frames. You can scroll through them all, but my fave keywords to use in the search bar is: polaroid, torn, and ripped.

Once they’re added, you can move them wherever you want. There’s a button on the toolbar that says Position, and you can shift the object forward/back between the items around it.

DETAILS:

Once you add your photos, then comes the details! You can change the background color and add/change the fonts (or upload your fave font to use!) Try out all the tools on the toolbar to see what you can do, there’s a lot of options.

I love love layering with my moodboard, so I will go back to the + / Elements tab, and then search for things to layer in. My fave searches for Graphics recently are: ripped paper, grunge patterns (to use in the background), star patterns, dried flowers, and dried leaves.

You can use the Position tool on them to fit them in-between or in front of your photos. I usually use them to hide harsh edges or in places that look a little empty.

I also like adding fabric texture to the backgrounds, to fill the space between the photo frames. There isn’t an easy way to do this - the best way I figured out is to find an image of the texture you want, and then to add a photo frame with a torn or jagged edge in the very back (and then use your new texture there). You can duplicate and move it, to cover the space (you can see some examples below - the beige flower pattern in the Din one, the black velvet for Alfred).

Here are some examples of the original templates, and then what my finished ones look like. You can see what I swapped out, moved, and added:

original image | my moodboard

EDITING:

Once I am happy with the design I download it, and then edit. I love this part - pop it into your fave editing app, and play around with the exposure/contrast/hues/sharpness. I will mess with the color balance & vibrancy as well - this can really take a moodboard I like, to one I love.

Here’s some gifs I made showing before /after editing - both are pretty before but I think the after has an oomph that I really appreciate.

[When you finish with one and want to use the same template, you can click Make a Copy, and it will duplicate it. I began with templates but everything I do now are copies of heavily/edited templates or ones I’ve made from scratch. But for starting off, I think a template is the way to go!]

And that’s it!! I would really suggest just opening it up and seeing what you can do. Not all of mine turn out great, but each time I think I get a better handle on all the different options and what my moodboard style is.

I really hope this helps! And feel free to tag me if you post any you make, I’d love to see them (or drop me an ask if you have any questions!) 💖💕

#please give this a reblog if it was helpful! 💖#and just a note the 4th example is an OC x Character fic moodboard #moodboards #graphics #tutorials #aesthetic moodboard #resources #fic moodboard #fan fic meta #fic writing #writing resources

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artists-ally · 7 months

Text

{Only Me and the Devil Know} Azriel x Reader

Picture credit

So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)

Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)

Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.

Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo

~~~~~

The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary.

I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be.

After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer.

I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.

I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”

My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie.

What the fuck?

I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.

No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.

“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again.

“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged.

“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”

“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew.

“Yn-”

“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”

“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”

“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”

With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless.

____

There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements.

I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster.

It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants.

But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?

Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick.

Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now.

The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up.

There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before.

My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?

“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder.

I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good.

The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this.

When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night.

A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height.

I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.

I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings.

Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.

It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely.

But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-

Nope. Not going there.

_____

With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter.

I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals.

It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat.

I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked.

A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall.

“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.

Oh shit.

My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.

“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”

I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.

“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”

Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-

“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno.

My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread.

“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out.

He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”

A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”

“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking.

I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes.

This was it. This was going to happen.

I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.

My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.

How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs.

Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry.

The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.

I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field.

“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.”

He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move.

“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”

In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head.

As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.

“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.

It was solid stone.

“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”

“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”

“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”

I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”

“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one.

“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”

He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor.

My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber.

“Where am I?”

“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”

Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome.

He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”

I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”

“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen.

His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs.

“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”

Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.

He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back.

“Good girl, my dove.”

I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.

“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”

Again, not comforting.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me.

“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”

The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core.

A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand.

“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”

I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle.

“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.”

My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.

But my goodness was he a stunning male.

Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest.

“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”

“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”

“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.

I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded.

“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”

Uh oh.

With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it.

When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip.

“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”

My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly.

With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously.

I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare.

“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move.

“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”

He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already.

This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest.

“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”

His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs.

It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me.

“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”

Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously.

“Tell me what you want, dove.”

I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”

“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.

“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud.

“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened.

Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?

“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”

I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came.

Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside.

There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him.

I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here.

But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…

Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria.

“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”

My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe.

The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood.

“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”

He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….

The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it.

Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up.

“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed.

“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.

“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”

“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.”

I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?

“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”

I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me.

The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore.

My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me.

“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”

Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator.

And I had made him that way.

“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”

He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants.

Holy Mother send me a blessing.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”

“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”

With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-

“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”

My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin.

“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips.

After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing.

He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance.

“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”

He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.

When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance.

“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”

I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.

It was so thrilling.

With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin.

I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”

An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose.

When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.

I felt like I was in the clouds.

The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.

All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground.

“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”

The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”

“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”

If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing.

“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”

My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did.

The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard.

With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit.

I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said.

The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine.

His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.

“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”

I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next.

“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”

“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”

His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me.

My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him.

“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”

The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was.

He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back.

It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me.

His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin.

Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved.

When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently.

“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put.

I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories.

Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted.

It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity.

I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too.

The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together.

“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”

I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.

____

The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room.

“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”

“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”

“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”

“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.

~~~~~~

[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]

Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.

When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.

When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.

“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots.

It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”

“They live two houses to the left.”

“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”

“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand.

“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”

Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it.

And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears.

You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted.

How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this.

It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end.

Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.

But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants.

The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.

“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”

“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made.

“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”

He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”

“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job.

“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”

The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck.

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up.

He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you.

You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.

You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”

It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”

“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”

“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”

“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”

“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”

“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about.

You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful.

“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”

“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”

With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism.

“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him.

“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”

“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”

“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”

Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”

You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”

“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”

“Yours as well, Azriel.”

______

When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.

“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.

“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”

“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”

With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided.

And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.

He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life.

As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way.

Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having.

Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be.

He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening.

He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore.

It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected.

From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind.

____

READER POV

I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting.

“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him.

Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Love, what is it?”

He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”

“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”

A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire.

“Azriel, tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”

His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke.

“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”

That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”

“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”

“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot.

He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea.

Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought.

Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…

“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.

“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it.

“Say it.”

“I want it, Az.”

“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”

My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”

Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”

I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”

_______

My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #smut

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louloulemons-posts · 7 months

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Wayne’s Hot Cocoa

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Nightmares were the worst, the Munsons made them better.

Word Count : 1.5k

Warnings : not proofread, 1am writing, mainly uncle wayne x reader fluff, angsty, fluffy, happy ending, talks of bad homelife, reader lives with the munsons, bad parents, fem pronouns and phrases used, no use of Y/N

A/N : you are loved 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Nights with Eddie made it easier, that was true. However, the warm hugs from the curly haired boy weren’t always enough to keep the monsters away. The monsters that came in your sleep, those that you knew weren’t real but made your skin crawl, your heart beat faster and you to become damp with sweat.

They weren’t real, but the feeling they created was.

Jumping away slightly, your eyes flicked around the dark room in panic. The soft snores of Eddie giving you a sense of comfort, along with pulling you back to reality.

Under the rays of the street lamps you could see his long lashes kissing his cheeks, hiding where a beauty mark lay under his eye. His curls were in his face slightly, coming on of the hair tie sat at the back of his neck.

His mouth was slightly open, lips plush in a small pout. His face was soft, beautiful, calm with sleep. You were thankful it wasn’t him having these dreams and it was you.

Eddie knew about them, knew they were a hell of a lot better, but also knew that they snuck up on you every now and again. He knew your past, your struggles, your fears and helped as much as he could. You both needed rest, both needed sleep, he couldn’t care for you all the time - as much as he’d love that.

Your throat was dry and scratchy, and Eddie had drank the last of the water in your glass hours before. Slowly moving his arm from your waist, you got up off the bed as quietly as possible.

You didn’t really need to, once Eddie was asleep he was dead to the world, normally kicking you off the bed in the process. Taking the glass from the side table, you went on your way.

Soft footsteps as you padded through the small trailer, not knowing the time. The sky whispering that it was still late, stars glimmering in the distance.

The tap was loud, but wasn’t everything louder when you were trying to be quiet. Taking slow sips, you tried to steady your heart, make your hands stop shaking. It wasn’t real - not anymore anyway.

“Honey?” The deep voice made you jump, not realising that the older Munson man was now stood next to you. “Holy cow I’m sorry,” he said, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s alright, did I wake you?” you asked, praying you hadn’t. Wayne was a hard worker, he needed all the rest he could get. He smiled, “No, I’ve not long come home. Just eaten some dinner.”

There was an empty plate and cutlery in the sink, you hadn’t even noticed them. “What are you doing up? That boy being a bed hog?” Letting out a slight chuckle, you shook your head.

The man sighed, “Bad dream?” You couldn’t even reply, couldn’t meet his eyes. Just a simple nod. “I’ll make us some cocoa, go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh no Wayne you don’t-“

“Don’t argue. I want to.”

Seeing the uncertainty on your face, he squeezed your shoulder once more, saying in his kind tone, “I promise.” Whispering a soft ‘okay’ you went to the sofa.

It smelt of smoke, most soft things in the trailer did. When you started staying more often Wayne told Eddie they’d have to smoke outside.

You didn’t mind of course, you felt guilty taking a place in Wayne’s home. He was a kind man, and he loved you, or so Eddie told you.

He never batted an eye when you’d show up late at night, in an array of states. Wayne was there. Just like Eddie. The Munsons were your lifeline, your family.

You sat with your legs crisscross on the couch, picking at the loose threads at the bottom of your pyjamas. Planet of the Apes was playing on the TV, old and crackly, it was something to focus on.

A steaming mug was placed in front of you, deep blue with ‘Nevada’ written in a funky font, from Wayne’s trucking days. The hot chocolate was topped with cream and marshmallows causing a soft smile to dance on your lips.

“Knew it’d cheer you up,” Wayne said, taking a sip from his own identical drink, but it was in his prized possession - his Garfield mug.

“Thank you.” Taking the warm drink into your hands, it’s helped them to stop shaking. The heat warming your cold fingers.

“Was it the same one?”

“Yes. It wasn’t as bad, but it’s just been a while,” you took a breath, “I just want it to go away.” Wayne hummed, placing his mug on the coffee table in front of you, “In time it will.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking a sip of your own drink, the cream making a mess of your nose. “It’s been what? 2 months since the last one?”

“About that.��

“Honey it was happening every day. I’d call that progress. I know you want it to stop and it will, it just takes time.”

Nodding your head, you met the man’s dark eyes, “I know. You and Eddie have helped so much-“

“You don’t need to thank us. We love having you here.”

“I just feel like I’m in the way. I feel like I should just go back.”

“No,” Wayne said, it was a simple statement, “I’d never let you go back there.”

“Wayne-“

“What happened to you was wrong. You didn’t deserve any of it, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to see the signs. But now you’re here and safe, I will not let you get hurt by those people again.”

