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cherrychilli · 5 days

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18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

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jyoongim · 3 months

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Please the lil ex-hubby fic got my heart melting I'm such a whore for jealous Al 😭

May we please have more jealous!Alastor. Maybe he didn't even know he liked reader THAT way until some sinner genuinely tries to court her and then he's just like "NOWP. Mine now."

This been sitting in my inbox for weeks!!!! I finally got around to it!

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

Alastor had always found you to be good company. He enjoyed having someone who could appreciate proper entertainment. He enjoyed the chats you two had and even let you join him when he went on outings.

He considered you a friend.

So why is his eye twitching as you smiled, clutching a bouquet of flowers from the sinner who had asked you out?

“Oh they are beautiful!” You beamed, pulling the sinner into a hug.

Alastor let out a soft growl, before materializing behind you, flashing the nervous man a sharp smile “Dearest who is this” he asked as his red eyes narrowed at the demon.

”My date for tonight silly. I told you I was going out for a night on the town” you giggled happily as you ushered the man inside.

”why don’t you two chat while i finish getting ready hmm?” You smiled reassuring at the demon before leaving.

Alastor smiled lovingly at you and as soon as you were out of sight, he set his sights on the sinner who was trying to avoid eye contact.

The sinner cleared his throat “I t-thought she was lying when she said she was friends with the Radio Demon”

awww he was trying to make small talk

Alastor eyes narrowed, “oooh so you know WHO I am? Good good then introductions are pointless.” He stood tall, claws gripping his cane. “This ugh date you call taking her out on? Canceled.” The sinner eyes widened “w-what? No…no way! I been planning this for weeks!” He frowned.

Alastor let out a chuckle “maybe you didn’t hear me”. The lobby lights flickered and he transformed slightly, growing in height, antlers curved to the ceiling and eyes as bright radio dials.

The sinner shook in fear as the Overlord leaned down til they were face to face “You will NOT be going out on a date tonight because 1. That pretty creature upstairs is way too good for you and 2. She’s mine. Now…when she comes back down, you’re gonna apologize and say something came up and NEVER contact her again. Or I eat you and I am happy either way…your choice”

He dawned an air of innocence as he let out a fake laugh when he heard you were close enough.

”I’m ready! How do I look?” You beamed, twirling around to show off your outfit. Alastor whistled, grabbing your hand and turning you in a slow spin, grinning “You are stunning my dear.”

You turned towards your date and he looked a bit shaken.

“U-Um s-something came up suddenly and…and im gonna have to cancel.” Your bright smile faded as he rubbed his neck nervously. A pout formed on your lips, as you wrapped your arms around yourself “O-oh…I see”

He looked at you and went to take a step forward but that only caused you to step back and into the Radio Demon’s embrace, seeking comfort.

Alastor pulled you into his chest ‘protectively’, rubbing your back soothingly ”oh it’s alright my dear. Im sure the two of you can reschedule this little date.”

The sinner mumbled his apology and slipped out the door.

You were pouting. You thought that he genuinely liked you. He even planned a whole date to your favorite club! So why…

You felt Alastor lift your chin, your pouty face making him grin.

”Since you’re already dressed how bout we go out on this date?” He asked tilting his head. You blinked at him, a little shocked “Y-You wanna go on a date with me?”

He chuckled, giving you a squeeze as he snapped his fingers and both your clothings changed to a more elegant style.

He raised your hand to his lips, red eyes wrinkling at you “Oh darlin I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity of having a pretty dame on my arm” he laughed as he twirled you around, before looping your arms and waltzing out the door.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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melancholyhigh · 7 months

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SUNRISE.

ft. brother's best friend!leon x reader

synopsis. even though leon's supposed to be having a sleepover with your brother, he can't help but miss you, sneaking behind your brother's back to fulfil his desires.

content. 2.4k words. smut. subby!leon, handjob, fingering, quiet & sneaky sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), come eating, praise kink.

note. i'm finally active and the first thing i do is write for sub leon. old habits die hard.

masterlist. i love reblogs & validation !!

You stare blankly at your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It’s currently 5 AM, and you’ve spent the entire night twisting and turning, trying to succumb to the sweet escape of slumber.

You believe it’s your body betraying you. Your brain understands his presence near you, but not close enough. It yearns for him and his touch, unable to function without it. He’s in the room across from yours, lying on the grimy couch in your brother’s room as he peacefully sleeps.

Your eyes begin to droop, and you allow yourself to give into the sense of vulnerability. Breaths coming out evenly, your chest rising and falling in sync.

All sense of tranquillity disappears at the firm knock on your door. What could your parents possibly want?

You let out a groan in frustration. In all honesty, you’re about to burst into tears. The comforting rest you’ve been anticipating since Monday swept away because you couldn’t handle your feelings correctly, up late at night just thinking about what could’ve been.

The quicker you get it over with, the faster you’ll be able to get some sleep. You highly doubt that, though.

A few minutes pass, and you rip the smothering blanket off you, shuffling to the door. Gripping the cool metal of the doorknob, you stall before turning it.

The door opens to reveal him. Leon. The source of your nighttime dilemmas. His lips curved into a shy smile, and his eyelids drooped with similar exhaustion to yours. Your anger and frustration dissipate when you meet his tired gaze. It’s astonishing how much control he has over your emotions, over you.

“Can I come in?” he asks sheepishly, his voice hoarse from sleep. You stumble to the side, silently allowing him to enter the confines of your room. It’s second nature to him when he falls not so gracefully onto your bed, snuggling your sheets.

Closing the door, you lock it before joining him on your bed. It wasn’t unusual for Leon to find comfort in your twin-sized bed despite barely being able to fit in it with you, his limbs dangling off the ledge. It was odd of him to entertain the idea while your brother was nearby.

He’s the cautious one despite asking you out first. He’s reluctant to face the consequences of your brother finding him intertwined with you in your sheets. You’re not mad at him for keeping your relationship private, but it’s not like you hate the idea of him showing you off or you, him.

You don’t care if your brother finds out. He’d get over it, but your brother’s a bitch when he wants to be. Though you’ve dealt with him for most of your life, it would be nothing new.

So, it confuses you why he’d want to doze off on your bed, risking facing your brother, and your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I couldn’t sleep without you,” Leon mentions, words slurring from his drowsiness. If you were unable to sleep before, now you’re wide awake. He could’ve lied, saying that shitty recliner your brother got on a ‘deal’ was terrible support for his back. But no, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

“I missed you too,” you reply, nose almost touching his as you rest your head on his pillow. Every moment shared between you two, you can’t help but admire him. He’s so pretty, even like this. Blonde hair draped messily onto your pillow, his cheeks rosy, and his half-lidded eyes shine brighter than any of the stars you’ve gazed at.

A grin graces his usual pouty lips. Leaning over, he presses his mouth to yours — it’s less lust and more intimate, reminding you of the first kiss you shared. You had never been more grateful for your dumbass brother getting locked in the theatre’s bathroom stall.

Your mom had forced you to pick up your little brother and his friend from the movie theatre, and you hadn’t anticipated his cute friend, whom you may have liked, sitting in the passenger seat as you both waited begrudgingly for your brother.

You had seen him around, playing fighter games with your brother on his PS1 in the living room. He was your favourite of his friends. Not only was he handsome, but he was also a good influence on your troublesome brother. And you may have developed a teensy crush on him. You didn’t take it seriously because you’re his best friend’s sibling — why would he even consider you an option?

