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bluetimeombre · 5 months

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──•~❉᯽❉ Third times the charm

Tom and you met over zoom whilst auditioning for your roles in the ballad of songbirds and snakes. Instant attraction and the chemistry was off the charts, everyone could see it, even you two fools. In every interview you did, as co-stars, as best friends and finally, as a couple…

(from me: hi, sorry, I’m dying for Tom Blyth content so I made so myself. I can't bring myself to write y'/n so i'm just going with 'you.' But I wrote it so you're british, oops. This is also to make up for choosing timmy in the 'call it what you want to' series, for the tom girlies, enjoy!)

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

' How well do the stars of Ballad of songbirds and snakes know each other? - Vanity Fair. '

Tom, you and Josh sat together in the Vanity Fair studio. While Tom kept his cards close to his chest (literally), you and Josh waited anxiously. You were sure you would win though, even Josh was sure you would win. Tom and you had spent almost every day together all year. People in the studio- who had only caught a ten minute glimpse of your friendship- knew your souls were made together.

'First question,' said Tom, pulling the cards back further. 'What is my biggest fear?'

Josh slapped his knee in frustration and you slumped in your chair, laughing to yourself. You must know, surely. 'Mine is gonna be, probably, a little bit more shallow,' said Josh before you could even make a guess.

You rose your brows focusing on a specific point on the floor. 'Shallow?'

Tom rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His lips were tilted in a fond smile at her concentration. 'You ok?' he laughed, 'you know this- you've got this.'

'No, I do know this, you've told me,' you say.

'You've told her?' gasped Josh.

'I've probably told you!' said Tom. He seemed completely absent minded over the fact he was still holding onto your shoulder, massaging it gently.

'Ok, I think it's- ironically- snakes. That's my guess.' Finally, you breath and cross your legs over.

'Interesting. Josh?' he asked, taking his hand from you. (Maybe eagle eyed fans would see the way his hand flexed at his side, just under the chair. And maybe twitter would blow up with the Mr Dracy like move.)

'I was gonna say mountain lions.'

You and Tom laughed. 'That's more shallow?'

'In what way is that more Shallow?' Tom laughed.

Josh gesture wildly to you. 'I thought you were gonna say something more conceptual.'

'Oh sorry,' you apologise.

Josh leant back on his chair. 'Yea, you should be.'

Tom finished writing on the card. 'So, it was my childhood fear, which I've obviously gotten over but it was-' he turned the card, revealing his scribble. 'Snakes.'

'Yes!' you cheered. 'I knew it!'

'I think it's because I used to watch a lot of Indiana Jones as a kid and because he was afraid of snakes, I think it transferred on to me,' he explained.

'Makes sense,' you shrugged.

'Cool people are afraid of snakes,' Tom agreed.

'And mountain lions,' added Josh, causing your cheeks to heat up with laughter. There was probably nobody who could be so nonchalant in how he makes you laugh.

'Point to you!' cheered Tom, holding up his hand. Quickly you high-fived him and held his hand for a flickering moment before moving on.

'What is my go-to karaoke song?'

You were safe to say, gob-smacked. You swivel in your seat, eyes wide. 'You have a go-to karaoke song?'

He stares at you, just as shocked at your surprise. 'We all do.'

'We do?' you asked. 'Then what the hell is Josh's?' you turn to him, curious.

'9 to 5, Dolly Parton,' he said, seriously. But even that got you cracking up.

'I expect one of you to know this,' said Tom, scribbling his song choice.

'Oh, no pressure then,' you said.

'We went to karaoke all the time.'

'Yes but I don't remember all the song,' you fold your arms over your chest, chewing down on your lips.

'Oh no,' Josh hunched over and you pat his back, mumbling to yourself. 'I feel like- I wanna say it was some punk-rock thing.'

'Do you want a clue?' Tom offered.

'Yes!' Josh.

'No!' You.

'Ok, not then,' said Tom, deciding.

'Wait, no, that's not fair,' Josh complained, 'I want a clue.'

Tom shrugged, holding out his arms. 'Boss said.'

'Yea I don't know why I said that,' you laugh, still thinking. You remember him singing to you, in your trailers or hanging out on set. He or you would strum a guitar and sing together. But karaoke?

'Mambo number 5,' Josh announced.

'Mambo number 5,' Tom checked.

Your brows scrunched up. 'That's punk rock?'

Josh looked at you, then remembered what he was saying. 'No, i'm gonna change mine to all the small things.'

'Ok, your guess?' asked Tom, nudging you.

'Oh I don't know,' you shrug, 'Sexy back, Justin Timberlake.'

'Close!'

'I was close?' you gasp, jumping up in your seat.

'It was,' he shows the card. 'Senorita, Justin Timberlake.'

You and Josh laughed together.

'I don't think I ever heard you sing that!' Josh argued.

'We definitely did, definitely.'

Josh shook his head, body shaking with laughter. 'I don't think I even know the words to the song.'

Tom shifted in his seat, changing cards. 'That's the point of Karaoke, they're up on the screen'

You turn to him, face screwed up and holding onto his knee. 'That's not the point of karaoke babe,' you said solemnly. It was a joke between the cast, how often you called people babe. As a brit. Sometimes you even said it in a Gemma Collins way.

'Anyway, half a point to you!'

You fist pump the air while Josh complains loudly. Whilst bickering, Tom moved on and had to repeat the question.

'What is my favourite mode of New York transportation?' he asked.

You chuckled to yourself, rubbing your head. 'That is the funniest question ever.'

Tom scoffed, his lips curling up. 'How is that a funny question?'

'I've just never known transportation to come up in one of our conversations. Imagine meeting someone and being like 'hey, guess what? my favourite mode of transport is...''

Josh laughed at the hurt look on Tom's face and your own sarcasm.

'Oh yea, what is it then?'

'Your motorcycle,' you said obviously.

'Well, you knew it didn't you,' he pointed out. The two of you bickering like a married couple. Even the crew behind the scene were blushing at you two and laughing.

'I didn't get to guess!' erupted Josh.

Tom and you laughed, holding onto each other and apologising to him.

Josh leant back in his chair, throwing his leg over his knee. 'Ok so motorcycle but i'm gonna go the extra mile and say- I think it's a Honda.'

Tom calmed down, wiping tears of laughter before showing the camera his answer. 'It is motorcyle but Josh is wrong, it's not a Honda so the point goes to you.'

You pat yourself on the back while Josh looks into the camera.

'This is what happens when you give 110%. Is this the example we want to set?'