“But why?”

“Because your family and family doesn’t do that.” You eyes became glassy. The mug went to the table. You were his family. You never really had a proper one of those.

Similarly to Eddie, you’d lost a parent, your dad. Your mom fell into bad habits, fulled by her various partners. Any negative emotion was taken out on you.

“Don’t cry Kid,” Wayne said softly, brushing away a tear. His hands were tough and worn like the hard worker he was, but they were soft and gentle like a parent should be.

“Thank you. I know you told me not to say it, but thank you for being my family. I- I love you Wayne.” His face dropped slightly, his own dark eyes filling with tears, “Oh Honey come here.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. The smell of his aftershave and cigarettes was a common comfort. A smell you loved.

His stubble brushed your head as his kissed you lightly, “I love you too kid.” You stayed like that for a while, arms wrapped around one another. “You can stay here forever.”

The movie continued to play and you got comfy, both taking drinks of your cocoa. A beautiful silence settled between you. A silence of a father and a daughter, a loving quiet. The enjoyment of one’s company without many words.

That was until a door creaked and heavy steps came towards the pair of you. Looking up you met a pair of sleepy eyes and crazy hair. “Where’d you go?” Eddie asked, his voice rough with sleep, as he plopped himself next to you.

“Just came for a drink,” you spoke, placing the still warm mug in his hand. He hummed, drinking a bit, “Wayne’s famous cocoa.”

You nodded, placing your head on Eddies shoulder, your own hand finding Wayne’s.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asked.

“Just one of those nights.” His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Sweetheart-“

“Don’t worry Son, she’s okay.”

“Thank you Wayne,” he nodded to his uncle.

“I am okay. I promise, me and Wayne spoke. Think I’m gonna be staying here for a while, if that’s okay with you?” Eddies face broke into a grin, “Of course it’s okay. I love you being here.”

The love you felt was unconditional, it was something that you knew would never leave you. It was beautiful and pure. The kind of love you never expected to find. It was the love you needed. The love you deserved.

Your eyes became heavy, listening to Eddies heart you drifted off.

“Thank you for looking after her,” Eddie spoke. “Of course. Think she needed a parent tonight.”

“You are the best parent you know, we’re lucky to have you.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, now take your girl to bed. She needs some rest.”

Eddie nodded, shifting you gently, arms coming to rest behind your back and under your knees. The journey was a short one, Wayne followed behind him the whole way.

Placed on the bed carefully, you didn’t stir, body clearly exhausted. Eddie brushed the hair away from your face, smiling at you softly, at the peace you were feeling.

Moving round to his side of the bed, Wayne pulled the cover up over you, speaking softly, “Goodnight Honey, night Son.”

“Night Wayne.” The older man pulled the door too, allowing some beams of light to sneak through. It gave you comfort on bad nights, to know you were safe, you weren’t lost in the darkness.

Eddie pulled your back into his chest, holding you close. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he placed a soft kiss behind your ear, “I love you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : all the love for uncle wayne!!!

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

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dejwrld · 7 months

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— number 7 on paradis titans hockey team can get a little mean after he loses a game.

( cw ) ⸻ modern au, sports au, profanity, mean dom!jean in 4k hd ultra, female anatomy, her/she pronouns, afab, established relationship (reader and jean are married with a child), reader implied to black, creampie, impact play, oral ( f.receiving), slight spit kink, spanking, breeding kink, pet name usage (good girl, babygirl) he's just a lil salty he lost a game, i promise i ain't showing favoritism to najma lmfao, this fic was second place for the poll i posted week ago, wc: 2.1k, minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dedicated jean baby mother aka @honeybleed

When Jean lost a game, you always seemed to walk on eggshells. The nicely decorated home grows silent as a mouse when your family enters the mansion. Your son seemed to fall asleep during the long ride from the ice rink to the house, and you only tucked him in his bed after stripping him out of his clothes. Neatly folding up the hockey jersey with his father's number on it and placing it away, you placed a loving kiss on top of his sandy brown colored curls before exiting the room. You were sure to close the door behind you since you weren't sure how Jean would react due to losing the game.

When Jean's team lost, he grew quiet. A little too quiet. His interviews with ESPN and other sports outlets weren't as cheerful and confident. You could literally see the frustration and sadness in his light brown hues. The rides home are always silent, other than the questions your five-year-old would ask randomly. As a new wag (an obnoxious term for wives & girlfriends of sports players), you always ask the other partners how exactly they handle huge losses.

Eren's wife, Emilia would only shrug, mumbling about how Eren usually forgets about the loss after a day or two before he's back on the ice, perfecting any screw-ups he made during the game. Connie's girlfriend CJ would make a subtle joke about giving him head after the game to make him forget about the disappointing end of the hockey team's season.

You walked towards the master bedroom of your home, your body leaning against the door frame as you watched Jean tug off the Grey Nike sweatshirt he wore. He tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner of your room, now only in a white wifebeater. His toned arm flexed with each movement he made as he shuffled around the room. Occasionally, his gold necklace with your initials and your son's initials moved with each quick motion he made.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know it was such an important game," Your tone was soft-spoken and came out as if you were whispering.

"Strip." was the only thing Jean uttered as he was undoing the string on his Nike jogger pants.

Your lip gloss-covered lips parted to speak, but in the back of your mind, you were just thinking about making Jean happy. He was going through some wild emotions at the moment, and who were you to object against them. They lost the opportunity to compete for the Stanley Cup, so you knew the man in front of you was seeing complete red at the moment.

"Keep my jersey on, though. Everything else off." He huffed.

You stepped further inside the room, your back backing into the door to close it so you wouldn't wake up your son. Your fingers begin to unbutton the jeans you were wearing, slowly tugging them off your smooth legs. Soon, your panties joined them as Jean's index finger motioned for you to come here. With each step you took, you could feel the cool breeze in your room hit your bare bottom, sending a chill down your spine.

When you were face to face with Jean, he didn't say much. However, you could feel how hot he was. How frustrated he was. One harsh push on your king-sized bed caused your lips to let out a gasp. Your body hit the bed like a fragile little doll Jean wanted to play with. He's grabbing a hold of your ankle that was decorated with the gold anklet with his name on it with a cursive font. His lips placed soft kisses on your ankle, causing you to squirm under his firm touch. You expected him to treat you like a fragile rag doll that had just been snitched up. But boy, was you wrong. In one motion, he had turned your body around so that you were lying on your stomach, mumbling about how he needed you so badly.

"Be a pretty wife and get on all fours, m'kay," He said lowly.

You did what you were told, getting on all fours. The oversized jersey that formally belonged to Jean raised just a bit to be able to see the cup of your ass. A low yelp tumbled out your mouth when you felt Jean's large hands slap at the flesh of your ass before you could feel his hand massage the stinging flesh. A sharp hiss came out of you when you felt another slap on the opposite cheek; Jean once again repeated the process of massaging your ass cheeks. He's teasingly letting a coo tumble off his lips as you can only stutter out his name like a broken record.

"Just want to taste you real quick," His words were soft yet intimidating. He angled your body provocatively so you felt like such a filthy woman. "Just stay like that for me, please," he says before his callous fingertips are traced alongside your puffy lips. The teasing action caused your skin to be littered with goosebumps.

Once again, you desperately coughed up a yelp when you felt him slap at your throbbing cunt that was aching for his attention. The similar motion he did with your asscheek, Jean's multimillion-dollar massage at your pussy. This time, your wetness coated his fingers ever so negligibly. "You like it when I do that, huh?" He asked.

He didn't wait for you to respond before kneeling to taste you. The flat of his tongue collided with your puffy lips to lick up your juices formed just by his spankings. A weak whimper came out of you as you seemed to relax in his touch as he was eating you out. When Jean wanted to taste, he wanted to taste every fiber of you. Practically burying his face in the messiness between your thighs caused your toes to curl.

"Jean." You moaned out as you felt him glide his tongue up your slit. The lewd sound of him slurping up the mess he was making bounced off the bedroom walls. You could feel the sharpness of his nose poking you from the back; the man practically was devouring you at the moment. You were so close to breaking the perfect arch, but you knew what consequences were to come.

"Fuck." You moaned before you reached out, clawing at his sandy brown hair. Your fingers grabbed his hair as you rocked backward upon his kitten licks. Your orgasm was right there; you were so close to the finish line while your knees were growing hazy.

But Jean soon pulled away, letting your body fall limp like a deflated balloon that's lost all its air. Your poor cunt felt like it was pulsing, your orgasm was snatched away from you, and the lump of pleasurable despair disappeared.

"I can't have you cummin' just yet, baby girl," Jean commented. The little facial hair he had was stained with your juices. His upper lip lingered with your scent, and his tongue tasted like you. Maybe that made the man in a complete trance all over again.

His grey sweatpants grew tight at the crotch area. His dick was screaming to be released from the tight compress of his sweats and boxers. Jean quickly pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them like an over-enthusiastic virgin that was about to get a spliff of pussy for the first time. His blood was fuming, and he was still a bit frustrated by the loss. Especially considering the number of penalties he racked up during the game. His cock bulged in the black-colored Ethika boxers (another sponsorship he received for singing a multimillion-dollar contract) before he tugged them down also. His thick cock tapped at his toned torso when his boxers came down also.

Once again, he's grabbing onto you like a doll, dragging your whithering body toward the end of the bed. His hand firmly pushed your lower back to ensure your arch was perfect. It was a wonderful sight to see his beautiful wife completely exposed like this to him. A lovely ass up face-down position just so he can have his way with him.

You were anticipating for Jean to shove his cock inside you. Despite it being the same dick you've ridden, sucked, choked on, and the list goes on, you still found yourself chewing your lower lip off at adjusting to his girth. He was a grower for sure, with a slight curve that could kiss at that spot that caused your pedicures toes to curl. Your favorite part of his dick was his tip. It was a splendid sight when you would climb under the covers to suck him off when he complained about morning wood. It was a nice mushroom shape with a slit that gushed out so much cum when he wanted to.

"You know if you relax. You'll get used to it quicker." Jean suggested. With his slender digits climbing up the jersey, you had on to undo the bra you were wearing.

With quickness, you're removing your bra tossing it to the side with ease. Your hips bucking to receive any form of friction between Jean and yourself, but you could only feel his tip tap at your sopping entrance. "Don't be so fuckin' rude, and wait," Jean uttered as he grabbed a hold of his cock. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. Teasing you bit by bit before he's pooling all of the spit in his mouth and letting it drop down on his cock. His hand stroked his dick quickly before he once again was poking at your entrance.

"You want to make me feel better after that horrible game, right?" Jean questioned.

You only nodded as you were on all fours, your fingers grasping at the sheets below you before your mouth gasped apart, feeling him stretch you out. He didn't even wait until you adjusted to his huge size before he was pushing himself inside you like a madman. His hands grasping at your asscheeks just to feel upon you a little more. His thrusts weren't the usual slow and passionate filled; they were harsher. He was genuinely fucking you like he hated you. It was your fault that the team was two points short of going to the play for the Stanley Cup. You could only let out poor pathetic moans, moaning out for Jean.