Until that evening when he proved you wrong, your brother was gone for 20 minutes, and you had no other option but to talk to the boy. He was a bit awkward, you were too, but you both began talking and surprisingly hit it off.

After mindless chatter, he confessed, which confused you til no end. He really wanted you? Your silence startled the poor boy, ultimately leading you to return his feelings with a simple kiss to end the night.

But it's different now as you entangle your fingers into his hair, tugging softly, a soft whimper falls from his parted lips — why was everything about him so pretty?

“Don’t be so loud, baby. Do you want him to hear you?” you whispered teasingly against his lips. His warm hands trail under your sleep shirt and grip your hips roughly.

“Fuck off,” he huffs quietly. The walls are thin, incredibly so. You’ve heard the movies Leon and your brother were watching during the night, and you’re sure they’ve heard you listening to music, so it was plausible that he might hear Leon’s moans and whines, but your brother slept like a rock.

And, even though the prospect of people knowing how good you please Leon was hot. The mortification of your brother, let alone your mother catching you, certainly was not.

Taking your hand in his, he guides it to his crotch, his erection straining his plaid pyjama pants. He lets you feel how badly he wants you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and leaving kisses down the column of your throat.

The sun slips into your room through the gap in your curtains, and you ponder how long you’ve been making out to get him so aroused.

“Let me feel you, baby,” Leon breathed into the crook of your neck. Your hand slips into his pants, fingers teasing the head of his sensitive cock, stringy precum sticking to them. Your own arousal pools in your underwear, clinging to your drenched cunt.

Deft fingers encircle his shaft, lazily stroking the base of his dick. Between shared kisses, Leon sneaks his hand into your shorts and underwear, rubbing your needy clit, and a sharp whimper falls from your lips. He tantalizingly glides his fingers through your slicked folds, teasing your sensitive nub with each pass of his digits.

The movements of your hand on his cock become messy and frantic, precum continuing to spill onto the material of his pants with each buck of his hip.

You’re not faring better when he plunges his fingers into your tight hole, thrusting, resulting in your cunt producing slick and embarrassing noises. Your combined gasps and whines fill the room despite being quelled by each other’s lips.

You melt away in each other's arms, forgetting about the conflict that would arise if anyone found you and him in such a predicament.

Drawing away from your swollen lips, Leon stills his fingers in your pussy, pulling them out, and you cease your hand on his dick. He groans at the loss of pleasure from your hands and the slick accumulated on his digits, unaware he made you so wet for him.

“Can I cum inside you, angel?” he whispers breathlessly into your ear. He’s thoroughly lost in pleasure, uncaring if your brother finds him knuckles deep into your cunt. His cheeks are flushed pink, the blush leading to his chest under his black graphic tee. Chest heaving up and down with each breath as he admires your equally fucked out expression.

“Mhm, okay,” you hummed, and Leon shifted his back flat on the mattress, allowing you to straddle him with shaky thighs when you rid yourself of your shorts and underwear. Leon’s palms instinctively went to your waist, gripping the flesh as he stabilised you, your ass sitting flushed to his clad thighs.

His shirt rides up, exposing his v-line dipping into his pants. Gasping softly when the fabric of his pants grazed his sensitive head, your hands eagerly dragged them down, revealing his pretty dick, flushed red to the tip oozing with precum.

Hovering over him, you guide his cock through your glistening folds with your hand's help. You collectively groan when you slide down his cock, taking every inch of him into your tight hole. As you adjust to his size and girth, you lean down, kissing him as he encircles his arms around your waist.

You rock your hips gently, and Leon groans into your parted lips. He trails his lips to your collarbone, biting on the exposed flesh. A sudden moan escapes you when he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. His needy and feverish behaviour reminds you of your first time together.

The squeaky opening of the door opposing your room results in you halting your movement on top of Leon, and he whines in protest. You clasp your hand over his mouth, glaring at him. With the tightening hold of your waist and the muffled moans, Leon is acting careless. He doesn’t give a fuck about your brother right now, too focused on the constricting grasp your velvety walls have on his throbbing cock.

The footsteps pad down the hallway, and you assume your brother is making his way down the stairs.

“Be a good boy f’me, Leon,” you whisper, moving your hand away from his face. You don’t know what overcame him for him to be acting so recklessly. Cupping his blotchy red cheeks, you note how dazed he looks, his blue irises hidden in his dilated pupils.

“Ah, don’t stop fucking me,” he breathed in response, his hips continuing to rut into your warm cunt. The intimacy of it all makes it even more challenging to delay his release, you moving up and down his cock, riding him slowly and passionately in the morning, beams of sun sprinkling into the room, setting the euphoric scene.

It almost makes him forget the absurdity of it. Letting his best friend’s sibling fuck him into an incoherent mess at 6 in the morning, yet he regrets nothing. He can’t help but grip your soft thighs encompassing him as he thrusts half-haphazardly into your hole, dripping down and sticking to his skin.

He spills into you with a soft moan, staining your walls with his cum at the combination of your teasing words and soft lips on his.

“Good boy, Leon. You did so good,” you coo at him, and Leon whimpers at your praises and your tightening cunt around his overstimulated cock.

Slipping his softening dick out your hole, you collapse next to him, chest heaving as his cum trickles out of you, staining your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut, and drowsiness finally takes over your overworked body.

Though, next to you, Leon brews in self-thought. He came after you did all the work, leaving you high and dry. What kind of boyfriend was he?

“You didn’t cum.”

“S’fine, Leon. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you grumbled, blinking your eyes open to glimpse at him. He’s pouting, and despite how endearing you found it when he couldn’t control himself around you, cumming prematurely like some bumbling virgin (he was), Leon still feels like a selfish lover.

“I can still make you cum. Please? You deserve it.” Before you can disagree with him, your brother is awake downstairs, probably looking for him — Leon quickly situates himself between your thighs, eager to satisfy you.

“Y- Yeah, okay, sure,” you stammered, because how could you deny your pretty boy, peering up at you through his long lashes between your thighs?

Spreading your thighs open, hooking them over his shoulders, Leon admires his cum leaking out your hole, stretched out due to his fat cock. You feel bashful as he marvels at your stuffed cunt, moaning in surprise when a glob of his spit falls onto your messy folds mixing with his release.

Hungrily he laps at your cunt, his skilful tongue nudging your overly responsive clit. Leon loves to make you cum with his mouth. He loves to make you feel good, and it’s dirty the way he grinds his once again hardening cock against your sheets, chasing the friction while he messily eats you out, your cunt dripping with arousal mixing with his cum.

You entangle your fingers into his hair, shoving his pretty face further into your cunt, your back arching. Biting your lip, you nearly draw blood, trying to conceal your groans.

He enjoys your pussy like it’s the main course after an appetiser, tasting his salty cum and your contrasting sweet juices as he delves his tongue into your hole. His fingers rub your throbbing clit, and your thighs shake around his head. Leon’s muffled moans and whines reverberate throughout your body, adding heat to the coiling in your tummy.

“Am I doin’ a good job?” he questions, desperate to be good enough for you before he returns to your cunt, dragging his tongue flat against you.

“You’re amazing, baby. ‘M so close.” His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, leaving indents. You roughly pull at his hair as you climax, your body trembling when Leon moans into you.

He continues to sloppily make out with your pussy even after your high. When he pulls away from you, a gloss of your combined cum stains his plush lips. He kisses you softly, allowing you to taste both him and you on his lips.