Tom rests his hand on your back, un-consciously rubbing it. 'Ok so, point to you and Josh gets ... three quarters of a point.'

You nod your head. '75%. Have you got any points?'

Josh glared at you. He then noticed Tom's hand resting on your back. 'Why are you comforting her? i'm the loser.'

You clicked your tongue, pushing him. It was lucky you didn't notice how Tom blushed, turning back to his cards and made a mental note to keep his hands to himself.

The three of you continued down the questions:

'If I weren't an actor, what profession would I be?' Tom

'What are you? writing down a novel there?' You

'You'd definitely work with mountain lions.' Josh

'For some reason I want to say Fire man but that's not it.' You

'What is my coffee order?' Tom

'Oh, I know this, it's the same as mine. Josh, you know this?' You

'Of course not.' Josh

'What is my biggest pet peeve?' Tom

'So many things come to mind.' You

'Am I a grumpy old man to you?' Tom

'Tom has always been so relaxed and easy going, go ahead and put a point down for me.' Josh

For the next question, Tom looked pointedly at you. 'I really hope you get this. What is my hidden talent?'

Josh looked seriously at Tom, only suddenly playing the game. 'I think I know what mine is.'

'I think you should both get this,' he said, writing down the answer.

'Whistling,' you guessed simply.

Tom quipped his lips at you, head moving slightly.

'Well, I was also gonna say whistling,' Josh smirked.

Tom laughed. 'You're so full of shit.'

'I said it first, you're good at whistling. You can whistle like a disney bird,' you said, trying to win more points in flattery.

'Thank you.'

You looked into the camera. 'Tom's actually going to be playing a bird in the new Snow White movie with Rachel Zegler.'

The boys laughed.

Tom nodded, turning around the card. 'The answer is whistling.'

Josh and you shake hands and Tom started to show of his whistling skills, the familiar tune of the hunger games and holding up three fingers.

'I was- that made me nervous,' said Tom shakily.

'Yea, you were shaking,' you said.

Tom reached out for your arm, before remembering before and pulling back. 'I know, did you see my lip quivering.'

'I was nervous for you.'

'Yea, yea, yea,' agreed Tom.

Josh pretended to get out of his seat. 'I should go, i'll leave you guys to it.'

You pulled him back down while Tom moved on, asking the couple final questions. It ended with you earing 6 points, while Josh was at a lousy 2.75. But then, it was yours and Josh's turn to 'flip the script' on Tom. If he got them wrong, you guys got the points so you'd made sure to chose difficult questions.

You just hadn't expected Tom to know everything.

'Tom.'

'Yes,' he stared intently, ready for anything.

'What is my dogs name?' you smirked, thinking he wouldn't remember. Since you were on set and then traveling for press your dog was staying with your family and Tom had only met him once or twice.

'Easy. Padfoot.'

Your brows dropped and you turned away, pressing your lips into a tight line.

Tom nudged you. 'Did you think I wouldn't get it?' he asked and his jaw-dropped when you nodded. 'Of course i'd get it, I love your boy.'

'What the hell is a Padfoot?' asked Josh.

'It doesn't matter,' you waved of, trying to distract yourself from blushing. You really didn't think Tom would get it, would care enough to remember.

'It's a Harry Potter thing,' explained Tom. He stretched out his arm so it held onto the back of your chair. Not touching, right.

Josh asked his question. Tom got it right again and you were looking down at your card, wondering if it was hard enough for him.

Tom watched you set the cards down, tuck your chin into your chest and put your hands behind your chair. 'Oh no,' he chuckled.

'There is a piece of jewellery that I always wear. Now obviously i couldn't wear it whilst filming, but I had it kept in my trailer. And after we wrapped it went straight back on. The question is what piece of jewellery is it?'

Josh was laughing and trying to guess himself while Tom panicked. Every day for a year he had been around you. He'd had lunch with you, hung out in your trailer, you'd nap together and laugh together. He's seen you swimming in nothing but a lovely swim suit. He'd held your hands and you guys had even worn each others rings. How could he not know? He was beating himself up about it, all the while you smirked at him. Tom could almost excuse the fact of being a shitty friend to see how giddy it got you.

He tried to peek behind the chair but you shifted. 'Ok I don't think it's a ring because you change up your rings a lot.'

'Ok,' you hum.

Tom pulled at his lip. You weren't hiding your ears so it couldn't be an earing. That's when he remembered. Tom clicked his fingers. 'It's your locket! and it's gold!'

You sit up straight. 'How?!' Tom immediately looked to your neck- or maybe it was closer to your chest- where your locket dangled just under your shirt 'Well, I think we know who knows each other the best!'

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Some months later, about eight, you and Tom were back at a quiz. The two of you were starring in different things. Tom's series which he stared in, 'Billy the kid' was having it's third and final debut while you staring in a adaptation of 'Malibu Rising' by Taylor Jenkins Reid for Apple Tv.

' The BFF test! ' - Glamour.

'How do you think we're gonna do?' asked Tom.

'That's not even a question Tom, we're gonna do great!' you threw a thumbs up at the camera and Tom copied you with a grin.

'Let's do this shit!' he yelled.

The crew behind the camera gasped and laughed while you hunched over, chuckling. He realised his mistake, how he wasn't supposed to swear and put his hand over his mouth.

'I am so sorry,' he apologised. Only when you caught your breath did you stand up and hold onto him. His arm wrapped around you back, holding you too.

Eventually, once you two had regained yourselves, you were asked how well you think you know each other.

'Pretty well,' you said.

'Very well,' Tom corrected.

'Very well it is, very well it is,' you said.

The crew behind the camera asked when you first met.

'Over zoom,' you said.

Tom nodded. 'it was a chemistry read for hunger games. Coriolanus and Lucy-Grey. You sang an acoustic version of Silver springs and I watched.'

'And the rest is history. Inseparable ever since,' you smile, swaying side to side while Tom watched with a fond smile. 'But seriously, it was a very lovely moment and since then, i've had a best friend in Tom.'

'Aw,' he said, throwing an arm around your shoulder and drawing you in. 'I love this girl,' he told the camera.

Eventually, once the two of you were finished with the introductions they had you stand opposite each other with a small notebook and pen. Your task: to write a compliment about each other.

Tom was already writing down his, page being filled up quickly. 'How much time you got?'

'Done,' you said, closing your notebook.

Tom looked up. 'What?'

'I'm kidding,' you assured him at his shocked and maybe slightly hurt face. 'How are you writing so much?'

'I have a lot to say about you.'

'Sappy.'