"That's a good fuckin' girl; you're taking my dick so well," Jean uttered as his hips bucked forward into the plush of your ass. His eyes glowed excitedly at the sight of your pretty pussy, swallowing him with each thrust. The mixture of your wetness and the spit he coated on his coat was imprinted on your thighs like a nasty masterpiece.

He had one hand holding your back down while the other was grasping at the hockey jersey with his last name on it. He gripped the jersey severely to have some form of control over his brass thrusts. Ignoring your whimpers for him to slow down, or you would cum.

"Don't cum." Jean uttered out.

His words were more like a command, a dangerous warning you wanted to poke at until he exploded.

"Please Jean..." You whined into the pillow, which at this point was stained with your own drool and tears.

"What did I say, hm?" He questioned. His right hand slapped at your ass cheek causing you to let out a whine.

"Don't...cum," You hiccupped between moans.

Jean would only hum in agreement. His hips irrationally bottomed inside your dripping cunt before he pinned your arms behind your back. His tight grip on you caused you to chew at your lip as if it were some chew toy. "We'll cum together like it's supposed to fuckin' be," He commented.

You felt so lightheaded at the intense amount of stimulation upon your body. Your limbs felt like they were screaming for you to relax, and the burning sensation that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was ready to burst.

Jean's hold he had on your folded arms only grew tight with each shove forward into your pussy. He could feel his balls grow heavy each time he tapped at that one spot that caused your eyes to cruise in the back of your head. Jean's eyes were shifted closed as he was so pussy drunk, the harsh groan that grumbled off the back of his neck caused his Adam's apple to move. His thick white cum filled you up to the brim as you moaned through the sensation. Jean brought the ends of his wifebeater up to his teeth, nibbling at the ends as he rocked you on his cock slowly. He could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock, milking him of every droplet of his cum. His brown hues practically glistened at the creamy sight of a white ring around his cock with each slow thrust.

When he pulled out slowly, letting the hold he had on you go and watching you collapse breathlessly on your stomach. His fingers combed through his hair, which seemed to stick to his forehead due to the intense workout.

"I feel much better now, baby, thank you."

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #aot x reader #aot smut #anime smut #anime x reader #black reader #aot x black reader #female reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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luniarix · 3 months

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I JUST WANT THE FANTASY…!

synopsis: in which you spend valentine’s day with toji ❤︎ inspired by kali uchi’s “fantasy”！！

NOTE: i finally. figured out. how to do the font color gradient. LESSGOOOO!!! YALL DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HYPED THIS MAKES ME,, but anyway! happy valentine’s day everyoneee ♡ no matter if you’re spending this year on your own, with your friends, or partner, remember to show yourself so much love today and always ₍₍ (̨̡⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)̧̢ ₎₎ ！！ muchos besitos 🩷

CW: fem!reader, poc reader in mind, fluff, non-explicit smut, praising, showers of affection, soft sex, lingerie!!, established relationship, softdom!toji, cream pie, food!play (whipped cream and strawberries hehe), dirty talk, blowjob, self-fingering, cowgirl!position, whipped!toji, whipped!reader,, both of y’all are just madly in love, non-proof read (i will come back later), u get the idea right? right!

valentine’s day with toji!means that as soon as you wake up, you’re greeted with the fresh smell of breakfast. as you’re walking into the kitchen, you’re squealing in surprise as toji picks you up and twirls you around with ease. he shows you to the dining table and pulls your chair out, and brings you your big plate of food; filled with your favorite treats. you look up at him like a child who’s been served their most favorite food ever, and he’s chuckling at the way your eyes twinkle. beautiful, he thinks.

valentine’s day with toji!means that as soon as you’re done eating together, he takes you by the hand and leads you down the hallway of rose petals and into the living room, in which a gigantic teddy bear holding a heart, lots of designer gifts, candy bags, heart balloons, and a sign that says “will you be my valentine?” is waiting for you. you’re looking at him as if he’s crazy, and then you two have a laughing fit as you pull him into a sweet kiss as you nod, whispering a “you know damn well what my answer is, baby.” in between.

valentine’s day with toji!means that you’re watching a favorite comfort movie together, both laughing and cracking jokes every few minutes, and toji is ever so softly drawing circles around your waist as he pulls you in closer; nuzzling his chin on your head and leaving forehead pecks. you tilt your head up to catch his lips against yours, the kiss that was supposed to be innocent and sweet turning into a heated make out session as he holds your face in his big hands, and you’re squeezing his shoulders. your tongues dance against each other, and you gently nibble on his bottom lip as you pull away before it got too hard to do so. you quickly tell him that you’re going to take a bath and then give him the gifts you had gotten for him as well.

valentine’s day with toji!means that when you finish washing your body, you giddily skip over to your closet and pull out the lingerie set you had bought for this occasion a few weeks ago. once you laid your eyes on it, you knew that this was going to be the perfect surprise for him. as you slip it on, you become more and more aroused by the minute. just the thought of toji’s piercing eyes never leaving yours or your body had you going crazy, and you knew that he’d so much fun taking it off. you spin around in the mirror, very much in love with the way you look, and with a few sprays of perfume, a few final touch ups— you’re out the door on your way back to toji.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once you walk back into the living room, toji’s eyes immediately change into a recognizable carnal expression. your body is covered in goosebumps, nipples perked against the thin lace fabric that barely covers your pretty tits. you place the gifts that you brought out with you to the side and slowly slide yourself onto his lap, gyrating your hips in a salacious manner. you begin to undress toji, starting with his shirt first, while you kiss from his jaw down to his neck, sucking a little harder on his sweet spot. he's kneading at your hips and ass, grinding his erection against your clothed cunt. you're moaning in delight as you leave a trail of hickeys down to his tatted chest, all while you feel toji slipping off the straps of your lingerie.

valentine’s day with toji!means that he's reaching for the whipped cream and a small bowl of strawberries from the living room table (that you hadn't even noticed were there) with a cheeky grin, and you know what was about to go down. toji's quick to have your tiddies out, as he places swirls of whipped cream on your nipples, dipping the strawberries into the cream and eating them in a leisure manner, and once he's done it on both your nipples, he adds more whipped cream on your nipples and tits to lick it off of you. you're whining and throwing your head back while squeezing his biceps to support your trembling body. the feeling of his teeth gently pulling at your skin and then soothing the soft sting by licking away at where he nipped, had your mind spinning.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once he's done playing with your mounds, you're quick to get on your knees and in between his legs. you place whipped cream from his lower abdomen down to his happy trail, feverishly licking away and creating marks. with toji’s help, you pull down his sweats and boxers as his cock eagerly springs out, softly slapping his left thigh. you swallow down a groan, placing your hands at his shaft. you begin to jerk him off as you leave wet kisses from his tip down to his balls, and back up again. once you have him in your mouth, toji's soft groans get louder, and you reach a hand down to move the lace fabric to the side, running two digits down your clit and slowly inserting into your pussy. you gag on toji's length when you push him in as far back as you can, and the whine that vibrates throughout your throat sends him over the edge along with the way you're looking up at him with teary eyes as you fondle his balls with your other hand.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once he shoots a load into your mouth, he pulls you back up to quickly (but carefully) yank off the rest of the lingerie, only leaving you in your thigh highs. you're now on his lap once more, fisting his cock as you rub your puffy folds and clit against his soft-pink tip. once you feel like you're slick enough to slip him inside you, you line him up with your entrance and slowly but surely slide down his length and girth. murmurs of "you're doing so great sweetheart," and "you feel so fuckin' good baby, cmon, you can do it," eggs you on to continue. and even after the regular sex, you felt like he was splitting you apart for the first time every time. and you loved it. you cry out in pleasure when you finally have all of him in you, and you're eager to begin bouncing on his cock. your thighs are trembling, and toji's "fuck"s and "oh yeah"s have you twitching in ecstasy as you grip onto his knees to support your body. toji is practically on the brink of cumming already when he sees the way your ass is rippling against his thighs, the clapping noises making him grin devilishly.

valentine’s day with toji!means that when you reach your limit, you're arching your back as a high-pitched whine releases from your throat, eyes crossing as you shake in pure delight. toji's lolling his head back as he grits his teeth, soft whimpers leaving his lips as he soon after cums inside of you, a creamy white ring forming at the base of his cock. you're breathing heavily and he's panting, but that doesn't stop you two from looking at each other for a few seconds; and then hungrily kissing. when you pull apart from each other, he's looking up at you as if you're the only person in the world, the only one that really matters. and you know that rings true as he intertwines your fingers together, leaving a gentle peck on your hand as he never loses eye contact with you. the way he loves you, not only on valentines, but every day, will always be something you cherish.

valentine’s day with toji!means that you're being pulled down into the couch with him, arms securely wrapped around your waist, and legs hooked over yours as he gives you a boyish grin. god, if only he knew the way you see him, the way you think about him. and when you're telling him that you two should probably get to opening your gifts as you were excited to see his reaction in what you got him, he's shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "we can do that later, baby. how 'bout a round two first?" a smirk forms on his lips when you lightly hit his chest, but your flushed cheeks and pleading gaze say otherwise. he knows you all too well.

i hope this wasn't too late for valentines!! hehe. feel free to leave ideas in my inbox or a comment ♡ if i made any grammar mistakes that i missed, lmk! and thank u so much for reading (●´ω｀●)

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theclairvoyage · 2 days

Text

Sour Lemonade (One-shot)

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Your nephew's little league baseball games take up many of your summer evenings, and it's not the dust or the concession stand treats that keep you coming back - it's one of the coaches, Joel Miller.

Pairing: Little league coach!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI! alternate universe, adult language, alcohol consumption, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fluff, flirting, angst, mentions of physical violence, light choking, baseball talk, mentions of child death, mentions of infidelity

WC: 12k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Dust flies into your face, obscuring your view of the baseball diamond. “Fuck,” you spit, the sudden inconvenience enraging you. Aggressively, you wipe your lips with the back of your forearm, noticing now how sticky, slimy, and itchy your skin is from all the sweat and dirt. And the pirate bugs are relentless, tiny daggers pricking your pores at every moment. Each swat of your exposed skin produces a tiny black smear, only to be replaced by another miniscule, predatory black dot.

“Does anyone have some goddamn bug spray?” Anger invites itself to the baseball game now, alarming some of the innocent parents watching their 8-year-old sons try to play America’s favorite pastime. Your sister, who dragged you to this hell hole, tugs on your sleeve as she hops up from the bleachers.

“Jesus, can’t go anywhere without you cussing up a storm… no wonder your nephew knows all these colorful words,” she scolds you, your name rolling off her tongue with a sharp bite as she stomps over to the bathrooms. The rage inside you cools a bit, returning to its home in the corner of your stomach. She swings her tote from under her arm to her front, digging in the bottomless pit for some bug spray. She pulls out a pink spray bottle with feminine letters, and you already know it doesn’t have DEET.