He helps you into your shorts, pulling his pants up, attempting to look presentable, which is unlikely with the dried cum that stains the fabric of his PJs. He lays in your bed with you, cosying up to you with him in your arms, face in your chest. Caught up in his fantasies, he fails to face reality.

“I think you should leave. My brother might be looking for you,” you mumbled into his hair. Leon huffs in annoyance before untwining with your limbs. He wants to ask since when do you care so much about such trivial things, but he complies. He knows you’re just looking out for him.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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selineram3421 · 2 months

Text

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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j word coded

TO BE CLEAR: I am NOT claiming that this other game (Ikemen Villains) is a "rip-off" of TWST; I'm pointing out parallels between them because I think it's entertaining to see how different games interpret the same or similar fairy tales.

Please also note that although nothing I say in this post is explicit, IkeVil itself is designated as 17+ and contains dark content. If you decide you want to try the game out for yourself, BE AWARE OF THE AGE RATING AND TRIGGER WARNINGS.

ARE THESE NOT JUST J WORD IN A BLACK WIG AND CONTACTS (the last one looks like a blend of Jade's sus face + Idia's sus face) 😭 His face looks so similar… and they're both "attendant" characters that act polite but are more manipulative than they appear at first glance... (although Alfons has Floyd's hedonism rather that Jade's restraint!)

More of my first impressions of the characters of IkeVil below the cut!! Again, there's nothing explicit, I just wanted to keep this post not too bulky.

And not just him (Alfons) either, ashldbiasydefpaei there's a Trey-lookalike and a Silver pre-hair color change in the same game! Roger has a rifle and is cursed by Snow White's huntsman, so I joke that he's Rook and Trey's test tube baby... and Elbert has Vil's keen eye and desire for what is beautiful!

There are also characters that don't look like an TWST ones, but definitely have personalities that remind me of a few! For example, Liam's laid-back affability is Che'nya and Chenya Cater-esque, Jude speaks in a gruff but aristocratic manner like Leona but is a tough businessman like Azul, and Ellis seems like a mix of Malleus's obsession with happy endings + Idia's gloomy demeanor…? No clue if he actually is gloomy or not, he just gives me gloomy vibes.

Victor is Crowley-adjacent! Like they're both overseeing this group of powerful men with magic so you'd think they're serious types--but they aren't. They're silly and use their own skills to do frivolous things like doing magic tricks or making cake fancier. They also both seem to be hiding a secret...

Harrison doesn't remind me of anyone in particular, though I do see little bits of our typical "lying" characters in him. He has the chill of a Che'nya but also Floyd's flippancy and lies as easily as like... I don't know, Cater?? Not sure on this one.

abfhbyoafvadpiadgo OKAY OKAY BUT THE FUNNIEST ONE TO ME IS WILLIAM BECAUSE HE'S "THE QUEEN OF HEARTS" CHARACTER... Most of the time when you have a character with this inspiration, they're controlling and easily angered (*stares at Riddle*), but William is NOTHING like that???? In fact, he's got a strong sense of justice and often encourages others to be honest and to act freely, even if it means disregarding the rules. Every time William opens his mouth... I picture Riddle shrieking and sobbing/j

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wosowritinnnggs11 · 2 months

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SMUT! 18+ MDNI

Ona x Reader ... Alexia x Reader

WARNING: Cheating, lying, lots of unfaithfulness, alcohol consumption, ALL PURELY FICTIONAL!, potentially shitty google translated spanish

Summary: Your relationship with Ona gets messy when you see her team-mate and more importantly your ex for the first time in 2 years. With no closure, pent-up frustration and a night of stolen glances, is your toxic relationship with Barca's captain really all in the past?

Tags: Exes, fingering, semi-public, mirror sex, bathroom sex, Top!Alexia x Bottom!Reader, possessiveness, begging, light degradation

You stared, dazed, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror. Cheeks still flushed, fucked out hair, puffed up lips and lustful eyes that gave it all away. With everything that had just transpired within these bathroom walls, betrayal and infidelity might as well be plastered on your forehead and oh my god if you were to walk out like this-

Fuck! Your legs were on the brink of giving out, knees trembling and doing little to support your current state. You hissed silently under your breath, gnawing at your bottom lip, your eyes closing as you silently rode the aftershocks of intoxicating pleasure that had you clawing at the sink minutes earlier. You stared at yourself again, her lingering touch still tormenting your being.

Ona would know. Everyone would know. This would be the death of you as you knew it... and that cocky little bitch would revel in it. Despite knowing damn well that she caused this, conquering you entirely and shamelessly in a tiny ass public restroom. She'd do more than relish in the idea of how easily your body complied and eagerly answered her touch. In fact. She wouldn't let you hear the end of it.

A smile crept on your lips at the thought and you had half a mind to hit your head against the sink for it.

"Fucking Putellas..." the words nearly a chuckle from your mouth.

You tried your best to compose yourself, letting the water run from the faucet as you focused on the cold sensation trickling down your hands. Just breathe. You could do this. You'd touch up your make up, comb out your hair, fix up this dress and don on your underwe-...Where the fuck...??? You tore yourself away from the sink, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The floor? No. The sink? No. Behind the door? No. The sudden realization sent your searches to a halt, launching at your bag and rummaging through it to find your phone.

Y/N: [ARE U SERIOUS!!??] - sent Do Not Answer- A. Putellas.: [Quien es este?] Y/N: [Alexia- I am not kidding. Bring them back! NOW!!] - sent

The text bubbles appeared, then ... nothing. She was mocking you.

Y/N: [NOW!!] Y/N: [please!] Do Not Answer- A. Putellas.: [Me encanta cuando suplicas ;)]

"No." Turning off your phone, you turned back to confront yourself in the mirror. "Do not go there. Do not give in."

"Act unaffected. That's all you have to do." you demanded, gaze fixated on your now slightly more presentable appearance. And as your subconscious triggered a replay of what had just happened, you bit down on your tongue hard enough to not let out a moan from the mere thought.

*** hours earlier...

The venue was littered with an array of Barcelona girls drowning in red and blue lighting as obnoxiously loud music and decor filtered into all areas of the room. Bodies pressed up against bodies, and even with drink in hand, you were barely drunk enough to find any of this remotely exciting. Entertaining that thought, you took another drawn out sip of your 3rd? 4th? Glass of champagne before tuning back into reality. No, the only thing keeping you sane was her. The way her smile reached to her eyes and the warmth of her giggle as she chatted with her teammates, fingers entwined in your own. You’d be lying if you said she wasn't the only reason you had even come tonight. As Ona's girlfriend of 2 years, she had invited you as her plus one to Barcelona's night out after winning the Champions League. Usually, you would find a way to make yourself conveniently unavailable.

The reason for that awful truth now met your eyes across the room. Alexia. You took your time in dissecting her appearance, having not laid eyes on her for years. At least in person. Her outfit consisted of a soft white silk top, covered by a dark suit jacket and paired with a matching set of black formal pants that accentuated her height, the shirt exposing just enough to highlight her toned figure. One thing about Alexia was that she knew how to dress and clearly tonight was no exception.

Much like you, she was stood beside some other barca girls. You could make out some familiar faces from the years past when your presence was frequent at these kinds of things. Seemingly becoming distracted from the conversation, Alexia's gaze was trained on yours, her cool eyes lingering for a second longer than necessary. They contained a hint of something unrecognizable. She seemed...almost sorry. Guilty? Remorseful? Nostalgic? Whatever it was, your psycho-analyzations got cut short, Alexia offering nothing but a simple head nod of acknowledgement before returning to her conversation. You let your mind drift to a place you hadn’t been or rather let yourself go to in the longest time. Your relationship. Your past. Your relationship of 2 years was a while and whilst you had started dating Ona shortly after her, so much of your situation with the Barcelona captain was...unresolved. All-consuming. Honestly, that was part of the appeal but it became unsustainable. So you went no contact after the split.