'Shut it, you love it.' Tom was focused on writing down, getting all his thoughts and a thousand unsaid words on page. He couldn't tell how you watched him with a smile and a shimmering glimmer in your eyes, but fans could, and they'd deem it the look of love.

After a moment longer of writing, you finished, looking at him. 'Ready?'

Tom finished his sentence and nodded. 'Ready.'

'Ok you go first,' you say.

'No, you go first,' he insists, the two bickering over each other. 'Ladies first.'

'Age before beauty,' you say.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully but held up his notebook. 'This is- this is nerve racking, woah,' he says, laughing.

'No, I know. I'll turn around if that helps,' you go to turn.

Tom grabs your arm. 'No, don't-' he cleared his throat, let you go and started to read. 'You are incredibly talented, that's the first one. Your acting, your voice, it's unbelievable and every time I watch you at your work, i'm in awe. As well as that, you are so dedicated to your craft, whether it's flying back and forth for your movies or not giving up until you've nailed a scene, you just- you give 110% every time and it's inspiring to watch. Not only do you make me want to be a better actor, but a better man-'

He read from his notebook, flicking through the pages as you watched, mouth covered and tears welling up in your eyes.

'You're insanely intelligent, you have such a unique style that is so you. You give confidence to others and always bring the best out in them. You're witty, you're hilarious, absolutely hilarious, I don't laugh with anyone the way I laugh with you. And you are just the most beautiful girl in the world.' Only when he had finished did he look up and see you wiping your eyes.

'Christ,' you mutter, turning away as the crew laughed.

Tom wrapped you in a bear hug, laughing and rocking you back and forth. 'You're not suppose to cry.'

'How can I not?!' you mumble into his chest. 'Ok.' you took a deep breath, calming yourself before standing back from him and looking down at your own notes. 'Well mine just seem so rubbish now,' you joke toward the camera.

'Tom. You're a talented actor. One of the most talented i've ever met, or ever seen. Watching you on the hunger games, I mean, I was speechless half the time. You're the kindest and sweetest man I know. It's no secret i've always said, men, they suck but you, you changed that. You, single-handily restored my faith in men,' you say, creating a laugh through the studio and him. 'Er, i've just listed compliments, funny, caring, talented, gorgeous, beautiful, so-so hot- I mean, the list goes on but it's not gonna be anything like you gave me.'

'It's perfect, thank you.'

You gesture to him, looking in the camera. 'He's a gentleman.'

Your next task was harder, looking into each other eyes for one minute.

'Is this gonna be like, a staring contest,' you wonder out loud as the two of you already keep your eyes on each other.

'I hope not, my eyes sting already,' says Tom. For a moment, the two of you are just there staring at each other. Your hands behind your back, his at his side as small smiles play at your lips.

'Your eyes are so blue, christ, i've never just stared at them like this before,' you compliment. 'Add that to my list.'

'Are you crying? You look like you're going to cry again?' asked Tom, peering closer at you.

'That's just me, i'm always in a state of verge of tears.'

He laughs, but keeps his eyes open and on you. After a minute, you two finally looked away, rubbing at your eyes. 'I think we were having a staring contest then,' he said.

'Yea, yea, yea, my eyes hurt.'

There was a couple extra challenges, trying to say the same word at the same time (you guys failed every time except last where you both said 'hunger games') and to mirror each others move. The last one, is a trust fall.

'Send it!' Tom pretended to fall back immediately as you lunged to catch. He didn't fall but laughed at your readiness. 'Send it!'

'Stop!' you yell.

'Ok, for real this time, you ready?' he asked, holding his arms over his chest and glancing back at you.

'I'm so scared!'

Tom looked at the camera. 'Why are you scared? i'm the one falling!'

'Ok, on the count of three,' you say, holding your arms out.

'Are you counting up or down?'

'Down. Ok, three... two...one!'

Tom fell back and you held him up, pushing his back. The two of you stumbled a bit causing Tom's eyes to widen, but you had him.

'You are heavier than you look,' you say. 'All that pure muscle.'

Tom struggled back up and then it was your turn. 'On the count of three?' he asked, arms out.

'No!' you whine. 'I hate this!'

'Trust me. Don't you trust me?'

You have your hands tucked to your side. You look into the camera. 'This is gonna send me right back to therapy.'

Tom laughs behind you but reaches over to hold onto your shoulders. 'C'mon, you can do this, i'll slowly ease you back.'

You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips, stifling a hum. 'That's cheating.'

Tom tuts, 'No it's not: now-' gently he held onto your shoulders and-bending at the knees- he gently eased you down, until he was crouching and until you were rocking on your heels. You took a deep breath as he held you back up. Your arms were still over your chest as your body wracked with a laugh.

'That was so dumb.'

Tom still had you in his hold, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

A year later and finally, the fans dreams came true. When the video was released, fans went crazy, thinking it was fake or a mashup of clips put together. Instead, it was true. A very real video of the two of you doing a 'couples quiz'.

'Hello!' Tom waved at the camera, before gesturing between the two of you. 'We are here today to do the-'

'Couples interview!' you finish. 'Years in the making it would seem,' you added, slapping your cards over your knee.

Tom looked at his cards. 'What is my first name?'

'Tom Keir Blyth,' you answer easily, 'not Thomas. Against popular contradiction.'

He laughed, knowing you'd call him Thomas to annoy him if you ever bickered. 'Not Thomas.'

'Call him Thomas and he'll break up with you.'

'That hasn't happened!' he told the camera, whacking you playfully with the cards a you sat across from him. 'Ok, moving on, where did I grow up?'

'Birmingham,' you say, in your best Birmingham accent.

'What was my fist film role?' he asked, smirking at the question.

You sigh, throwing your head back. 'Ok so... I don't know if it was your very first one, or maybe it was like, the second or something but you were in Robin Hood, and you played feral child number three.'

'That's exactly what I have on my card,' he said, showing it off to you.

'I'm the best girlfriend,' you sing.

Tom laughed, marvelling at you for a moment before moving onto the next question. 'Oh ok, where was our first kiss?'

You shrug, thinking it obvious. 'On set.'

Tom looked back down to his cards. 'Oh yea, I should've specified- our first kiss like as a couple, or just not on set.'

You laugh. 'Ok, cool, I was gonna say, that's an easy one. So of set, I guess, it was my hotel room. In New York, yea.'

'See, I had down-'

'You had something else down?' you gasp, leaning over in your chair.

'Yea. I had it down as the picnic, when you came to see me on set of Billy,' he explained. He remembered the day fondly. You and him, riding horses into the sandy terrain, taking a picnic down and one of his breaks and rolling around the blanket, laughing and digging fingertips into each other. Lips clashing in the heat of sun.