“Sorry, Mer—for the cussing. But also, do you have anything containing any carcinogens? Need ultra strength right now,” you say, trying to ease the tension. She snorts and rolls her eyes, exchanging the pink bottle for a familiar green one. OFF! is plastered in big font on the front.

“Ahhhh,” you sigh, spraying the familiar harsh scent on your skin and clothes. She laughs, taking a big step away from the cloud of haze surrounding you. The mist cools your skin, though you know it’ll stick once it’s dried—you don’t care at this point. It’s the third inning, and you can’t handle another hour and a half of being a trained insect assassin.

“Thanks. Also, how d’ya know Noah isn’t learning cuss words at school? Or on YouTube,” you remind her, pointing a DEET-covered finger in her face. She ponders it for a moment, jaw ticking back and forth.

“Well, either way—these parents are going to blacklist you if you don’t put a filter on it.” You wave her off, grimacing.

“Meredith, let me put it bluntly—I don’t give a fuck,” you say, accentuating the last word and sticking your neck out. She laughs loudly and smacks your shoulder.

“Y’know, Noah loves that you come to his games. And I want to keep you around, so… I guess I can tolerate it,” Meredith says with a half-smirk, snatching the green bottle from your sticky fingers. “Let’s go back before the damn game is over.”

“Hey! Language!” you point at her, eyes widening in mock shock. A throaty laugh leaves her lips. The wind picks up again, sending a twister of dirt and dust your way, so hard it stings your legs. You curse yourself for not wearing pants.

Back at the bleachers, you find that your language is the least concern of these parents. It’s the bottom of the fourth inning, and the score is 2-9. Noah’s team looks somber as they take the field. Moms are perched on their bleacher chairs with crossed legs, quietly fanning their faces with paper programs with pursed lips. Dads spit their sunflower seeds and tobacco into the grass aggressively with arms crossed, shaking their heads with each dropped ball and fumbled groundout. A sharp contrast is the cacophony of shrill screams and boisterous laughter from children running around the nearby empty fields, with not a care in the world. They’re just happy to be here.

“Sheesh… tough night,” Meredith says solemnly in your ear. You nod, sucking your lips into your mouth. The pitcher on Noah’s team walks another batter, and a man, presumably one of the coaches, emerges from the dugout and steps onto the field, holding his palm up to the umpire.

“Time!” The umpire calls, waving both hands in the air a few times. You study the man as he approaches the pitcher, surprised at what you see.

He’s taller than average, but not too tall. His trim body is lined with lean muscle, though he’s somewhat soft in the middle. Broad shoulders stretch his gray t-shirt. Graying brunette curls peek under his hat, kissing the top of his strong, tanned neck. Strong legs stride quietly, though confidently, toward the poor boy, who is clearly distraught. The man kneels and puts a hand on the pitcher’s shoulder as he speaks to him. The boy nods, cracking a small smile and sniffling as the man jostles him softly. He told a joke, perhaps—whatever it took to get the kid to smile. You find yourself smiling, too, watching the pair interact. The man has a calming presence that seems to have trickled into the crowd. The tension in the air is less frigid, palpable. He high-fives the boy and stands, returning to the dugout. His gaze sweeps the field, giving his players a thumbs up, before turning to the crowd and locking eyes with you.

Shit. His face takes your breath away, complete with a curved nose, high cheekbones, plush lips crowned with a full mustache, and an angled jawline dotted with brown and gray hairs. His smoldering chocolate eyes, though, are what hypnotize you the most. He’s still staring at you, likely analyzing the structure of your features like you are to him. You notice his stride falters momentarily before catching himself, but his eyes never stray from yours as he returns to the dugout. Heat radiates from your cheeks. Your heart thuds in your chest, pulse racing at this gorgeous stranger checking you out. Meredith nudges you with her elbow.

“I’ve never seen anybody get eye-fucked like that,” she whispers, and you can’t prevent the loud guffaw that escapes from your mouth. You clap a hand over your mouth quickly and whip your head toward her.

“Who is that?!” you squeal, clutching her wrist.

“That’s Joel Miller, one of the coaches,” she whispers, craning her neck to look at him in the dugout. “His nephew is on the team. Brother is that guy sitting behind home plate here,” she points, alerting you to an attractive Latino man with shiny black curls and a similar strong nose. Damn. He’s fine as hell, too. Before you turn to look at him again, Meredith grips your leg.

“He’s staring over here, don’t look,” she whispers. You can’t help but smile and feel giddy, like a sixth grader developing their first crush.

The game ends on a higher note, with Noah’s team lessening the gap and ending 6-10. As parents trickle from the stands to wait for their boys out by the dugout, you try to catch a glimpse of Joel, who is picking up stray baseball bats and gloves, handing them to their rightful owners. Noah ambles over to Meredith and you, grin plastered on his dirt-stained face. He wraps his sweaty arms and hands around your midsection.

“Hey, buddy. You did great,” you beam at him. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, big blue eyes laced with disappointment.

“We didn’t win, though,” he laments, wiping his dirty face off on your shirt.

“S’not all about winning, my dude. Gotta have fun and try to get better every day,” you comfort him, patting the back of his sweaty jersey.

“That’s some good life advice right there,” a deep, sexy, Southern-accented voice interrupts. You snap your head up and see Joel, who’s already looking at you. God, he’s even more attractive up close, and he smells good, like pine and musk. His eyes travel your face before dipping down to your lips, quickly reverting to your eyeline.

“Joel! This is my sister,” Meredith introduces you, pulling Noah from your grasp. Joel holds out a hand. You grab it and shake, relishing the warmth and size of his hand. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he lets go.

“Nice to meet ya. I think some of the parents are gettin’ drinks later, after puttin’ the Rugrats to bed,” he says, flashing a jaw-dropping smile at you. Meredith chimes in, saving you once again from your own awkward silence.

“That sounds great! We’ll definitely stop by, right?” she asks you, nudging you. You tear your eyes from Joel’s and nod.

“Yes—though I need a shower. I stink,” you admit, scrunching your nose. A deep chuckle emits from Joel, shoulders shaking with laughter. Your heart skips a beat.

“Y’can’t be that bad—at least y’look good,” he says with a grin, pearly whites blinding you. Your heart falters completely at his compliment and you’re frozen, like a mosquito inside a solid block of amber. Meredith, for the umpteenth time today, saves you from looking like an absolute fool.

“Joel, wait ‘til you see her all cleaned up! We gotta go get this kiddo showered and ready for his sleepover, see you in a bit!” she says, clutching your wrist and leading you and Noah toward the parking lot. Peering over your shoulder, you catch Joel’s eyes drifting up and down your figure. His smile fades, expression morphing from excitement, to astonishment, to desire. Oh, fuck.

Two hours later, Meredith and you are arm in arm, walking up to the bar the parents and coaches had chosen for the rendezvous. The summer heat has loosened its grip on the city, with gentle summer gusts and a Starburst-colored sunset replacing it. Your dirty and sweat-ridden clothes are replaced with some jean shorts and a fresh muscle tee, and you remembered to put lotion on your legs for once.

Meredith opens the creaky wooden entrance door, and you spot the baseball group in a corner of the bar. Eight parents and all coaches are here, each sporting a mug of some light and probably domestic beer. All greet you with either a wave or a loud greeting—they must’ve gotten started drinking early. You spot Joel sitting next to his brother, Tommy—both are staring at you as you approach the group.

“Since you’re late, you have to buy shots,” says one of the moms, lifting her empty beer glass.

“Fine, Katy—but it’s gonna be tequila!” Meredith quips, inciting a grimace from Katy and cheers from all the men at the table. “Let’s go up to the bar,” Meredith murmurs in your ear, setting your purses down on two empty chairs the group saved for you. You try not to look at Joel but feel his magnetizing gaze on you, and you make eye contact with him. His eyes are molten dark chocolate, sweeping over your face with a glimmer of want. You crack a small smile and his eyes latch onto your lips immediately. Before your knees buckle, you break eye contact and follow Meredith to the bar.

“So, you gonna fuck him, or what?” She teases once you’re both out of earshot of the group. You land a playful slap on her arm and drop your jaw.

“Mer! I don’t even have his number! Or know how old he is, or if he’s an ex-con, or a child molester, or a serial strangler,” you ramble, pulling a laugh from her.

“He’s not any of those things, but he’s in his fifties, I know that. Doesn’t look like it, though,” she says, eyebrows arching. He’s got some years on you, for sure, but you’ve had an experience or two with an older man—though this one terrifies you. His eyes alone could convince you to do almost anything.

The bartender pours up double-digit tequila shots, garnished with salted rims and limes, and plops them on a serving tray. Meredith hoists it up and you walk back to the table, making sure to put some extra swing in your hips in case Joel’s watching. You can tell from your peripheral that he is, in fact, staring at you. Something fizzes in your chest—warm, wanting.

“Cheers to not getting run-ruled today!” Tommy cheers as everyone clinks their shot glasses together. You down yours quickly, anticipating the spicy aftertaste. And boy, it burns like hell as it glazes down your throat. You suck on the lime and try not to shiver. Whoops and cheers fill the empty bar as everyone finishes their shots.

After a few beers and shots later, you’re feeling loose and giddy. Your end of the table is talking about the godforsaken umpire from tonight’s game, somewhat split from the other half of the table, which is discussing the MLB playoffs. Feeling a familiar pull, you turn and see Joel smiling at you. Once you make eye contact, he winks, which sends you reeling. He’s about to get up from his seat when one of the moms waltzes her way over to him, curling her polished claws around his shoulder.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he preferred her over you—she’s petite, with long blonde hair, tan skin, blue eyes, and perky fake boobs. She looks great, you admit, and she’s closer to his age. Sadness looms in your belly and your smile fades as his attention diverts to her. Oh well, you think. Good thing it didn’t go too far. Resigned, you join the conversation and try to focus on anything but Joel.

The night carries on, and you find yourself unbothered by Joel. Meredith completely let loose, singing along to the music echoing throughout the bar. Everyone at your end of the table is telling jokes, clinking glasses, and enjoying each other’s presence. It’s a fun night, you admit to yourself. You made every effort to not pay attention to the other end of the table but felt Joel’s eyes on you constantly.

What you didn’t realize was how much he wanted you to be the one pressed up against him, with his arm curled around your waist or his rough fingers stroking the smooth skin of your thigh. He needed to get away from this kid’s mom—she was newly divorced and obviously ready for a rebound. Yeah, she was attractive, but nothing about her excited him—if anything, he was irritated by her blatant advancements. The final straw was when she crept her hand up his denim-clad thigh and squeezed close to the apex.

“The hell are you doin’?” he says with a laugh, incredulous. She licks her glossy lips and leans in toward his ear.

“Oh, I think you know, big boy,” she murmurs in her sexiest voice. Joel is turned off. Not wanting to be rude, he lightly grips her wrist and pulls her hand back. You, unfortunately, look over right as he grabs her hand.

“Not interested, dear,” he murmurs back, watching the frustration grow on her face.