Which…was now difficult that Barcelona had won. Not only was this a feat in women's soccer itself but it was also Ona's first big trophy win with her childhood club, so you knew being here and supporting her achievements meant a lot. Champagne in the opposite hand, you slipped your arm around Ona's waist, pulling her in closer as you two made conversation with her fellow defenders. Her skin was soft under your hand and though you shot a smile in her direction, her attentions were fully drawn to her teammates. Even then, you couldn't help but focus on how familiar all of this felt. How weird it was to see all these people again. The same festivities. The same alcohol. Only a new girl to draw you back to the present. Soft skin under your palm rather than a firm hand against yours. A long dress instead of a shirtless jacket. Maybe it was something in your drink that made you reminiscent, drawing your eyes across to her once more.

Her eyes were quicker, already laid upon you and you could feel as your heart raced at the gesture. Alexia's gaze was now somewhat darkened by the blaring lights in the room as she sat on a lounge, legs slightly spread apart and posture relaxed as an... extremely beautiful redhead you did not recognise sat in her lap, leaning against her chest. Shit. Reluctantly, you watched as her eyes drifted away from yours, her mouth coming closer to the redhead's ear, whispering something so abundantly hilarious, it sent the other woman's head flying back with laughter. A shiver ran down your spine at the familiar memory of those lips ghosting over your skin. In an attempt to flush away the sickly feeling in your stomach, you took another sip of champagne, ruminating in the burn as it travelled down your throat.

Jealousy? No. No this wasn't jealousy. It just kind of stinged to watch your ex so close to an attractive woman, that was all. Especially when this shit was happening directly in front of you. In fact, you were glad. Relieved even. This was just her round about way of showing you that she's moved on and, hey, at least it eased the awkward tension in the room. Even then, you watched as her eyes travelled down to where your hand met Ona, biting down on the inside of her cheek until they caught yours again. At that, she quickly dropped her gaze to the floor before taking another drawn-out sip of her drink, quick to replace the empty glass in her hand with another. You tried to return your attention to the people in front of you, brushing it off as a mere slip-up and attempting to ignore the way every nerve in your body was set alight at mere seconds of her observations.

By the end of the first hour, you caught sight of her again, leant up on the wall across the room, arms crossed over her chest and a full glass in hand, this time, with no redhead in sight. Your eyes searched the floor when you saw the other woman now talking to another Barcelona girl, getting awfully cozy. Alexia on the other hand was less than comfortable, evident in her tense shoulders and the way her tongue rested against her cheek. You laughed to yourself, recognising her obviously foul, drunk mood. Fucking classic. The second "la reina" didn't get her way, she acted exactly like a child throwing a fit. That thirst for control quite obviously made her a great captain but on the other hand a shit partner.

You tried your best to suppress the sense of smugness growing inside you , glad you were no longer the one dealing with any of it. Without realizing, you turned your head to Ona, still sat beside you. Nuzzling into the warmth of her neck, you stared up at her dotingly, ultimately relieved you were with someone who actually cared. Catching her attention, the defender turned her head towards you.

"Hey, you feeling okay? Wanna go home early?" her words were barely more than a whisper.

In response, you simply shook your head, not moving from the familiarity of her embrace. A warm grin was all she offered before placing a soft kiss on your forehead and unbeknownst to either of you, sparking a full - fledged war across the room.

As the night carried on, Alexia's lingering looks became longer. More careless, turning almost predatory. Initially you mistook the unfamiliarity in her eyes for anger but as she found you again, gaze steady, darkened and with no sign of shying away, you could not deny how painfully obvious that look was. That look was your entire history. Alexia had always released her frustration on her partners. Never abusively of course but instead through hours of endless domination. Relentlessness. Pushing you to the edge over and over until you broke. Making you beg for release. Doing anything and everything possible to get her back in that position of power. You knew it all too well. Suddenly the urge to hit yourself with a pound of bricks became increasingly apparent as you noticed how wet you were getting, the memories playing back in your mind. What the fuck was wrong with you.

Ona was right beside you. That fact in itself spoke volumes as you tried to think of the last time you had focused on anything other than Alexia this whole night, a burning shame entering your face, gladly concealed by the dim lighting. You and Alexia were long done. No, she had a girlfriend, a partner, someone. Whoever that redhead was to her. This wasn't and this couldn't be directed towards you.

And so you tried. You tried so hard to focus on anything else, digging your nails into the palm of your hands to try calm the thrumming ache growing inside your body. But her presence was fucking magnetic. You could tell the alcohol was getting to her by the way her eyes dragged down your body, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she bit her lower lip softly. They became mixed with something deeper. A need. An almost instinctual desire. And you could tell the alcohol was getting to you by how you kept meeting her looks. And how your body responded to her scrutiny, the ache in your core increasing by the second. You hated how you had to forcibly tear your eyes away. You could tell she was enjoying this, making you flustered. Frustrated. Squirming from mere eye contact. Like a pawn underneath her stupid fucking finger as your thread of honour broke by the second.

You needed to look away and more importantly you needed this to stop. But as your inhibitions became hazier and that feeling... Those eyes on you, waiting patiently.

Don't. Don't. Don't. Please don't. No. Don't.

Against all rationale and self restraint, for a millisecond, you locked eyes over your shoulder. Tilting her head, she simply offered a flash of teeth in response before turning away from you. You could have swore the room actually slowed as she rolled her shoulders and slid the jacket down her spine to reveal her back. You analyzed her tensing muscles. The tattoos that littered her skin. Fuck. Her back her back her back her back her back her back. You could barely form a sentence let alone a thought. If you hadn't been together for so long, she may have been able to feign innocence but you knew. She did this on purpose. Your mind replayed that image, seconds turning into minutes as her muscles tensed and flexed with every small movement of her arm, her soft hair falling so perfectly along her skin. What you'd to do be underneath all of that again. Turning back around, she looked at you over her shoulder with a shit eating grin and a small wink.

No. ha. No, fuck this. You shot up from your seat, excusing yourself to the bathroom as casually as you could muster and basically sprinting to the door. Every last part of you felt like it was on fire. Anger? Guilt? Frustration? Horniness? Beats you. As you looked up, Alexia was already on her feet, practically pacing across the room. Whatever remorse was present in her eyes moments ago had burned. Fuck everyone else in that room, to her? You might as well be cornered prey. Palms on the door handle you slammed open the bathroom, turning to shut it when...

"No." you uttered. Alexia towered over you in the door frame, hands blockading you from exiting as she slowly walked in and shut the door behind you both. Locking it. That same fucking smirk still on her lips.

"Alexia. I am not playing along with whatever game you think this is." You were practically shaking from all the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Calmate. I'm just here to wash my hands." Taken aback by the ease of her voice, you stood away as she leant over the sink, back on full show. You tried to stop yourself but as your gaze scanned over her physique, you felt another rush of heat to your core. You saw as Alexia bit down the smile threatening to rise, catching your eye in the mirror. God, she was so hot infuriating when she got cocky.

"So, Ona huh?" She questioned, still looking down into the sink basin. The sudden mention of your girlfriend's name formed a pit in your stomach which you tried your best to calm.