'But we- ok fine, that was our first kiss.'

'We did, kiss in the hotel room, you're right,' he insisted.

'No, but if you're counting first kiss as a couple then you're right, the picnic.'

'No you should still get the point because that kiss does count.'

Your exchange could've gone on forever if someone behind the camera hadn't spoken up, saying how adorable you two were, causing blushes from both of you before he moved on.

'What is my favourite thing to bring with me when I travel?' he asks.

'Me,' you say, without faltering.

'Correct!' he chucked the card behind him.

'Was it actually?'

Tom nodded. 'Yea. Well number one was you and then the second was my motorbike key.'

You roll your eyes. 'Of course it was. Thank you for putting me above the key at least.'

'Always, darling, always. What is my favourite jacket to wear?' he asked.

You thought about it, carefully and for a while. 'You don't have many but I'm trying to think which you wear the most.'

'I think you'll know it, you should get it.'

You raise your head to the ceiling, taking it more seriously than probably needed. He concentrated on you, wondering how hard you were thinking. 'The thing is- i'm thinking practicality. So like, that would be your motorbike jacket. But the one that I see you in most, and that I wear the most, is like your long, black jacket?'

'I had my motorbike jacket down, so half a point.'

'It crossed my mind!' you defended.

'It did, yes. So 50% of a point.'

You laugh. 'Not 75%.

'Who was my first celebrity crush?' he asked.

'Me,' you answer sarcastically.

Tom rose his card, covering his grin. 'Do you want to try again?'

'No,' you say. You knew what it was, you were taking the joke from him.

'Please?' he asked quietly.

You laugh at how wide his eyes were. 'Your first celebrity crush was Jennifer Anniston, ok.'

'Correct. But if I knew you back then, it would've been you.'

'Thanks, babe.'

'Ok, so I feel like you got pretty much every one of them,' said Tom, tucking his cards away.

'I feel like I did too, how ready do you feel Tom?' you asked.

Teasingly, he leant over, showing his forehead. 'See that? not a sweat. I've got this. Gimme some.'

'What are my dogs names?' you ask.

'Your oldest one is Padfoot, your youngest, the puppy dog is Moony.'

'Correct. Easy one. Ok, next, what is my favourite city?'

Tom's face dropped. 'That got harder so much quicker.'

'What? I thought this was easy.'

'Yea but it's between two. London or New York.'

'Well you've got them. I'd say right now it's New York though. Just because you're there,' you say jokingly.

'We're such a good couple.'

'The best. Lightning round. Favourite food?'

'Pizza.'

'Yes, favourite taylor swift album?'

'Folklore.'

'Easy. What is my favourite bag?'

Tom paused. 'It's a tote, your tote. Is it your waterstones one?'

Sadly, you shake your head. 'To be fair it's a new one i've got, it's my 'I heart new york one.'

Tom groaned. 'Of course it is, how did I not get that? I was literally with you when you brough it.'

'I have it with me today.'

'You do! oh my god, quickly move on before I get annoyed at myself.'

'Oh ok,' you grin down at the question and then pull a face, wondering yourself.

Tom watches, laughs and puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it affectionately. 'Are you alright? what's going on?'

'No, sorry, i'm just thinking about how to word this,' you pause and then, almost as if you weren't aware you were doing it, you hold onto his hand and ask the question. 'What is my favourite thing that you wear?'

Tom's expression matches your puzzled one. 'That I wear?'

'Yes. And I want you to take your time, think about it because you know it. And if you don't get this, we might be over,' you tell him.

Tom's jaw drops and he leans back in his chair, thinking. 'Don't say that!'

'Ok, it was a joke, sorry. But you do know this.'

Tom looks down at himself, but it was a new shirt and there was nothing special about these pants. The shoes were nice but you'd never cared for shoes. He checked his rings. You liked rings and you especially liked his rings but that couldn't have been it. 'Oh!' he almost kicked himself for not getting it sooner. 'Is it my- is it the necklace? he asks, pulling it from under his shirt.

'Yes!' you cheer, throwing the card over your shoulder and reaching over to high five him.

'I've never been so stressed in my life,' he laughed.

'So the necklace-' you start to explain to the camera as tom holds it out proudly, showing every crew and every camera as you laugh and smile at him. Never had you felt so in love. 'The necklace he wears all the time is the initial from the first letter of my name, just like-'

'Just like the Taylor Swift song,' finishes Tom, knowing how much you love it. Even now, you're smiling with teary eyes.

You had not brough it for him, but on your first anniversary Tom surprised you with it. You cried, wept. It was the first time you felt truly seen.

'I think you should sing it,' prompted Tom.

'I'm not singing it!'

'Go on! I love your voice!'

'No!'

'For me?' he asked.

You roll your eyes but don't really sing the song, you more say it: 'I want to wear his initials on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me, but obviously, it's you wearing mine so...'

'Thank you for watching our couples quiz!' Tom waves to the camera.

'All in all I think we're couple goals, yea?' you check.

'Oh, absolutely!'

And the show was all done, with you two waving. But the camera's didn't turn off quick enough to catch how Tom held your hand and kissed the inside of your palm.

Yea, absolutely in love.

#coriolanus snow #the hunger games #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction #coryo #tom blyth x you #fame dr #tom blyth x yn

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thecomfortgoth · 8 months

Text

Peeping Tom Part 2

18+ MDNI (just don't, ok?)

Part 1 can be found here. Masterlist can be found here.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader x Perv!Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve hadn't been able to get what he'd saw behind that gym block out of his mind. Even when he was fucking other girls. A confession, a confrontation and a deal is made.

WC: 8.2k

CW: unprotected p in v sex (use a condom, pls), booty call, masturbation (m), panty sniffing/licking, gaslighting, use of degrading pet names, use of praisey pet names, daddy kink, dom!Steve, ONE use of y/n (I tried avoiding it but I couldn't), face fucking, fingering (f receiving), Steve being a fuckboy and a pervert, very small & brief mention of a piss kink (only time this will ever happen), mention of squirting, posessiveness, jealousy, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, violence (there's a little bit of blood), bullying/teasing, illusions to/discussion of cheating, dirty talk, kinda angst? all characters are 18+

Please let me know if I've forgotten anything and I will add it.

A/N: okay here it is, part 2 finally. It was originally going to end up being huge so please don't worry, this is NOT the end of this story, there WILL be a part 3. I am a little worried this will be a bit of a let down, but I promise part 3 is gonna be worth it, so bare with me, it's coming. Leave feedback, let me know if you enjoyed it!