“Fine, Miller—there’s plenty more who want it,” she boasts. She snatches her manicured hand away and moves onto your side of the table, picking another innocent victim.

Annoyed, you stand and walk up to the bar, back facing the group. Guess her little routine worked on Joel—he really ate it up, even touched her arm. You chide yourself for letting this unnerve you—you don’t even know the guy, and for all you do know, he might be a sleazeball.

“Need a break from the loudmouths?” the bartender asks, half smiling. You nod, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Too much testosterone over there,” you retort, “I’ll take a Sprite.” She nods and punches a button on the soda gun, filling up a tall glass. Staring at the bubbles fizzing over the ice cubes, you feel a breeze on your side. It’s Joel, finally separated from his bimbo of the night.

“Hey, darlin’, can I get you a drink?” he asks, smooth, sugary voice tickling your eardrums. He sounds sexy as fuck. You hold his gaze but don’t smile, creating an icy wall between the two of you.

“Is your girlfriend okay with that?” you sneer, turning to take a sip of your Sprite. His shoulders sag just slightly, but you see it from the corner of your eye.

“She ain’t my girl, promise. She’s tryna find a rebound,” he murmurs apologetically. You shrug.

“Seems like she was getting close to getting one.” Ouch. It hits low and painful in his belly, though he understands.

“Listen, I know what it looked like. Promise ya, it ain’t nothing. She ain’t my type,” he says, eyes sweeping your face. Guilt pangs you, and you turn to look at him. Fuck. His eyes are solemn, repentant—he’s saying sorry, and he doesn’t even need to. You sigh deeply, feeling that the alcohol is forcing you to be honest with him.

“Joel, look—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha—,” you start, but he interrupts you, putting a calloused palm up and shaking his head.

“No need t’apologize, sweetheart. I get it. She was all over me,” he says, end of his sentence filled with a playful tone. You giggle quietly.

“Oh yeah, she was two seconds away from sinking her teeth into you,” you joke, chuckles exchanging between the two of you. Relief fills you, warm and cleansing. He stares at you for a moment before speaking again.

“So, that drink…” he says, a lopsided grin plastered on his rugged face. God, he’s handsome. You can’t hold off much longer.

“I ‘spose,” you tease, “Guess you owe me one, anyway.” His half-grin turns whole, smile sending a zip of desire down your spine. He leans close to your ear, sweeping your hair over your shoulder. The touch of his warm skin on yours and the proximity of him almost makes you jump.

“I’ll make it up t’ya, swear on it,” he says, voice an octave lower and Southern accent dripping with something you’re not quite ready to identify. You clamp your thighs together instinctively, another shiver rippling through you like that of the tequila shot. Joel waves the bartender over and orders your drink of choice and whiskey neat.

“So… you live with Meredith?” Joel inquires, watching you as he sips the amber liquid. You shake your head, twirling the straw around your drink.

“Nope, but I might as well with how much I’m over there, helping with Noah and whatnot.” He nods.

“I had a daughter once. Y’know what they say… it takes a village,” he says, tone laced with melancholy. Once?

“I hate to ask, but… what happened to her?” you ask carefully, hesitant to look at him.

“She passed away when she was little. Car accident. S’alright, though—it was a long time ago,” he says, smiling at you wistfully. You put a hand on his bare forearm, and he almost melts into a puddle.

“I’m sorry, Joel. That’s so awful. I can’t imagine experiencing something like that. Noah’s my nephew, but I wouldn’t be able to go on if something happened to him,” you add, hoping to soothe his pain.

“Enough about me, darlin’, I wanna know more about you,” he says, covering your hand with his. His touch is electric on your skin.

“Nothing exciting, trust me,” you say with a shrug. He scoffs.

“I’d be shocked to hear that you’re single,” he says, winking at you again. You shove him playfully.

“Prepare to be shocked,” you quip. He shakes his head and looks up at one of the TVs.

“S’a damn shame,” he laments. The alcohol sends courage racing through your veins.

“For whom?” you tease, mirroring his wink. His smile fades just slightly as he takes you in, desire washing over him. When he speaks again, his voice is even deeper than before.

“Not for me, that’s for sure.” Your stomach drops at his admission, though your face doesn’t show it.

“Yeah? Why’s that, Miller?” He takes another sip of his whiskey, eyes locked on yours.

“You kiddin’? Look at you,” he says, whistling lowly, eyes traversing your frame. If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. You wave him off and sip your own drink.

“Oh, stop. I bet you get the best of the best coming up to you,” you say, playing it cool. He takes another sip, swallowing with a hmm-mm.

“Darlin’, the best of the best is sittin’ next to me, and I reckon I got some groveling t’do if I wanna see her again,” he admits. He takes his baseball cap off, revealing thick, gorgeous curls, hairline swept with gray locks. He runs a hand through them before sliding the cap back on. Admiring his profile, you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Your gaze travels down to his neck, which might just be your favorite part of him at the moment—thick, tan, jugular vein bulging. You can almost see his pulse pounding at his carotid. Fuck, he makes your pulse pound. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, you avert your gaze to your near-empty drink, swishing the ice cubes around nervously. Joel nudges your arm with his elbow. You look at him, trying your hardest to maintain a straight face, but seeing his smile makes you grin.

“What?” you ask, noticing his eyes dipping down to your lips.

“Was just thinkin’,” he says, finishing the last of his whiskey as he eyes you inquisitively.

“About?” you press, tilting your ear toward him and raising your brows. He laughs at your facial expression and leans in, lips brushing your hair and nearly grazing your ear.

“’Bout what it would be like t’kiss you,” he hums, voice dripping with lust. Your eyes widen briefly, shock quickly morphing into nervousness, then anticipation as your stomach twists.

“Think I need another drink before then,” you say, slowly turning to face him. He’s close, close enough that you feel his breath on your face. He’s half-smiling again, brown eyes spanning your face.

“Nervous?” he taunts lowly. You look up at the TV and nod slowly.

“Darlin’, y’got nothin’ to be nervous about. I ain’t gonna make ya do anything y’ain’t comfortable with,” he says, face still close to your ear. You face him again, staring intently into his eyes.

“Oh, it’s not that. I’m afraid… you’ll be hooked,” you test him, hoping your bravado overshadows your nerves. His nostrils flare just slightly before he clears his throat.

“Reckon I need another drink, too—I might not survive,” he says, catching you off guard. A loud laugh escapes your lips. Joel is delighted at the sound and wonders how you’d sound doing other things, like underneath him or as his tongue unravels you. Suppressing an erection, he waves the bartender over and orders both of you another round.

“Wanna get some air?” he questions you, tipping his head toward the patio area. You nod, chewing on your straw nervously. The idea of being alone with him makes you squirm. You stand and he guides you outside, firm hand on your lower back. His fingertips burn into your back.

“Lemme just tell Mer I’m stepping outside,” you say. He nods. “Meet ya out there?” he offers, and you clink the rim of your glass to his in agreement. You watch him saunter over to the patio doors, salivating at the way his jeans hug his hips and ass. Meredith isn’t worried by your absence at all, still laughing and talking loudly with the group. She’s drunk.

“Mer, I’m stepping out back if you need me,” you say into her ear. She turns to you, holding your chin.

“Y’gonna kiss him, finally? He’s been tryna do it for the last hour!” she spits into your ear. Your lips quirk into a smile.

“Maybe, dunno. We’ll find out shortly,” you reply nonchalantly, shrugging as you turn to leave the table. She pinches your ass as you walk away.

Anticipation bubbles in your chest as you get closer to the patio. With a deep breath, you push the doors open and see Joel leaning up against the railing, hip cocked to one side. The patio is dotted with dim string lights and overlooks a small pond with a fountain, moonlight glimmering on the surface. The trickling of the water is soothing, a nice contrast to the loud music and voices inside the bar. He turns his body toward you, arm leaned against the railing as he watches you.

“Thought maybe I scared ya off,” he teases. You stand next to him, arm brushing his as he turns to face the pond again.

“Not in the slightest. Your girl back there, though? Not going within 20 feet of her,” you tantalize him, and he rolls his eyes as he chuckles.

“She ain’t even a blip on my radar, darlin’,” he says, voice shifting from playful to sensual. You feel his hot gaze on your face. Slowly, he dips his head closer to yours. You turn and lock eyes with him. You want him, though your expression is almost hesitant—his is pliant, asking permission. You look down at his plush lips and lean in while closing your eyes.

When your lips finally meet, a sensation roils through you like you’ve never experienced. You feel like a fishing boat in the North Sea, tossed around, dizzy, and soaked by the icy waves as they threaten to pull you under. You’re completely at the mercy of his lips, his touch. The kiss is slow, yet fiery—unlocking passion in both of you that has either been dormant or never existed. At some point, Joel turned to face you and pulled you flush to him, thick arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing you like he can’t afford to let go. You reach for his hair and knock off his baseball cap, and he laughs against your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for your tongues to tangle and the kiss to reach a new level of hot and heavy. He’s gripping your ass; you’re shoving your hands up his shirt. He’s breaking the kiss to nip at your neck and jawline; you’re moaning softly. He’s groaning into your skin at the sounds you make, telling you how good you are; your nails are carving shapes into the skin of his back.

You pull back, panting, fingers still latched onto his curls. Concerned eyes stare into yours, worried he crossed a line. You shake your head and laugh incredulously, glancing over at the moonlit pond. It’s surreal, the way you’re feeling now—none of your dreams have ever been so enchanting as this moment. Joel strokes your cheek softly, needing to know your thoughts.

“Everything alright?” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheekbone.

“Yes! Oh god, everything’s—amazing, I just didn’t know if—,” you stammer, trying to force the thousand thoughts swirling in your mind into a coherent sentence.

“D’you wanna get outta here, darlin’? I understand f’you say no, but good lord, I want you,” he breathes, searching your eyes for a semblance of hesitation or uncertainty. He doesn’t find either. Your pupils dilate ever so slightly, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, sending him over the edge. He smirks and releases you momentarily to pick up his fallen ball cap, tossing the sweaty fabric over his curls before grabbing your hand to guide you back inside. It’s hasty, the way he closes his tab and signs his receipt, tossing the pen back behind the bar with a chuckle.

“Let me tell Mer I’m leaving,” you tell him. He nods.

“I’ll wait here for ya, don’t need ya walkin’ in the dark parkin’ lot alone this time of night.”

“A gentleman, too? Hopefully that doesn’t carry over to the bedroom,” you coo, putting on your sultriest voice. His eyes are black as sin, sweeping over your body slowly.

“Oh, I am—ladies first,” he quips, enjoying the view as you turn to walk toward the table. Meredith is perched on the lap of one of the dads, whispering in his ear.

“Mer—I’m leaving. I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?” You shout over the loud chatter of the group and the music. She winks at you and gives you a languid thumbs up. Still drunk. You narrow your eyes at poor lad she’s sitting on, giving him a silent warning. He throws his palms up in the air in surrender. Meredith rolls her eyes at you before turning back to him.