You scoffed slightly, attempting to mask the sweat forming along your hands. "Like you care. Seemed pretty comfortable with that redhead all up on you."

She looked up at you in the mirror reflection, eyebrow raised in challenge. "You wish you were instead?" Your breath stopped. Why did it feel so wrong to say no.

"I'm joking." She looked back down and you felt your heart drop. Why did it drop? You watched intently as she turned off the tap and shook her hands dry, placing them against the edge of the sink. You watched the way her shoulders flexed, supporting her weight, her stature built to a tee.

"You always have been a social climber though." Her words came out as a slight chuckle, an almost amused expression playing out on her face in the mirror.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean." The forcefulness of your words surprised even you.

"You know, someone who has a reputation for trying to score whoever will get you the most attention."

"I know the definition of the word Alexia. Why are you doing this? What's with the sudden attention to my personal life." You kept looking at her in the mirror in an attempts to force her gaze back to yours but she didn't budge. God, you felt pathetic standing here, just admiring her stupid muscular build.

"Just expected you to be with someone a little less...soft. Can't really see a girl like her spitting in your mouth." The corners of her lips lifted, attempting to set you off in any way possible.

"Shut up."

Noticing your riled up reaction, she pressed harder. "No, no, I get it. You always had a thing for taller girls who... oh wait."

"Alexia-"

Her voice became slightly aggressive, a mocking tone now present in her words. "Sorry, you are actually with her cause she's so sweet right? Is that why your eyes have been on me the whole night instead of her."

You grabbed her arm steadily, turning her against the counter.

"Shut the fuck up." Your words contained a hint of a smile, becoming muffled as you pulled her face down to yours, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. You moved your lips softly against hers, feeling 2 years of tension in your body slowly melt away.

She teared away from you almost immediately, staring at you with furrowed brows. "What the fuck are you doing? I'm with someone." Her words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, caught on how to even respond as you looked at her alarmed gaze. You were a mixture of mortified, confused and shocked at what the fuck you just pulled. More than that, you were still craving another taste of her.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry I-"

A smug grin flashed across her face before she spoke again. "I'm kidding, I just love seeing you flustered."

At that she grabbed a fistful of your hair, causing you to let out a moan against her mouth as she pushed you roughly up against the tiled wall, deepening the kiss. Her strength was nothing if not attractive, her frame towering over you and keeping you cornered as she explored your mouth. Nothing about her was slow or careful. She threw caution to the wind, biting down on your bottom lip before forcing her tongue inside to brush against your own, making you whimper as her hand remained tight in your hair, forcing your neck back. You could taste the remainder of alcohol on her lips and it was intoxicating, her mouth savoring every part of you and leaving you breathless. She tasted so Hot. Sweet. Perfect. You dragged your hands across her broad shoulders before sliding them up to her neck, attempting to reel her in even closer. You felt her smile against your mouth at your desperation, clearly enjoying the way you so easily submitted to her. And you gladly did. You let her hold you like you were hers and hers only. You let her force her hips into yours, pinning you in place as she worked your mouth. You let her hands roam freely along your body, setting your skin on fire as she found your waist and settled against your ass, firmly gripping it in her hands. You tried to get a breath in but every attempt was only met with more intensity from Alexia, sliding her tongue against yours with a hunger that lingered along every inch of your body.

Finally pulling away to catch her breath, Alexia's eyes raced between your own and back to your lips, chest rising and falling. Tightening her grip in your hair, she angled your chin up further, allowing her to gain full access to your neck. Using her other hand to steady herself against the wall, she slowly lowered her head down, breath hot against your skin. Instead of saying anything she placed her lips against your neck, sending a wave of electricity through you as she began mixing the softness of her lips with the harsh marks she left on you, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure. If tonight was any evidence, she was extremely territorial over what was hers, making sure to sink her teeth just enough to leave a bruise, the sharp spike of pain making you softly whimper, your hand still keeping her head steady against you. She moved her hands along your waist, trailing upwards to your ribs and coming back down, soaking in the feeling of you so helpless against her. Her touch was so familiar. The perfect mix of rough and right which left you only wanting more and nothing else. No one else. That thought caused your throat to dry. You swallowed before speaking through labored breaths, Alexias lips unrelenting from your skin.

"We shouldn't be doing this... we can't." The words didn't come out of you easily, everything about her was so...excruciatingly addicting. The way she tasted. The way she knew your body like the back of her hand. The way she looked up at you then.

"Yeah?" She spoke lowly against you. You felt another smile spread across her face as she ran her hands further down your thighs, before dragging her fingertips ever so slowly up the inside of your legs. You were definitely shaking. You felt every breath and inflection on your skin as she spoke again "Tell me to stop." Your head tilted back against the wall, head spinning and lips unable to even move. "Alexia-" is all you managed to breathe out.

"Hm?", she moved up to your jaw this time, her kisses more careless and passionate as she dragged her fingertips up more. Higher. Higher. Higher- You let out a pathetically loud whimper that you could tell she was more than satisfied with, evident in the small laugh she let out. Every slight touch of her fingers left your body annoyingly sensitive, the longing in your cunt only growing. Teasingly, she stopped right before the edge of your underwear, caressing your skin and moving her head to look at you as she waited for your response. "Tell. Me. To. Stop."

"No, Don't..." Your words were more of a sigh than anything else.

She lifted an eyebrow at you, moving her fingertips back down your thigh. You didn't even need her to speak to know what it meant. She wanted you to work for it. Beg to have her fingers inside you.

"Please...fuck...Don't Stop." Your words were breathy but you didn't care anymore. You were practically dripping and you needed her fingers, mouth, fucking anything to feel release.

"Good." She smirked again before guiding her fingers over your underwear that barely kept you decent, feeling as you soaked through the fabric.

"Fuck, you are drenched. This wet over a quick make out?"

"I've been like this the whole night." You met her eyes as you said that, staring up at her shamelessly.

She let out a soft groan at your words before running her hands underneath your underwear, feeling your warmth against her fingers. She looked back up at you, watching as your breathing became shallow, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together, before continuing to focus on her hands. She collected the wetness from your entrance before guiding her fingers back to trace painfully slow circles over your clit, alternating her pattern frequently enough to not give you any proper stimulation. Your breath and desperation only increased.

She leant into you again, biting down against your ear lobe, eliciting another whine. Her voice was low as she spoke. "It's been so long... you might have to remind you how you like to take it." Her fingers began to gradually circle faster around your clit, pressing down with just enough pressure to make your head spin. "Was it like this?" In response you could only move your hips down against her, attempting to increase the friction by any means possible. Noticing your actions, she simply pulled her hand away, causing you to let out a soft cry.

"Or... was it like this?" She rubbed a finger through your slick folds before pushing inside, curling it against your g-spot and slowly sliding back down your walls. The simple gesture of her fingers inside you caused your eyes to roll back in your head as you once again slumped back against the wall in frustration.

"Fuck, Alexia. Just do something." As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you had bit your tongue. Cautiously gazing up at her, her expression was what could only be described as amused though you were almost certain it was not sincere. She shook her head slightly in disbelief before putting on another shit eating grin.

"So brave..." Before you could even think to say anything she unceremoniously spun you back to the sink basin, keeping your back against her chest as her hands steadied you against it. You looked back at her over your shoulder, more confused than anything else.

"What are yo-"

She used her hand to angle your chin forcefully back to the mirror. "Shut up and grip the counter."