My requests are currently OPEN and I write for Eddie, Steddie, Steve and Billy. Send me some stuff!

Smut (and a little bit of angst this time) under the cut

He knew he'd find you here. Standing at your locker, completely unaware of his presence.

He snorted a quiet laugh to himself as he thought of how that wasn't the first time you didn't know he was there. He watched you from down the hall, sorting through textbooks and putting some in your bag, taking others out and slotting them into their rightful place inside the small metal closet full of your belongings.

His eyes gazed over the little dress you were wearing today. A gorgeous deep wine red, strappy with a black t-shirt underneath, the fabric hugging at your waist and flowing out around your hips. Your legs were bare, they looked like they were so fucking soft. The whole ensemble finished off with a pair of simple black leather platform ankle boots.

Steve had never really been one for noticing exactly what a girl was wearing, usually too focused on getting them out of their clothes to be bothered with it. But with you? It was different. He kinda wanted to fuck you fully clothed, hiking that pretty dress up enough for him to slot between your thighs and slip inside that soaked slit between your legs that he'd thought about since it was first revealed to him last week.

Fuck, he'd thought about it almost every night. Even when he was balls deep inside whatever his flavour of the day was. But he also thought about having you completely bare and exposed for him too. Alot.

Before he knew it, he was moving forwards, smirking a little as he saw your eyes flash towards him, finally noticing him. Your cheeks turned a real pretty shade of pink and he just knew it complimented the colour of your perky nipples, and that it had flushed all the way up to the tip of your ears.

You'd been actively trying to avoid him. Apart from a few little winks in the corridors in passing which made you want to shrivel up with embarrassment, you'd managed to successfully do so. But now he was coming up to you. And Eddie wasn't here to hide behind or use as an excuse or a distraction. The hallway was filled with strangers as you scanned around for one singular familiar face, cursing under your breath as you heard the footsteps get closer.

"Looking for someone, pretty girl?" He crooned, smooth and his voice still a little thick with the morning. Turning your head you saw him leaning against the locker next to yours, a thumb slotted into the belt loop of blue jeans as his other hand held the strap of his backpack.

Fuck. You had to talk to him now. You didn't want to be rude and you definitely didn't want to just walk away. It'd look really fucking strange if you did that. As much as you wanted to, so badly. "Uh.. n-no I was just.. seeing if Eddie was coming, he should be here a-any second now" you stuttered out nervously, giving him a small tight lipped smile, trying to deter him by threatening the appearance of your large intimidating boyfriend. You definitely had scary dog privileges, and you were thankful for it right now.

"Oh I'm sure he's coming alright" he grinned at you, bearing his teeth like a shark, eyeing you up and down slowly, drinking you in. You found it somewhat threatening. Even if you couldn't help but think about just how perfect his incisors would feel sinking into the skin of your shoulder. You swallowed and shook your head a little at his comment, trying to get rid of your thoughts as the blush on your face deepened.

"Look, Steve, I-I know you saw us that day behind the gym block b-but-" you started, looking down at your feet as you closed your locker but were cut off by him laughing a little at you. Kind of meanly. You looked at him in confusion, reaching up and fiddling with the guitar pick necklace of Eddie's that you always wore. He'd told you it would show everyone you were his girl - even if everyone already knew that. It'd become somewhat of a security item for you now.

"B-but what?" He mocked you a little, cocking his head to the side and looking at you now like he pitied you, still with that fucking stupid grin on his face. "Don't sit there and act all shy, sweets. You definitely weren't when I sat and watched your boyfriend drill his dick inside you while you flicked your tongue at me and watched me cum in front of you" he chuckled low, getting a little closer to you.

You still couldn't look at him. You kept your gaze on the floor, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot. You felt like the walls were closing in the closer he got, feeling your back hit against the cool metal behind you and a hand plant itself next to your head, the sound of it making you gasp a little and your head shooting up. You looked at the hand. It was his hand. His big, thick fingers tapping steadily at the grate of the locker. Why did you clench your thighs at the sight of them, thinking about how they'd feel stuffed inside you?

You turned your face slowly to see him closer than ever, only inches from your face now. Jesus fucking Christ, what was he doing?! Eddie was sure to come around the corner any moment now and catch you two like this. And he'd fucking rip him limb from limb if he saw him up this close and personal to you. Even if he wasn't even touching you. "Y-you need to go" you squeaked out pathetically, your voice just above a whisper.

"Why? I mean, it's not like Eddie's gonna really care. He let me watch you two fuck, didn't he?" He grinned his teeth at you wider, the grin faltering a little as you ducked your head again. "Shit" he muttered under his breath. "He had no fucking clue did he? You let me see all that and he didn't even know? And you still haven't ratted me out? Wow, maybe you are a dirty little slut after all, keeping naughty little secrets like that from your boyfriend" he groaned a little, getting a tiny bit closer. "Wonder if you'd keep any more dirty little secrets from him.." he said in a raspy tone, making your heart flutter at a million miles an hour for more than one reason.

"You want me to make your cunt drip down your leg with my cum like he did that day?" He smirked as you gasped at his words, your face shooting up as you looked at him angrily now, Steve getting ever closer to you as his hot breath fanned your face. "He doesn't have to know, does he? Cause you can keep a secret, can't you?"

You'd had enough. You couldn't fucking take this bullshit anymore. You used all your strength and pushed him away from you, watching as he stumbled back and laughed at you, seeing you storm off down the hallway with the straps of your backpack gripped tightly in both hands. Your face was now matching the colour of your dress and your jaw clenched, lips pursed tightly against each other as you made your way to class, steam practically rising out of your head.

He'd got what he wanted. He'd successfully riled you up. And he knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He smirked in your direction, watching the way the skirt of your dress would flounce around your ass as you briskly walked off. He couldn't help but kiss the air again in your direction, like he'd done that day last week, before he made his way to his own class. His mind now filled with a million dirty thoughts, a lot of them about throwing you in a janitor's closet and making a mess of that pretty little flushed face of yours and getting that little dress off you. As much as he'd love to be inside your cunt with it still draped over your every curve.

That night was just a normal Wednesday night, and Steve had no plans. His parents were gone and it wasn't quite the weekend so there was no use trying to throw a party. But he couldn't shake the thought of your pretty dress and the way it swished around your thighs, almost revealing your round, jiggly ass to him as you walked off.