Joel takes your hand as you walk out of the bar, giving the back a quick kiss. The excitement and thrill of leaving with him has you giddy, springy. Your steps are bouncier than before, confidence buzzing inside you. This fine man wants you, has wanted only you since he laid eyes on you, and is taking you home. Your past one-night stands have never been so exhilarating.

Joel leads you to a big silver truck, opening the passenger door for you and helping you into the plush leather seat. He swats your ass as you hop in, laughing at the yelp that escapes you. Trotting over to the driver’s side, he hops in and wastes no time getting out of there.

“Your place or mine?” He asks as the truck cruises onto a main road.

“Mine,” you reply, starting to feel nervous. Maybe a familiar location will calm your nerves a bit.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” You guide him to your apartment, which is maybe 10 minutes from the bar. He grabs your hand as you both speedwalk into the building, eager to rip your clothes off and finish what you started at the bar.

As soon as you’re inside your apartment, Joel rips his cap off and hoists you up, your back pressed against the door. Your legs encircle his waist and pull, crashing your hips together. His lips devour you hungrily, teeth nibbling your lower lip and hands frantically roaming over you. “Where?” he murmurs in your mouth, and you point to your agape bedroom door. You didn’t make your bed, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck right now, and neither does he. He carries you inside the dark room and lies both of you on the bed, your legs still wrapped around his midsection.

“Need t’see you,” he pants, and you point to the lamp on your bedside table. He twists the knob, filling the room with dim, amber lighting. His mouth latches back onto yours before moving down to your soft neck and collarbone.

“Off,” he says, tugging at the collar of your muscle shirt. You lift your arms up and let him tear the fabric from you, remembering that you didn’t wear a bra once you hear him curse.

“Fuck,” he groans, “look at you.” He squeezes your breasts, taking a nipple into his warm mouth. You inhale sharply, running fingers through his tousled curls as he sucks on one and moves to the other. He kisses down your stomach until he meets denim, sitting up and grasping the waistband of your shorts. He peers at you from poignant, hooded eyes.

“Can I take these off?” he asks softly, surprising you. He’s gentle, obedient, almost submissive to you, though you don’t realize what a treasure you are in his eyes. He wants to savor this, make sure it’s perfect for you. Your chest is heaving, nerves so alight that you almost forget to respond.

“Please,” you affirm, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

You’re already soaked—you felt it once you sat down in his truck, the damp fabric of your panties pushed up into you. He unbuttons and slides your shorts off, leaving your green thong on and licking his lips as he notices the wet spot.

“Jesus… this for me?” he says, returning his needy mouth to your hot skin. You’re squirming in his grip, breathless.

“Yes, fuck,” you huff, whimpers leaving your mouth as he kisses his way down your left hip and bites your inner thigh. You moan, the painful prick of his incisors heightening your pleasure.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, peeking up at you from down below. Bashfulness washes over you at the sight of him between your legs, worshipping your body. You nod feverishly, lower lip between your teeth. He growls lowly and kisses down your leg, stopping at your instep and watching your response before retracing his path. He stops over your clothed mound and kisses featherlight, pulling a groan from you. You feel his smile curve against your core, but he doesn’t oblige you—he kisses down your other leg. You tug on his hair, needing his mouth on your most sensitive spot.

“Needy, ain’t she?” he teases you, breathing hot air on your clothed, throbbing pussy. Your back arches and you sigh heavily at the sensation.

“I’ma give you just what y’need, darlin’, just hold on for me,” he soothes you, teeth pulling the waistband of your thong back slowly. He needs help from his hands, though, so he loops his fingers in the waistband and rids them from you. His gaze is boring holes in you, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“Tongue-tied?” you tease him, watching his eyes roam over your naked body.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls. He shifts downward, lower half on the floor before hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling you toward him. He stares at you as he blows softly on your clit. The chill of the air on your wet core drives you mad, your hips circling involuntarily under his grip. At what seems like a glacial pace, he leans in until his lips touch your clit in a featherlight kiss. Though light, the contact feels like the floor has dropped from underneath you, making you dizzy. His teasing has you so riled up; it won’t take much for you to reach the zenith. His tongue slips out and slowly, almost agonizingly, licks from your entrance to your clit.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. He smirks against your core, impressed with himself for learning your cues early on. He continues licking you languidly, sensually, changing his approach based on your moans, curses, and sighs, each twitch of your hips and death grip of his hair and arms, relishing all of you.

“Like hearing y’say my name,” he purrs, “Y’taste so good.” White-hot pleasure keeps shooting up your spine, like fireworks on July fourth. Your stomach feels tight, like you might snap any second.

“I’m close,” you whimper, hips rolling on his face. He hums in approval into your pussy. You reach down and grip his hands before he pulls one away to prod at your entrance. He curves two broad fingers into you, groaning at how warm and tight you are. A strangled cry escapes your throat at the stretch, part of you worried about how his cock will fit. He pumps his fingers quickly, and you snap, your orgasm taking over every fiber of your being. He talks you through it, praising you and trying not to come himself at the sight of you trembling, arched in pleasure.

After a beat, he removes his fingers and slots himself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself on his wiry mustache and smooth lips.

“Taste good, don’t you?” he croons into your mouth, pulling a low moan from your throat. Gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kiss him, you realize he’s still fully clothed. You tug the hem of his shirt up and he sits on his heels to pull it off, revealing a strong, toned torso with a softness that makes you melt. He notices you admiring him.

“S’not as good as it used t’be,” he chuckles, smiling at you as he tosses his shirt to some corner of the room.

“Shut up. You’re perfect,” you breathe, hands roaming his chest and stomach before landing in his waistband, pulling him back to you. He resists, only to unbutton his denim and slide it off his legs, leaving only his boxers. You reach out and grab his hard length through the thin fabric, gasping at the girth of him. Your fingers don’t even reach all the way around. His head tips back, breathy sigh escaping his lungs at your gentle but firm touch.

“Off,” you parrot his command from earlier, fingers tugging at the elastic waistband of his boxers. Eyes locked on yours, he stands and pulls them off his figure, cock springing as it releases. A mischievous grin creeps over his features after seeing your reaction to his manhood.

Fuck. He’s big, probably bigger than most you’ve had. The length is up there, but the girth is what worries you—he’s so thick.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take care of you,” he soothes you, settling between your legs. Confusion contorts his face, like he forgot something—until frustration sets in.

“I don’t have protection, d’you have anything?” he asks, stroking a slow path from your inner thigh to your hip, making you squirm.

“No, but I’m good—I’m on birth control, and it’s been forever since I’ve had sex with anyone, so I’m clean,” you reply. You can’t even remember the last time you slept with anyone—months, perhaps.

“Me, too,” he adds, “minus the birth control.” His witty response makes you giggle. You sit up and lean forward to kiss him, stopping just before your lips touch.

“I want you inside me. Now,” you whisper, gaze flicking over his face. His eyes flash obsidian before he crashes his lips against yours and lies you both down. He rubs the head of his cock against your soaked folds, the sensation setting your body on fire. Aroused and impatient, you tip him back until your positions are switched, Joel’s head almost hanging off the edge of the bed. He chuckles at you but beams at your confidence. Perched on his lap, you lean back slightly and grind your hips, guiding your lips over his rock-hard length.

“Need a picture of this,” he says, bewildered at the gorgeous woman grinding on his lap, naked and needy for him. His rough palms caress your hips, stomach, breasts, before landing at your shoulders. He pulls you down for a kiss, the new angle pressing your slit flush against his cock, and you shudder.

“Fuck me,” he rumbles, mouth agape, messy salt and pepper curls dipping down to his brow. You sit up, bracing one palm on his chest and using the other to guide him to your dripping entrance. Making sure to watch him, you slowly sink down on him, the stretch splitting you open almost immediately. Your mouth drops and eyebrows arch, the pain and pleasure slowing your movements.

Joel’s face mirrors yours, your tight, soaked cunt squeezing him deliciously. He grits his teeth and grips your ass so hard you’ll have bruises, urging you down further onto him. You slowly take inch by inch until bottoming out, the sudden press of his tip against your cervix making you yelp.

“Okay, baby?” he asks. Your eyes are squeezed shut, breath coming out in heavy pants and hands clawing at his chest as you adjust to the size and thickness of him. A strand of your hair has fallen in your face, moving with each puff of your breath.

“Yes, j-just need a sec,” you whimper. Finally, your inner muscles acclimate to the intrusion of his cock, and you start to move. Each roll of your hips pulls a filthy moan from Joel, whose calloused hands are guiding you up and down his length. You’re whimpering with each thrust, the tip of his cock sending painfully pleasurable shocks up your spine as it slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Just beautiful,” he groans as he watches you bounce on him. It’s a good thing you’re on top, because he would’ve come by now had he been spearing himself into you. “Not gonna last long. Where d’you want me?” he spits.

“Inside me,” you mewl, and before he can react, you take the opportunity to press your chest against his, sweaty foreheads stuck together as you clap your ass against him as hard as you can. Your second orgasm washes over you suddenly, causing you to tuck your head in the crook of his neck as you cry out. Joel takes over, thrusting up into you a few times before grunting your name as he spills into you. Both of your pants and whimpers fill the room as you come down from your high. You’re still on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, pussy wrapped around his cock still as he softens. He rolls you over and pins your arms above your head before dipping his lips down to meet yours in a messy postcoital kiss. You moan into the kiss, and his cock twitches at the sound inside you—he’s not quite hard, but enough to still stretch you out.

“Wanna do it like this next time,” you pant, cupping his cheek. He turns to kiss your palm and moves down to your wrist before latching his lips onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I’d like that, baby,” he purrs into your sweaty skin, “And I like that there’s gonna be a next time.” He rests against you for a moment before slipping out of you with a grunt and standing to find your bathroom. He returns after a minute with a towel, sitting next to you on the bed and wiping his spend from you.

A pang of disappointment washes over you suddenly, not wanting him to leave. One-night stands really aren’t your thing—you don’t want him to get the idea that this is a frequent habit of yours.

You speak his name softly, quietly. He slides back into bed, propping himself on one elbow and giving you his full attention. He tucks some stray hair behind your ear, your eyes closing at the tenderness of his touch.

“Hmm?” he hums, thumb tracing your eyebrow, forehead, temple, whatever part of your face is closest. You open your eyes and see warm, affectionate amber staring back at you. His eyes are so beautiful, so full of emotion, you find yourself unable to talk for a second. He quirks one eyebrow at you, lips sliding into his cheek as he waits for your response.

“D’you wanna stay?” you ask, hesitant. You really don’t know him, or if this is something he likes to do often, or if it was a spur of the moment decision made during your moment of passion at the bar. He leans down and kisses your forehead before pressing a slow kiss to your lips. Pulling back ever so slightly, his breath fans on your face and gaze flicks between each of your eyes before he opens his mouth to reply.

“Yes, I’d love to,” he says. You can’t help the grin that pulls at your cheeks. He twists the lamp, darkness spilling into the room, and tucks you into his chest before pulling the covers over both of you.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he whispers into your hair, and before you can reply, you’re sound asleep.