You did as you were told. Frankly, you were in no position to argue when you were ready to do just about anything to satisfy the building need inside you. You watched the mirror as Alexia hiked up your dress to your hips, exposing your underwear. Running her hands along your back, she moved the zipper fully down before tugging the hem of it upwards. "Off." She demanded next to your ear. You wasted no time pulling it over your head in one swoop and discarding it to the floor, a pink flush appearing in your cheeks as you remembered your decision earlier that day to not wear a bra for comfort purposes, regretting it more than anything as you watched how Alexia took her time to run her eyes up and down the length of your body in the reflection. When she caught your eye again, her smirk only grew at your flustered appearance, which if anything, only made you more flushed. Slowly she began to drag your underwear down your legs, gaze intent on watching just how wet you had gotten for her. Even the simple graze of her fingers down your legs felt like enough to make you explode. You stepped out of them awkwardly from your compromising position, feeling as the cold air hit you.

Her veined hands wrapped around the base of your neck, thumb acting to angle your head firmly back to the mirror. "Keep your eyes on mine yeah?" Her words were paired by her thumb softly caressing your jaw though her firm grip on your neck reminded you of her true intentions. You looked at your reflection then, namely the way your hair had lost any essence of normality thanks to Alexia's forcefulness, but also at how easily you had let yourself end up in this current position. You were on full display in front of her with nothing left to spare and she hadn't done anything but remove her jacket.

Suddenly, your scrutiny was interrupted by the feeling of her knee prying the back of your legs open as her other arm curved around the front of your stomach gliding further down. Her two fingertips ran against your folds, going lower to toy you with your entrance. Your hands gripped the counter tighter as you struggled to keep your eyes from folding over in pure bliss. You felt as your arousal pooled along her fingers.

"Don't get that shit on me." She met your eyes in the mirror as she warned and you knew better than to question her.

You could barely ruminate in the feeling before she slipped both digits in, causing your mouth to fall agape, eyes fixated on her as you let out a tortured gasp. Despite how ready you were, the lack of preparation you got was enough to make you clench around her. Slowly she pulled her fingers out before pumping into you again, making sure to toy with your g spot as she curled up inside you. She knew exactly how and where you wanted her, continuing to fuck you slowly, as she hit every single angle which made you arch your back into her chest. She moved her hand from your chin to caress the curve of your shoulders and down your chest, taking your left nipple in between her fingers before pinching it, sending a spike of pain through your nerves whilst simultaneously causing a flood of heat to your core. She continued to rub you between her fingers as her other hand moved in and out of you, painstakingly steady. As she curled into you again, you arched off her, which she quickly undid, forcing her arm back to push you back further onto her.

"Alexia-" you whimpered, the movement of her fingers filling you again and again.

"Words." She bit back, gaze darkened.

"God, you feel so good." You didn't even recognise your voice, high-pitched and filled with a desperation that was embarrassingly obvious. You tried to grind down against her in order to quicken the pace, causing her palm to press against your clit with every move and sending your head backwards as you bared your neck.

"I know." Her voice was more breathy than before, though she tried hard to not show it. You could tell that watching you fuck yourself on nothing but her fingers was enough to stroke that massive ego of hers as well as stir a building need to ruin you.

It was when she began to thrust in and out of you with a devastating pace that you felt all semblance of composure slip. Your hands gripped the counter tighter as your knees shook from the sensation, barely holding onto your weight. Noticing your struggle, you watched as her arms flexed in the mirror, supporting your body and keeping you pressed against her. Your eyes opened to find her own in the mirror, glancing at you, half-lidded, gaze burning with lust and control. You watched the way her hair fell across her shoulder, the way her muscles tensed as she worked her hands, the way she smiled at you when you found her eyes again. A strangled, louder moan escaped your lips, the mix of her composure and the pace of her fingers sending you into complete overdrive.

She lent close to your ear, slowing her fingers a bit, forcing you to pay attention to her words.

"Unless you want your little girlfriend to hear how much you love my fingers in you, be fucking quiet." You gave her a soft nod, biting your lip as you met her stare in the mirror. You couldn't help but feel your heart drop at the mention of Ona. This was so wrong. But you couldn't deny how much you wanted this. Needed this. Needed her. Just tonight. So you let yourself drown in the feeling. You let yourself slip through the cracks as she lent back and moved inside you faster. And when she slipped a 3rd finger in, the line between pain and pleasure became so hazy, you could barely keep yourself up.

"Wait...Fuck," You tried to plead.

"Just take it." Her voice was low and demanding, using her spare hand to grip your waist. You bit down on your lip once more, trying to contain your cries. You tried your best to relax around her but against her harsh speed, it barely made a difference. A tear rolled down your cheek, vision clouding from sheer overstimulation but even then, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, exacerbated by her palm pressing harder on your clit, circling with about the same speed. Your mouth dropped open slightly but you managed to bite your tongue, silently taking every last part of her fingers.

She tapped your leg then with her spare hand. "Lift." You tried your best, limbs weak as you moved your knee up to the counter, feeling yourself open up even more. Using this new angle to her advantage, Alexia began moving into you harder, sending your head into a spin.

Just as she did a knock came from outside, the door knob rattling as the door started to shake in its place. Your head snapped to it, breath stilling. A few Spanish voices was all you could make out from the other side, nothing but a distant mumble. But Alexia didn’t stop. Instead, she simply kicked her leg out, slamming the door back into its locked position, her fingers refusing to cease as she spoke back. "Ocupada." The feeling of Alexia's teeth sinking into your shoulder blade sent your head flying back to the mirror as you cried out, the pain sharp, sending heat through your body.

"Watch..." She spoke against your skin, gripping your chin in her hands, this time unwavering as you drew towards your high. "Or I stop."

You were a fucking mess. Splayed out in a borderline pornographic way, your forehead had a slight sheen of sweat, hair sticking to your scalp as your face grew more than a little lewd, pupils blown out, mouth agape and lips still swollen from before. Your moans had reduced to nothing more than incoherent mumbles of yes and fuck, her occasional, low, spanish grunts filling your ears as she watched you break. You held her eyes in the mirror as you rocked your hips against her hand, chasing your high and watching as the smirk plastered on her face only grew as you became more and more wrecked. You would call it cock-drunk but all it took was her stupid fucking hands. You could feel the pressure in your core building with every move and you weren't sure whether you could hold out for much longer. Letting out a soft keen, you dropped most of your weight to her arms.

"I'm so fucking close" you mumbled.

"Yeah? You wanna come?" Her gaze was still steady on yours, magnetic and dominating.

"Mhm."

"Ya sabes qué hacer." The smile in her words more obvious now.

"Please...I-" your words were cut short by a moan as she curled her fingers against your walls. "Fuck. Please let me come." You managed.

"Mmm who gets you this fucking wet?" Her voice was so mocking and you couldn't care less.

The answer was simple. "You."

"¿Quién sabe cómo hacerte sentir tan bien?"

"You."

"Say my name." Her words trailed off into a strangled breath.

"Alexia. Please." You whimpered.

"Again." Her tone was harsher now, her eyes closed in ecstasy as she gripped you further back onto her, listening to the way you keened her name.

"Alexia..." You moaned slightly louder.

"Slut." Her words contained a hint of a chuckle as she grabbed your hair into a ponytail, forcing your neck back.

She pressed down harder and harder, moving at a destructive pace against you. You held her eyes as she curled against your g spot, searing pleasure throughout your heat and sending you over the edge. Hot, white ecstasy coursed through your body, your weight fully dependent on her arms as the throbbing in your cunt quickly turned into oversensitivity, You felt your eyes brim with tears, causing her to slow her hand and pull out of you, wiping her fingers on your thigh.