How it hugged against your swollen chest as you huffed down the corridor angrily. He wasn't sure why he found the thought of you walking away all pissed off and embarrassed because he'd been teasing you at school so fucking hot. He smirked to himself, humming a little and feeling a tent in his pants form as he lounged around on the couch in his grey sweats and no shirt, his bare hairy chest fully exposed to the elements.

He palmed at himself a little, thinking back to what he had seen in that alley that day. The way you looked at him, the way you licked your lips, the way your mouth fell open and you made a really pretty noise when Eddie fucked you a certain way, probably hitting your g-spot with the head of his cock. Fuck. He groaned at the thought of that, how your pussy would flutter at having that special spot inside you battered against repeatedly with a thick cock.

Steve was rock solid now. He wanted to push his dick between your wet little lips and face fuck you into next fucking year, make your eyes water and your drool spill down your chin and neck, soaking the collar of whatever you were wearing. Or just your bare tits if he'd got you out of your clothes by that point.

But he can't, cause you're Eddie's. And yeah, maybe that did make him a little jealous, because he wanted to destroy you and leave you more of a mess than Eddie had. More of a mess than you probably had ever been.

Fuck it. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his boner himself, not when he could have someone else's hand wrapped around him at a moment's notice, the perks of being "The King". He pushed himself up off the couch, heading up to his room to find his little notebook of girls phone numbers he kept. You know, the kind that any popular senior high guy would have.

Or maybe it was just Steve. Chicks really digged Steve for some reason. He wasn’t sure if it was the hair, his charm or the fact that he was more than well endowed. Or maybe he just knew a lot of slutty girls. He looked through the book, trying to find someone who was even anything close to you. Although they'd never compare, not in a million years.

Not Tammy, she sounds like a fucking muppet even when she’s having sex, especially when she cums. Steve shuddered at the memory of it. Not Nancy, she's with Jonathan and definitely too much of a goody two shoes to cheat on him, even if he knows that his dick has to be bigger and better than that little rat looking fuckers. He scoffs a laugh as he flips past her name.

He finds a girls name, no last name, just written down hastily as “Claire from Chem class”. He couldn’t remember who that was for a minute, he had to think about it. Wow, was he really that much of a manwhore? He chuckled to himself as he thought of it, coming to the conclusion that he was but he didn't particularly care.

Suddenly his eyes went wide when he remembered that she was the girl who could deepthroat a cock without taking a breath for at least 5 minutes. And she’d let him cum inside her, she did last time. “Shit” he hissed out, rubbing at his erection over his sweats, mulling it over in his head. She did have the same hair colour as you. And the same body shape. So it would make imagining it was you much easier. He picked up his phone and immediately dialled her number, confident in his choice of fuckdoll for tonight. It wasn’t long before she answered the phone eagerly, giving him a sweet little “Hello?”

He smirked to himself, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he lounged back against the headboard of his bed, the cord of the phone stretching over as he lazily stroked a finger up and down the outline of his clothed dick. “Hey babygirl” he said down the phone, turning that charm up to 11 as he heard Claire from Chem Class giggle and say his name down the phone breathily, clearly trying to be sexy. “What are you up to, gorgeous? You wanna come over? I’ve missed you”

It's not long before Claire is at his place, he’s grabbing at her and pulling her close the second she's in through the door, biting his lip at her and sliding his hands up her hips to her waist, pressing her against the wall next to the front door, her hands going to his shoulders and laying there, letting him feel her up as he pleased.

He does notice as she's trying to say hello to him that she’s wearing a nice little blue denim skirt and a white tank top that pushes her tits up nicely, they’re just about as big as yours too and they make him groan at the sight of them, surging forward and sloppily making out with her, all tongue and teeth and spit as she reached down and cupped his bulge. She fucking knew exactly what she was coming here for, the little whore.

The thought makes him stiffen further in his sweats as he moves his hands under her top, cupping at her bare tits, pinching at her stiff nipples a little meanly as she whimpered into his mouth. Fuck, no bra. And suddenly he’s thinking about you again. How you showed Eddie (and him) your tits behind the gym block that day. Completely exposing yourself for any wandering eyes to potentially see.

He fucking practically growled, picking the girl up who he’d basically asked to come over so he could use her like a fleshlight, wrapping her legs around his waist, carrying her upstairs and into his bedroom. He swatted a firm hand down onto her ass and listened to her moan out as he grabbed at it under her skirt, not bothering to close his door behind them. No one was home so it didn’t matter.

He quickly got her to the edge of his bed, stripping her off out of the few pieces of clothes she actually was wearing, tossing her pretty blue lace panties into the corner of his room. Not before he brought them up to his face and inhaled them deeply as she leaned forward and sloppily made out with his neck, flicking his tongue over the small wet patch of her arousal he could see darkening them. She wouldn’t be getting those back, that was safe to say. He’d be adding them to the pile of girls underwear he’d started collecting in the last few months which he’d started doing for… reasons.

God, what he’d give to have a pair of your panties, he doesn’t care what colour they are or if they were sexy or not, he just wanted to have something that had been pressed tightly against your cunt all day, soaked with your sweet wetness, something he could sniff and lick at just like he did a moment ago with Claire Whoever's, something he could wrap around his cock and get himself off with whenever he wanted. Or until it was too covered in his cum and he physically couldn’t use them anymore.

He tossed her onto his bed with a bounce, standing at the side smirking down at her as she looked up at him, licking her lips as her eyes hungrily watched him shuffle his sweats off, his cock springing up against stomach and already leaking a little. It was all because of the thoughts of you he’d been having. And maybe also a little because this Claire girl from chem class was actually pretty hot. He got onto the bed in front of her, spreading her legs and holding them apart for him, studying her shaved wet pussy that was spread open wide for him as he hovered over her.

Steve wasn't fussy about pussy hair or the lack thereof, if there was a hole and a clit for him to bully, he really didn't care about anything else. But yours had a tiny patch of hair, perfectly groomed that sat just above your slit. He wondered what it’d feel like against his tongue if he licked that little patch of hair on your cunt. If he’d be able to taste you from it before he’d even dipped his tongue into you.

He heard her whine a little, grinning down at her like she was his prey, rolling her hips towards him ever so slightly. “Keep your legs open for me just like that babe, yeah?” he said as he slipped a hand between her legs and slid his fingers up and down her already soaked slit, teasing her as he watched her whimper and gasp underneath him, leaning down to kiss and bite at her neck, not particularly caring if he was being too hard or not.

She didn’t say anything anyway, she just moaned out so he assumed she was enjoying it. He quickly remembered she was the type to like being used, maybe a little bit of a pillow princess. He wondered if you’d like that too, if you'd just lay there and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to you, move you around however he wanted to.