Morning rolls around, and you find yourself pressed against Joel’s warm back, arms wrapped around his torso and moving up and down with his expanding ribcage. He’s still sleeping, or you think—he woke up not too long ago with you curled into his chest, torn between needing to use the bathroom, and not wanting to let go of you. You looked so serene, so beautiful as the sunrise painted your features. When he came back and tucked himself under the covers, you immediately latched yourself onto him, arms wound tightly around his belly.

Now, you find yourself in the same predicament, needing to use the bathroom but not wanting to disturb him. You slowly unfurl yourself from his broad back, stand from the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom connected to your room.

Joel had opened his eyes once he felt you rise from the bed and watched your naked figure travel across the room, the sight stirring his already half-hard cock. Fuck, you were gorgeous, and he wanted desperately to see your body trembling with pleasure again, the memory of your face twisted in euphoria sewn into his brain. When he heard the bathroom door open, he snapped his eyes shut again, wanting you to think he was asleep.

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to wake him and had a primal urge for some fresh coffee. You search the room for your robe, startling when two warm hands grasp your waist and pull you onto the bed. Joel props himself up against your headboard, legs spread as he pulls you into the open space between them. His strong arms loop around your stomach, pulling you tight until your back is flush with his chest. He tucks his face into your neck, pressing gentle kisses behind and beneath your ear, down the column of your neck.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” he croons, Southern voice raspy with sleep, igniting something inside you. You moan as his lips and teeth mark spots on the map of your skin.

“Coffee, I swear,” you groan, covering his arms with yours and squirming as his mouth continues adorning you.

“Mm. Not done with you yet,” he murmurs, unwrapping one hand from your stomach to palm your breasts. You arch into him, head tipping back on his shoulder. He growls.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he presses, rolling one nipple between rough fingertips before moving to the other. You gasp sharply and nod against his shoulder, hips gyrating and ass rubbing against his hard length. He inhales deeply, the scent of your hair invading his space and heightening his arousal for you.

His palm dips lower, spanning your soft stomach before reaching your inner thigh, goosebumps erupting in its path. Lightly, he scratches at your skin there, loving how pliant your body is underneath his touch. He needs to see your face.

“Look at me,” he orders softly, and you turn your head to see him. God, he looks fucking good. His hair is fucked up from slumber, eyes wanton and full of sleepy desire. There are hints of intrigue and mischief sketched on his face.

Then, he kisses you, teeth tugging on your lower lip. It’s hot, the way he needs you in this moment, the way his tongue reaches for yours, the way his grip tightens around you. His hand dips further south, fingers feeling firsthand how much you want him. He moans at it, the wetness trickling from you.

“Joel,” you whine, his calculated touches teasing you. He swirls his fingers around your bud, almost excruciatingly slow.

“You want me this much?” he breathes into your mouth. Your hips are still rolling, ass feeling how much he wants you.

“Yes—please. Need you,” you moan softly, eyes opening to see him. He looks down, watching and moaning at how your slick coats his fingers. He prods his middle finger at your entrance, inserting it lazily into your tight heat with a groan. You gasp at the soreness of his cock from last night and at the stretch—his finger is thick, close to the size of two of your digits.

“Baby—need to stretch you out. So tight.” He pulls his middle finger out and adds his ring finger to the mix. He curls them once they’re fully sheathed inside you, pads stroking your soft walls. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, yet with enough pressure to send you reeling. The pleasure builds inside you, knotting tightly in your belly. You moan as he continues to unravel you, hips circling around his hand, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he coaxes you, mouth moving to graze your earlobe. He holds it there, between his teeth, pulling it as you come apart on his fingers.

Your orgasm rolls through you slowly, vision spotting as the knot untethers inside your stomach. Joel fucks you through it and praises you, spurring you on more. It’s new for you, someone talking you through your orgasm, and something you didn’t realize you needed.

“Good girl, just like that—did so good for me, baby,” he soothes you, removing his soaked fingers from you. He takes the middle one into your mouth, brushing your tongue, and you suck lightly, moaning at the taste of yourself. His cock jumps.

“Need to taste you again,” he hums, placing his ring finger in his mouth. You watch him relish the taste of you, eyebrows arching and a deep groan escaping his throat.

“Can I fuck you now, baby?” he asks, syllables like chords of a sweet cello. You nod, tugging the back of his head down for a passionate kiss. He maneuvers both of you until you’re underneath him and he’s hovering over the cradle of your hips.

“Gonna go slow,” he says, palms cradling your face.

“Want you to fuck me however you like, Joel,” you whisper, searching his eyes. Brown irises flecked with gold, desire-filled pupils threatening to swallow them. He sits up, tugging your thighs toward him and tucks your knees at his sides. He grips himself and breaks eye contact to watch where your bodies are about to join. He looks up at you as he slips the head of his cock inside your warm entrance, jaw dropping as your walls swallow him.

Carefully, he feeds you inch by inch, eyes never leaving yours until he’s at the hilt. He commits to memory the morphing of your facial expressions as he fills you up—wide eyes, mouth dropping slowly, head tilting back and eyes snapping shut once he reaches the end of you. Only then does he look down to see where he has vanished inside you, moaning at the way your pussy stretches around him as he pulls out slowly.

“You feel so good,” you whine, fingernails lightly scratching his chest and stomach. His head tips back as he sets a pace, your muscles squeezing him and coating him in warm slick.

“Best I ever had—fuck,” he curses, fingertips bruising your hipbones. He pulls you up so your hips are propped up on his lap, leaving space between your back and the bed. You arch, head lolled back and hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Beautiful,” he moans, reaching a palm down to lightly squeeze the column of your throat as he continues pounding into you.

Blood rushes to your head, heightening the pleasure of each thrust. Your body is tingling, almost levitating.

With no notice, your second orgasm zips through you like a gasoline fire, flames scorching your neurons. Joel follows suit, lifting you into his lap, arms wrapped around your torso as he cries into your chest. You tug his curls, tipping his head back in a kiss as he finishes emptying inside you.

You pull back and run your fingers through his hair, stopping to cradle his face in your hands. He beams at you.

“Can I make coffee now?” you tease him, pressing a light kiss to his nose. He laughs warmly, squeezing you tightly and picking you up as he stands from the bed.

“I think that’s acceptable,” he replies, squeezing your ass before letting you stand on your own legs.

“So… when can I see you again?” Joel asks as he puts his shoes on. You’d typed your number into his phone per his request just moments ago and sent yourself a text with his name.

“Are you saying… you want to do this again?” you say, winking at him and dropping your mouth open in mock surprise. He rolls his eyes, standing to pull you into a hug.

“Yes, but not just sex. Unless, uh, that ain’t your thing,” he says, hesitation flashing over his features. You shake your head.

“What we just did isn’t usually my thing. I’d love a date. And more sex if that’s okay.” He snorts.

“It’s more than okay. You showing up to the baseball game tomorrow evening?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the skin in front of your ear. You nod.

“Got a thing for the hot coach. Need to make sure I have my best jean shorts on.” He snorts again, raising an eyebrow at the prospect of seeing you with some short shorts on.

“How about I take you out later this week, then?” You swipe your eyes around the top of the room, lips sliding into your cheek as you try and remember your schedule.

“Friday? I have a busy week at work. Late nights, probably,” you offer. He nods with a big grin.

“It’s a date.”

The next day arrived in blistering fashion. Not a single cloud graced the blue skies, nor the tiniest gust of summer wind. By 5:00 PM, it was still in the lower 90s. You packed a large cooler full of water bottles, Gatorade, various other liquids stashed in your fridge, and snacks for Noah’s baseball game. Excited to see Joel again, you made sure to wear your best jean shorts and threw on a cropped tank top.

You pull up to the baseball field, searching the parked cars for Meredith’s SUV and Joel’s silver truck. You find both, parked at opposite ends of the lot. Your stomach drops slightly when you see his truck. He’s here, obviously—he is one of the coaches. Meredith waits in her SUV for you, hopping out when she sees you strolling up, big cooler in tow.

“Any booze in that?” she winks at you. You nod.

“I had some stray shooters in the fridge. All yours.”

“I believe you have something to tell me, yeah?” she says as both of you walk up to the entrance of the baseball complex. You look over to the field and see Noah’s team warming up in their familiar navy and red uniforms.

Joel is in the grass, hitting pop flies at the outfielders. His broad back is turned to you, the familiar shape sending a pang of anticipation up your spine. The flexing and jumping of his muscles and tendons is getting you hot. Meredith nudges you.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you here! Stop reminiscing,” she scolds you.

“I kinda have to if you want my account of the story, yeah?” you add, mocking her tone playfully. She guffaws.

“Spill. The man was obsessing over you since he saw you at the game.”

“Let’s just say he’s very good at what he does. And he’s a gentleman. He’s taking me out later this week,” you gush, cheeks burning at your recollection of yesterday’s events.

“Knew it. Could tell by the way he walks and looks at you. Mans is whipped. My guy on the other hand? Couldn’t even get it up. Passed out before anything meaningful could happen,” she seethes, eyes rolling.

“All old men are not created equal, Mer,” you joke, jostling her with your elbow.

As you two find home in the bleachers, you see Miss Blonde Ambition eyeing you from the concession stand. She looks pissed off, Juvéderm-filled lips contorted in a scowl and lifeless eyes swiping up and down your frame as she sloshes her Stanley cup around aggressively. Meredith notices, too.

“Guess she’s not too happy her usual antics didn’t work,” she gripes. You try not to give too much attention to the woman.

“What’s her name? I don’t even think Joel knows it,” you ask, noticing her return to the bleachers from your peripheral.

“Cassie. Divorced. Her kid is one of Noah’s closest friends on the team, unfortunately. I think he spends most nights with his dad.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Meredith chuckles at your jab.

A cloud of strong, overly floral perfume invades your nostrils, and you turn to see Cassie, manicured hands planted on her hips and face pinched in irritation.

“Hey, Cass,” Meredith says coolly, not looking in her direction.

“Is this your sister?” Cassie spits. Her voice is shrill, accent almost Valley girl. It would make a lot of sense if she was from Southern California. Meredith, having none of this hostility, whips her head at Cassie.

“It is. You got a problem? Because this is not the time nor the place,” she says, eyes narrowing briefly at Cassie.

“Just wanted her to know that she shouldn’t get too excited about her little escapade with Joel. He does that with every young thing that sits on these bleachers,” she boils, face and neck turning red. Ouch. Joel never seemed the type, but then again, you don’t know him. She could be telling the truth.

“Except you, yeah?” Meredith shoots back, unfazed by Cassie’s low blow. You, on the other hand, don’t miss how your stomach sinks and throat dries up at her words. Cassie’s mouth drops open. She cocks her hips to one side and lifts a finger at both of you.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been there, done that. Nothing to ride home about. Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” she hisses. Meredith stands up, hackles raised and blocking you from Cassie’s view.