She barely gave you a second to come down from your high, spinning you around forcefully to face her. She looked deeply into your eyes, angling your head up as she moved closer to you. Wanting nothing more than to taste her soft lips after her brutality, your eyes fluttered closed. You waited desperately. When the lack of anything on your mouth became more apparent, you opened your eyes to find her still staring down at you, inches away, smirking as she ran her fingers on your jaw. Without another word Alexia turned on her heels and exited the bathroom door, leaving you here. Alone. And completely undone.

#woso community #woso fanfics #barcelona women #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso smut #woso #woso fic

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rissouu · 5 months

Note

Onys the type to not gaf about ur little shows but ones you flick them on hes all quite and now paying attention to what’s on the screen. And then he starts talking about the character on the screen like calling Natalie a bitch for fighting Scotty (on Baddies West) and now u gotta tell him all the drama between the girls bc he joined in late on the show

LITERALLY I AGREE HOLD ON HOLD ON.

“i know you fuckin’ lying, her long chin ass need to be stopped!” he yelled at the tv, startling you because you didn’t even think he was paying attention. “why the fuck she beating on her friend mama? am i missing sumn’?”

ony was never one to pay attention to the type of shows you put on, but this one had him entertained. “she think cause she run the show she somebody, but she a whole ass bitch forreal.” he mumbled, now he understood why you always got so worked up by this show.

“pa i thought you hated the shit i put on, hmm?” you would definitely be making fun of him later, but right now you needed someone to talk shit with. and who better than your man? “but anyways, let’s talk about this shit!”

#anon boo <33 #LOLL THIS WAS VERY RUSHED #but i feel like he would be so confused and annoyed #malora speaks!#yes this is black/chubby reader but anyone can read #onyankopon x chubby reader #onyankopon x black y/n #plug!ony #onyankopon fluff #ony fluff #poc!reader #aot fluff #aot x black reader #chubby reader

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lovings4turn · 2 months

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becca, my love. i saw that your blurb requests are open, so can i request oscar with "taking off their makeup when they're too tired"? thank you!

ᯓ★ 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 — 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

ahhh nora lovely thank you sm for sending this in !!! adore writing for oscar so thank you for giving me the opportunity to 🤭🤭 this ended up being longer than i expected but what can i say i got carried away !!! hope you like this lovely

indistinct dialogue washes over you as your ears tune in to the sound of oscar’s heartbeat, the sound much more preferable to the drama of the characters currently on the screen in front of you.

curled against your boyfriend’s chest, the glow of the television washing over you both and bathing you in a fuzzy, low light, you find it hard to keep your eyes open for longer than a minute at a time.

oscar is just so warm, the fabric of his hoodie against your skin so soft, and you had woken up disgustingly early that morning for an eight am class that preceded a long study session at the library. so, it’s no surprise that your exhaustion is quickly catching up to you, a lion stalking its prey.

since his gaze has been resting on you rather than the random sit-com for the past ten minutes, oscar is quick to notice the drowsiness consuming your features.

“let’s get you to bed, eh?” oscar asks, patting your side twice with the tips of his fingers to prompt you to stand.

“i’m not even that tired,” you protest, words coming out in a low whine thanks to your desperation to remain in the warm embrace of oscar’s arms.

“tell that to your eyes, sweetheart. they’re practically closed.”

almost on cue, you lift your hand to rub at your tired eyes before you stop abruptly, loose fist hovering just in front of your face. a frustrated noise escapes you, and your head falls back against oscar’s chest at the realisation.

“i still have to take my makeup off.”

oscar fixes you with a look of amused pity. though he’s clearly sympathetic to your plight, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your theatrics somewhat entertaining.

strong arms wrap around your waist, and oscar gently helps you to your feet, sending you off to bed with the promise that he’ll be right behind you.

curiosity picks at your mind, but you’re far too tired to argue or ask questions. your body operates on autopilot as it leads you down the hall to your bedroom, and you flop down onto the soft mattress without hesitation.

never had you been more thankful at oscar’s insistence that you wear his clothes as much as possible: already dressed in one of his old t-shirts and some pyjama shorts, getting changed into something cosier was not a problem you would have to tackle tonight.

oscar appears a few minutes later, and it seems that he’s brought the entirety of your skincare shelf with him. countless bottles and tubs are piled up in his arms, threatening to spill over as he fumbles towards the bed.

with furrowed brows, oscar drops the bundle of products onto your comforter and lets out a breath, beginning to survey the many different items sitting in front of him. “right then, let’s see,” he mumbles, picking up one product at a time and scanning the labels with such an intensity that, had you the energy, you would have teased him for.

“moisturiser, no. facial scrub, no. hyaluronic aci- what even is this stuff?”

you can’t help it. a laugh bubbles up in your throat, and though your eyes are heavy with sleep, oscar can see the way that the crinkle slightly at the intensity of your smile.

as fun as it is to listen to oscar grow increasingly confused with each skincare product he scrutinises, you decide it’s best to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “purple bottle, babe. might wanna grab some cotton pads, too. next to where you grabbed everything else from.”

oscar follows your instructions instantly, setting your makeup remover off to the side before he scoops the other products up into his arms once more, heading to return them to their rightful home in your bathroom. he soon returns triumphant, holding up the packet of cotton pads in his left hand as though it’s one of his racing trophies.

idiot, you think fondly.

soon, he’s sitting beside you, tilting your face upwards towards him with two fingers. the movement is tender, and you can’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

with a level of care you imagine someone would reserve for a newborn, oscar begins to swipe away at your makeup, putting a lot of effort into not tugging at your skin.

every so often, he speaks, questions of “feel alright?” and “not hurting you, am i?” filling the otherwise peaceful silence.

each time your answer is the same: a slight shake of the head with a reassuring hum. you’re convinced that oscar could never be anything but tender with you, and this only adds to your hypothesis.

a few seconds pass, and you can no longer feel oscar wiping at your face. your eyes flutter open, greeted by the sight of oscar admiring you with an adoring expression.

a light flush dusts the top of his cheekbones, and his lips are pulled up into a foolish, love-sick grin. he doesn’t shy away when he realises he’s been caught, only moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “now,” he starts, voice playful. “wanna tell me what the next step is, babe?”

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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luveline · 1 year

Note

if you’re taking joel requests here’s one :3

touch-starved!joel who isn’t aware he’s touch starved but then extremely affectionate reader comes along and just always! touches! him! loving & intentional touches, casual touches—all of it drives him wild and he loves it!!

thank you!! I hope this is okay! Touch-starved Joel who wants you but doesn't know how to want you w/ mutual pining ♥︎ fem!reader 2k

Joel wishes you wouldn't work the same shifts as him. Wishes you didn't have to work any shifts at all, wishes you didn't know this life, but you do. He wishes you wouldn't pick all the high-paying, devastating jobs that he does, wishes you didn't insist on keeping him company. And above all, he wishes you wouldn't touch him, because he can't handle the way that he feels when you do.

Sharing shifts turns to seeing one another outside of the old meat market by accident. In turn, that becomes purposeful. Before he really knows it, you're comfortable enough to come by his apartment and you'll wait there even when he isn't home just to see him. Precious hours of your life spent curled in on yourself at his door.