“You gonna suck me off like you did last time, baby? I haven’t forgotten what you can do with that fuckin’ throat of yours” he groaned against her neck, licking over the teeth marks he’d just made in her skin. She nodded her head and placed her hands on his shoulders again, which he swiftly grabbed by each of her wrists and pinned above her head, pulling back to look down at her as he used one big hand to tightly bind her wrists together and push them into the mattress a bit more.

“I asked you a fuckin' question. I expect you to answer me, using your words. Or is that too much for your dumb little brain to handle?” he said through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw a little. Safe to say, Steve definitely liked to be the one in control in the bedroom, he liked overpowering girls, making them bend to his will and obey his every command.

“Y-yes daddy” she whimpered pathetically, and she almost sounded just like how he imagined you would if you said the same thing. He chuckled lowly, his cock twitching at what she’d just called him, leaning down and placing his other hand on her jaw, opening her mouth for him as he licked into it and then spat directly on her tongue, watching as she swallowed before shuffling himself up so he was straddling her chest, still holding her wrists in one hand as he lined up his cock with her mouth.

“Thats what I like to fuckin’ hear, atta girl. Now open wide, don’t keep me fucking waiting." he gritted out, watching as she parted her lips and suddenly thrusting his whole length into her mouth, moaning out as he felt her gag around him at the sudden intrusion, but welcoming him in all the same. He fucked her mouth just like that, closing his eyes and pretending it was your mouth he was fucking into instead, feeling her squirm a little underneath him and listening to all the little whimpers and whines coming from her between chokes and gags. He wasn’t exactly quiet either, moaning and groaning without abandon as he pumped himself harshly into her throat.

"Stay still, slut. I'll just fuck harder if you don't stop, leave your throat all bruised from the inside, that what you want, hm?" She sighed a breath through her nose and whined as he said that, stopping her writhing and just laying there, letting him use her mouth for his own pleasure, spreading her legs wider behind him, exposing her pussy to the cool air of his room. Just like he'd wanted.

He continues on like that for a few minutes, until she slaps her hand back on the pillow a few times to let him know she needs some air, pulling out and moving beside her, taking one of her hands and wrapping it around his cock. He moved it up and down, silently instructing her to stroke him, his hand slipping between her legs again and immediately finding her clit, rubbing harsh circles into it for a moment before sliding his fingers down to her entrance and pushing two of his fingers inside her, hearing her moan out his name, not really close to how he’d imagined you would but it would do.

He latched his mouth onto the nipple closest to him and sucked at the peaked bud, licking and slurping at it harshly. He pumped his fingers in and out of her fast and hard, feeling her pussy clench and flutter around his digits, groaning as he made her cum on his fingers after a few short minutes, listening to her moan loudly, calling her a dirty whore and asking her if she liked being used like this, to which she just whimpered and nodded, fucked out and drooling all over herself already.

Steve was too fucking good sometimes. He could have girls squirting with minimal effort sometimes, and yeah maybe he was a little cocky about it. Even if Steve really was only after his own release, he still made sure they had a good time. Good enough they'd come back begging for more and he could have a healthy collection of all kinds of girls he could take his pick from whenever he fancied it.

Soon after, he’s moving between her legs, grabbing both of her calves and pushing her legs right back, her knees almost touching her shoulders. “Think you’re ready for me now, baby. You want daddy’s cock filling you up nice and deep?” he moaned a little, reaching down to position himself at her entrance, not giving her a chance to respond before he was thrusting inside of her and bottoming out immediately.

He didn’t like to waste time with these girls, which is why he immediately got to thrusting inside her, leaning back on his heels as he held her legs up in the air, open wide for him. He listened as she cried out at the stretch of him, grabbing the pillow behind her tightly and screwing her face up as her mouth hung wide open, her tits bouncing obscenely as his balls slapped against her ass with each pump of his hips.

He imagined it was your gorgeous face. Your pretty round tits. You laying on your back underneath him, spread wide for him as he fucked into you faster and harder, groaning and cursing as he watched you lose your fucking mind beneath him, moaning louder and louder with each thrust. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in it, lost in the feeling of the girls tight cunt swallowing him up, lost in the fantasy of fucking you behind Eddie’s back.

He just had to break you down a little first, get you to the point you couldn’t resist and would just have to fuck him. He saw how you looked at him, how you licked those lips at him and your gaze stayed on him the whole time your boyfriend was railing you against the wall. Through his thoughts, he distantly heard a voice moan something about how his dick was so big and how she was gonna cum again.

“I know baby, I know, s’so big isn’t it? You’re so fucking tight jesus f-FUCK, you like being fucked like this? Like being used and being my little stupid cockwhore y/n? Bet you fucking do, such a slut fucking me while you're with Eddie” he moaned out loudly, not even realising what he was fucking saying. Suddenly the girl beneath him went quiet, but he continued on, still rutting into her, eyes closed tightly as he moaned at the thought of what you’d say back to him, imagining all sorts of filth coming out of your mouth.

“What did you just fucking say?” That wasn’t your voice.

Shit. He looked down at the girl beneath him who was giving him daggers, still fucking her but slowing down a little as he gave her a confused look, shaking his head and panting. “What? Do you not like being called a slut or something? I thought you liked it last time” He honestly couldn’t remember if she did or not, but he started to realise what he’d just said and was trying to cover his own ass.

“No, not that you fucking- get off me!” she said, sitting up and slapping at his chest, shuffling back from him as his cock slid out of her and he sat back on his heels, holding his hands out in front of himself and shaking his head again.

“What are you talking about then?”

“Who’s name did you just fucking say?”

“Yours?”

“You absolutely did not fucking say my name! You said Eddie Munsons girlfriend's name!” she barked at him, looking at him as her face screwed up angrily, her eyes narrowing in on him. “Were you just thinking about her while you were fucking me?!”

“What? I didn’t say her name! You’re fucking hearing shit, you’re that fucked out your making shit up in your head, come on babe, stop being fucking stupid and I can make you cum again and give you a nice big load of my mine” he tutted, sighing out loudly as he tried to reach forward for her, but she slapped his hands away, getting up off the bed as she looked around for her clothes. He watched her as she did so, seeing the glisten of her arousal leak down her thighs a little that he wanted to lick up with his tongue. Shit. He’d fucked up. But he only cared because his dick was painfully hard at this point and he really needed to cum. He reached down and began tugging at himself lazily, watching as she started putting her top on.