“S’at why you were all pissed off he didn’t want you last night? ‘Cause it’s ‘nothing to ride home about’?” Meredith fires, neck rolling. Anger boils in your belly, though you find it best if you don’t speak—Meredith has always been the verbal fighter, you the physical one. It’s not a road you plan on traveling any time soon.

Other parents in the bleachers are observing the confrontation, along with some players in the dugout, little claws gripping the chain link fence and wide eyes glued to the scene. You’re glad you have sunglasses on. You notice Joel turn his attention to you, shoulders drooping at what he sees. Embarrassed, you look down at your feet as Cassie continues her tirade.

“Tell your slutty little sister he’ll find a new spectator to fuck very soon—and I think it’s best if our sons don’t hang out anymore!” she screeches. It’s silent at the ball field—both teams have stopped their warmups to tune into the drama. A pin could drop here, and everyone would hear it.

Meredith hops off the bleachers and gets close to Cassie’s face. She points in her face.

“Slutty? That’s rich, coming from the lady who cheated on her husband with half the single dads at the last State Tournament!” Cassie’s mouth drops open in shock, taking a few steps back from Meredith. Some gasps ring out in the bleachers. Tommy walks over, stepping between the two sparring women and putting his hands up.

“That’s enough!” he booms. Meredith, nostrils flared and fists clenched, points a finger at him.

“Tom, you know damn well what she’s trying to do here. I’m not about to let it happen. She chose to do this in front of everyone to embarrass my sister. Ain’t my problem what comes out.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I get it, Mer. Just didn’t need the kids hearing this stuff.”

Nausea squeezes your stomach and takes hold of your throat. You stand and grab your purse. Meredith turns to you, worried.

“Y’alright?” You shake your head.

“Need t’go sit in my car for a bit,” you reply, voice shaky. You turn and walk to your car, paying no attention to wandering eyes. Joel sees you ambling to the parking lot and sets his bat down, raking a hand through his stubble as he walks toward the dugout and out to the bleachers. He’d heard the entire conversation and knew you were probably hurting from Cassie’s remarks.

“I’ll talk to her, Joel,” Meredith says, stepping in between him and you, though you’re far away by now. He shakes his head.

“She needs to hear it from me. None of that shit is true,” he huffs, frown lines etched into his forehead. He jogs frantically to your car.

Hunched over your steering wheel, a knock at your window interrupts you. You jump and look up to see Joel. He looks worried. Shoulders sagging, you unlock the doors and tilt your head as you wait for him to get in. The door opens and he reaches for your hand. You snap it back involuntarily.

“I just wanna be alone right now, Joel,” you lament.

“Just let me explain, alright? I heard everythin’ she said to you,” he says, voice calm. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you do, you won’t be able to stand firm.

“Look at me, darlin’,” he pleads, voice quiet. You sigh in defeat and turn to look at him. His amber eyes are filled with sadness and frustration.

“None of that shit she said is true. I’ve never slept with anyone that comes to these games, save for you and my ex-wife. Ain’t she ain’t been to a game in many years. Swear,” he says, voice tight, speech rushed.

You look back and forth between his eyes. Why would he lie to you? What could he possibly gain from fucking you—after all, he is a coach, and it might make him look bad to the parents and players. If anything, it was a risk on his part.

“I believe you, Joel. It just hurt,” you finally speak. He reaches for you again, hesitant from your previous rejection. You give him your hand and he kisses the back of it, eyes locked on your face.

“M’sorry. I knew she wasn’t gonna let it go easy. Promise ya, ya got nothin’ to worry about. I—I really like you,” he says, pained. You lean over the center console and kiss him, almost feeling his relief pouring into you.

“I really like you too… old man,” you tease. He roars in laughter.

“Y’gonna pay for that one, darlin’,” he says, half-grinning at you. He kisses you again before pulling back and checking his watch.

“Game’s gonna start soon, I gotta get goin’. I’ll see you later, alright?” You nod, smiling weakly at him. He gives you a quick peck before exiting the passenger side and trotting back to the field.

Noah’s team played an excellent game, which lifted the moods of all the parents and coaches. Cassie’s ex-husband, Byron, showed up and convinced her to leave, which was a relief for everyone. He apologized to you and Meredith for her behavior. Apparently, he already knew about her cheating escapade before they divorced.

Meredith, feeling badly for you, decided to splurge on concession stand snacks and got you a giant Bavarian pretzel and cotton candy, and supplied hot dogs to all the parents. You had fun, too—apprehension quickly turned to relief as parents took turns sympathizing with you and making you feel welcome. This was not Cassie’s first run-in with another woman in the bleachers, you found out—she made this sort of thing a habit.

Noah hit his first home run of the season, eliciting cheers and whoops from the stands. Joel, who had been working with him on his hitting mechanics, gave him a big hug after he returned to the dugout. The team finished 10-3, a great turnaround from yesterday’s loss.

The parents were eager to return to the bar and close it down again. You opted not to, feeling tired and needing a hot bath from the sticky summer night. You and Meredith chatted with Byron for a long time in the parking lot as families filtered out, discussing how to best keep Cassie away from the boys. They had a strong friendship, and neither Meredith nor Byron wanted anything to affect it. Byron shared that Cassie didn’t even have custody of their son—her cheating and drinking during their marriage put a bad taste in Byron’s mouth, and apparently the judge’s—he was awarded full custody.

After saying goodbyes, you were eager to get home, almost forgetting the most important goodbye. You scan the parking lot and see a familiar handsome shape leaning against the bed of his silver truck, eyeing you as you saunter over to him.

“Good game, Coach Miller,” you say slyly, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He grasps it, glancing down with one eyebrow cocked, before pulling you into his chest.

“Lotta motivation coming from the stands tonight,” he croons, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“For you or the boys?” He chuckles.

“Take your pick.” You shake your head and smile, watching the sun drop the last of its shape underneath the horizon. The sky is a beautiful cotton candy color, not unlike the treat Meredith bought for you earlier tonight. You two stand there for a moment, the only sounds being the quiet buzzing of the cicadas and crunch of cars leaving the gravel parking lot.

“Headin’ to the bar?” Joel asks you, holding your chin with his forefinger and thumb. You shake your head.

“Need a hot bath and some relaxation. You?” He smirks, thinking of your naked body undressing and stepping into a bubbly tub.

“Nah. Need the same.” Your lips twitch as you study his face, painted with a little mischief and a little fatigue.

“Want to join me?” you offer, watching a slow grin creep on his face.

“Hmm, need t’think about that one,” he says, eyes flicking over your face.

“What’s there to think about? You, me, naked in a tub. What could possibly go wrong?” You’re flirting now.

“That’s exactly what I’m thinkin’ ‘bout, darlin’, not whether I wanna go,” he says, pulling a goofy laugh from you.

“Meet you over there, then,” you say, turning to leave. He holds onto one of your fingers, preventing you from walking to your car.

“Y’want somethin’ to eat first?” he says, rubbing the skin of your finger.

“Sure. Something on the way?”

“I’m thinkin’ McDonalds. Text me what you want, and I’ll bring it over.”

“It’s a date.”

Not too long thereafter, you and Joel are sitting in your bathtub, backs at opposite ends. He’s tracing shapes on the skin of your knee, asking you every question that pops into his head.

“Shoe size?”

“Eleven. I have big ass feet,” you say, sticking a foot out of the water. He chuckles.

“D’ya want kids someday?”

“Nope. Noah is good enough for me. Never really wanted to be a mom. Would you have another?” He shakes his head.

“I’m too old to be a new father again. S’a lotta work. I had a good run with Sarah,” he says quietly, hand tiptoeing further up your leg.

He stares into your eyes, slicking his wet curls back from his forehead with his free hand.

“Why are you single?” His gaze bores into your face. You avoid it, focusing on mussing up some bubbles floating by your knee. You shrug.

“Haven’t had time, or the energy,” you finally say after a beat. “Haven’t found anyone worth giving either of those things to,” you add, tilting your head and meeting his gaze. He half-smiles at you.

“Yeah, me neither. ‘Til now,” he says, deep voice echoing throughout your bathroom.

“Oh yeah? Cassie, right?” you tease, and he snorts.

“Y’got me there. Alright, last question,” he says, hand stopping at the seam of your thigh. You tighten your muscles a bit, nervous.

“Shoot, Coach,” you say, flicking a bubble at him.

“Can I touch you, baby?” your eyes widen briefly, aligned with the quickening of your pulse. You’ve been wet since he ran the bath water for you and undressed you, fingertips gently tracing your skin as he removed your damp clothing.

“Yes,” you breathe. His finger grazes your mound, the sharp stubble like sandpaper against his skin. He grips your knees and pulls you into his lap. You look down at him, mesmerized by his face and the way he stares at you.

“One more question,” he says, warm, pruny hands traversing your back, warm water trickling from his fingertips to your skin. You thread your fingers through his wet tendrils, leaning your lips close to his, but not touching.

“I’ll allow it,” you whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” You nod, closing the gap between your mouths with ease. His lips are gentle against yours, somewhat chapped from the dry heat of the summer day and salty from sweat. He tastes like salt and mint, which he must’ve snuck into his mouth after you ate earlier.

The kiss deepens, wet sounds of your mouths and the splashing of water now echoing in the bathroom. He’s rock hard against you, cock only a few inches from your needy hole. He pulls back and stares at you.

“Alright, promise this is the last question,” he coos, rubbing his nose against your jaw and then your neck as you tip your head back to give him access. The stubble of his mustache and chin scratch at your skin.

“Fine. Last one,” you agree.

“Can I fuck you?” You nod.

And he does.

Some months and many bubble baths later, Joel wormed his way into your heart. And your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap or two hanging on your mantle, throws his keys in the dish on the kitchen counter when he walks in.

You spend most nights together during the week, either at his cozy home or your apartment.

He calls you his, you call him yours.

He fills your car up with gas when you’re out and about and your fuel light comes on, holds your hand when you walk into a restaurant, tells you how beautiful you are at least a few times a week—and not just when his cock is sheathed inside you.

He kisses you each morning before he leaves for work. Shares his food with you, even when he’s starving. Washes you in the shower and puts lotion on the spots you can’t reach after he dries you off.

Introduces you to his family, and shows you pictures of his late daughter.

Goes to the movies with you and doesn’t complain that you talk during the. Entire. Movie.

Lets you wear his ratty, baggy tees around the house, and even asks you to keep them on sometimes when he makes love to you.

Makes fun of how you use a hammer and that you can’t name the 31 different types of wrenches but corrects you each time with a warm smile.

Plays catch with you before the boys show up for warmups and lets you set up the dugout, though he’ll redo it later on anyway.

And when he finally tells you how much he loves you, you’re not shocked. Warmth ebbs inside you, like it does most days with him. You knew it all along, even if he never had the courage to say it—it was evident with each kiss, touch, and thrust, each bag of food he brought for you, each time he held the door open for you, each time he guided you somewhere with his strong hand on the small of your back.

You oftentimes wonder if he is your soulmate, though you already know the answer.

He makes lemonade with each lemon you give him, without complaint or judgment. And that’s all you can ask for.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut

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