Joel nudges your sleeping body with his shoe and then feels like the world's biggest asshole. He sighs, kneeling down despite his aching back, and shakes your shoulder. He notices how soft your jaw looks when you sleep and has to look away, lest he think about it too much now, and remember it later. You have this habit of chasing him into bed when you're not there.

Your hand wakes before your eyes do, and you curl your fingers around his wrist, half on his sleeve and half on his skin. Where you connect hums with heat.

"Why are you out here?" He changes his prerogative, feeling as though chastisement is more important. "You have no sense of danger, even now. Get up."

He doesn't speak without fondness. You'd have to look hard to find it, but it's undoubtedly there.

His tone has you awake and alert quickly, your gaze on his face. "I do," you say croakily, letting him pull you into a standing position.

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"I can't call first… You look tired."

"I am. I'm not staying up." He pulls his wrist from your lingering grasp. "Should've called."

"You act like you don't like me," you say without inflection, following him in through the door and closing it softly behind you.

He drops his jacket over the back of the couch and scrubs his face with both hands. His back aches from standing and heaving all day, his arms tight with a cramping tension.

If he were younger he'd turn around and wrap you up in his arms. He'd tell you what he really thinks of you, your head hooked in the crook of his arm, his free hand roaming lazily over your back. His pinky finger would run along the line of your jeans playfully, and maybe you'd laugh. You don't laugh as much as you should.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

"No, Joel."

You'd lie even if you were.

He moves into the kitchen, makes himself a small glass of water, and leans against the counter. He tries not to drink it like a total pig knowing you're watching, but he's dehydrated and cotton-mouthed.

The window paints you in a weak light, like iced tea. You pick over his things and arrange yourself on the couch like a tired house cat, pulling your legs up and rubbing your cheek against the backrest. Shoulders to the arm, you're almost lying down. He could superimpose you into his sheets, imagining how you might look in bed, not naked or waiting or anything so salacious, just how you’d look getting ready to sleep. He wonders if you wear pyjamas, figures you likely sleep dressed as you are now in your shirt and jeans. Maybe you swap denim for sweatpants, maybe you don’t. Maybe you peel your shirt off, maybe your bra. He entertains a life where he gets to see it and finds it painful as wrapping his hand around a hot poker, because that life is alarmingly close to this one, if he were to take one small leap.

“Where were you today?” he asks.

He sees a flicker of humour flit across your face. He knows it as one of your tells — you'd thought about bending the truth.

"You don’t have to worry, I’m just… rundown. Felt sicker than usual, so I stayed home."

It's automatic for him to give you a once over as he would with anybody who feels under the weather. You haven't been unlike yourself, you aren't sweating or irritable. You're fine. You’re more than fine.

You have a strange inability to look after yourself. He believes in positive (and negative) reinforcement.

"Good girl," he says.

You smile at your hands, picking at nails he knows are scrubbed raw and clean as he crosses the room to sit with you on the couch. You're quick to push your legs over his lap, your jeans riding up until the rarely-seen skin of your ankles peak out.

"I had an incredible headache," you continue. "And I felt like the blood was rushing in my ears when I stood up but I wasn’t dizzy.”

You touch him and it's like all his agitation starts to numb itself. The weight of your legs has him forgetting his aching back and his sore arms. He stares at his closed fist by your foot, willing himself to touch you; all he wants to do is grab your leg, feel the dough and softness of it under his palm. You sit up a touch to brush a longer piece of hair sticking out behind his neck.

He pretends you aren't moving at all.

"Do you feel better now?" he asks.

Your knuckle brushes under his jaw. He feels the short hairs of his beard catching.

"I feel fine," you say. "How are you feeling?"

He turns to face you head on. He’s not going to answer your question. You already know he won’t, but you've asked anyway. He isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You really do look tired,” you say softly, concern knitting your brows together. He thinks it’s your most devastating look yet. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Joel, I’ll go home. You can get some real rest.”

He almost says Hey, I don’t want you to leave yet, and you’re already standing up. You look more sorry than you should, believing that you're a burden on him when you aren’t — you're a lightness. You drain the levy, and he can’t see himself getting any rest at all if you leave.

You’re saving him the awkwardness, climbing off of his couch and out of his lap to track down your shoes. “And, you know, you could shower,” you say, trying to infuse some life back into the room, “I know the cold water bites but we all gotta do it.”

He stands up too fast and feels an absence of noise. No blood rushing in his ears, no beating heart. He’s too tired, in every sense of the word, to ask for what he wants. He can’t ask you to stay.

You lean down to hook your finger into the back of your sneaker and stop at his expression. You stand a little taller. Whatever vulnerability he sees in you now, your short black socks against the floor, your sweet-eyed, tentative smile, he suspects he’d find it doubled in the mirror.

“Joel, I…”

He can’t ask you.

But that doesn't mean you can't ask him.

"Do you think I could stay, after all? To sleep. Just to sleep," you say. Your voice is quiet, like you're trying to spare yourself some dignity if you need to take it back.

He thinks about it. You, in his bed. You, sleeping as you had been in his hallway, your lashes skimming the delicate skin under your eyes, your neck craned in. You, with your hands under your cheek, your sluggish breathing, your heart capering only a handful of inches from his.

A beat. "You kick in your sleep?" he asks, cotton-mouth returned.

"No," you say. You laugh through it, making the word so thick it's almost sticky. Honey in sound.

It solidifies what he's said yes to. He doesn't know how to sleep next to you. He barely knows how to talk to you, and doesn't try as he leads you into his bedroom. Thankfully, you spare him. He knows you aren't the most confident person on the planet, and that each bold move you make is for his benefit. He tries to be unflinching in return, kicking out of his shoes and throwing back the blankets to lie flat on the sheets. You settle in next to him with little ceremony.

You keep your legs hiked up at first, your heels digging into the mattress near his knees. You turn your face to his, and he turns his face to yours. He can see your every wrinkle and line this close. You must be seeing his.

"You got lucky with the neighbour lottery, huh?" you say, not quite whispering. "It's silent."

He doesn't want you to stop talking, but he can't help himself. "Almost," he says wryly.

You know him well enough to smile. "I guess you don't need the quiet," —you turn carefully onto your side, letting the weight of your knees rest on his thigh— "'cause you work all day every day."

The opposite. The shit he sees on shift is enough to give anybody insomnia.

"I'm the bad neighbour."

"Oh, right, your radio." The back of your hand touches his arm. The slightest of touches but enough to make him realise how much he wants it. He can't remember the last time somebody touched him who wasn't you, not for years now. It's an amicable casualness he can't explain away. He wants it worse than a hydro.

"I might, uh, might cling a little, in my sleep. You can push me away, swears. Even if you gotta really fight me on it." You close your eyes, burrowing your face into one of his flat pillows. Your knuckles jump up his arm as you get comfortable. "Jus' shove me."

He closes his eyes. The dark of his eyelids is usually a torment, but with you this close it lulls him quickly and without finesse. "I'm not gonna shove you," he says while he still can.

He's on the precipice of sleep when your hand slides up his bicep. You feel along the soft ridging of his muscles until your fingers slot between his arm and his chest, and your nose is kissing his shoulder. It's as if the moonlight has heat and it's bearing down on him through the dirty windows as every stressed ligament, every tensed tissue in his sore body finally gives in to rest.

When he wakes, he's missed his morning shift start. You're clinging to him like you said you would, harder than he'd think possible considering your unconsciousness, with your lips pressed to his shoulder. He thinks it might leave a bruise.

He dips his face toward yours until the tip of his nose nudges your forehead and goes back to sleep.

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