“Yes you fucking did. Stop jerking off, jesus christ. I thought you actually liked me, I thought that's why you’d called me and asked me to come over again!” she yelled at him, her expression a little hurt but mostly still angry as she hurriedly shimmied her skirt up her legs to her hips, toeing on her sneakers.

Steve was done with this shit. He fucking hated when girls assumed that they meant more to him than a quick dirty lay. He scoffed a laugh at her, shaking his head as he leaned back on his bed on an elbow, still jerking himself as he smirked at her and moaned out a little.

“Baby, you’re really gonna try that? You knew I was just calling you for a fuck, I already told you before I didn’t want anything serious with you” he chuckled, stroking the remnants of her slick over the head of his cock as he grinned at her, all teeth and sharklike. “Besides, what if I did say her name, hm? Can’t blame me, she’s a real fucking pretty girl. Got a pretty cunt too”

“Yeah, like you’d know, Eddie'd fucking kill you if you went near her so I know you haven't." Steve just shrugged and smirked at her, continuing to jerk at himself as he watched her roll her eyes and scoff at him. Oh if only she fucking knew. "Don’t fucking call me again, Steve. Lose my fucking number in that stupid little phone book of yours!” she yelled out, he could see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she stormed out of his room and down the stairs, hearing the front door slam shut as Claire From Chem Class left.

He knew he should feel bad, he’d clearly hurt her feelings. But he really didn’t. He’d literally just wanted to fuck her, dump his cum inside her or over her tits or something and then kick her out anyway.

He shrugged to himself, getting up and going over to the panties that she’d not even bothered to look for, taking them in his hand as he lay back against his headboard, wrapping them tightly around his cock and biting his lip, bucking up into his fist as he continued his fantasies about you, openly moaning your name and other disgusting things, rather than just thinking them, now that he was alone.

“Mmm.. you wouldn’t storm out if I said another girls name, would you baby? No, you wouldn’t, you'd be too fucking cockdrunk and gone for me.. Too fucked out with me licking your cunt, making you cum as many times as I could before splitting you open with my dick, you'd take it all baby, wouldn't you?.."

"I need to fuck you so bad, I don’t care if you have a boyfriend or if he knows or not, I need to be inside that fuckin’ dripping hole, need to feel it for myself.."

"Maybe you'd let me in your ass too, oh god, bet s'just as perfect as your pussy, you gonna show that to me too honey? Come on, spread those cheeks for me and lemme see, oh fuck.."

It wasn’t soon after that he was spilling out into the blue lace snug around his length and his hand, moaning out your name loudly. And it wasn’t the first time tonight he’d cum thinking about you. He had to throw those panties out with how many times he’d jizzed all over them while he thought about you and fucking every hole of yours available to him.

The next day at school, people were definitely talking. And Steve wasn’t sure why. He watched a few people whisper and look at him before quickly averting their gaze when he made eye contact. What the hell? He looked at them all confused, watching as a couple people walked by him and held their heads down, giggling as they did so. He sighed to himself, thinking that Carol was spreading more shit around the school about him.

He’d fucked her a few times behind Tommy H’s back, she’d said she was gonna leave Tommy for him because she loved him, Steve laughed at her and told her not to bother. She obviously didn’t take that too well and ended up making up some.. quite honestly entertaining and colourful rumours about Steve and the kind of things he was into. He’d set everyone straight when he revealed the real reason she’d been talking shit, Carol trying to deny that anything happened between her and Steve, but it was written all over her face.

Tommy dumped her on the spot and she chased after him, begging and crying for him to forgive her, saying that it didn��t mean anything, which is clearly not what she’d been saying before.

So he thought nothing of it, thinking she’d started up her hate campaign again because Tommy still wouldn’t take her back. The old rumours were quickly squashed by some other girls confirming that he definitely wasn’t into what she'd said he was and definitely didn’t have a piss kink. Okay, maybe the last one was up for debate a little, since he really did like it when he had girls squirting all over his hands, his cock or his face and he wasn’t sure if that was practically the same thing or not. He’d have to look into it to be totally sure.

He made his way over to his locker, not paying any more mind to the people around him, mentally shrugging it off since he really doesn’t care at the end of the day. He’ll still The King. He was practically untouchable, really. If he could deal with Billy Hargrove literally trying to dethrone him the minute he got here, and it still hadn’t happened? Then nothing could. He opened his locker and began shoving some random shit in there from his bag, picking up a calculus book that he knew he needed for class this afternoon so he wouldn’t need to come back later.

“HARRINGTON!” Eddie barked, turning the corner and immediately finding the exact fucking gross pervert he’d been looking for. He looked fucking livid, clenching his fists by his side as he stormed up to him, his big boots stomping along the linoleum.

Steve turned his head as he heard the angry voice calling his name, freezing on the spot. He wasn’t scared of Eddie, even if he did look a little intimidating and there were rumours about him being a Satan worshipper and a cult leader because of that little D&D club he ran. But the way he was coming towards him, looking a bit unhinged like was ready to kill someone, did give Steve a slight cause for concern. Shit, had you told him? Had he finally found out that you’d been making eyes at Steve behind his back while he jerked off and watched Eddie fuck you?

“Munson, what can I do for you? You look a bit.. pissed off, but that's nothing new really is it?” he laughed a little, shutting over his locker. He was about to turn around when he felt a hand grab at the collar of his shirt, dragging him along and into the empty classroom that was right across the hall from his locker.

Okay, maybe he was a little scared now.

Eddie threw him into the room and Steve stumbled a little, turning around to fix his shirt and brush himself off as he looked at the tall metalhead who was slamming the door shut and locking it, turning to face him again and slowly stepping towards the slightly shorter boy. Steve wasn’t scared at all now, he was just fucking annoyed. “What the fuck Munson?! Who the fuck do you think you’re laying your hands on?” he said, stepping closer to him and poking him in the chest as he did so.

“Whats this I just fucking heard about you fucking Claire Quinn last night, but moaning my girls fucking name while you were doing her?” he spat confidently, his jaw clenching tightly as he finished his sentence.

"Oh that was her name. Claire Quinn." Steve chuckled a little meanly. "Just had her down as Claire from Chem Class"

Eddie was well known to be protective and possessive over you. He didn’t like any guy looking at you for a little too long or in a certain way, always pulling you closer to him and giving them death stares. Sometimes it’d get the better of him though and he’d get physical with these guys depending on what they said or did. He’d punched Gareth once for saying that he thought you looked nice today. He soon apologised to him, realising that Gareth was actually just being nice. He'd smacked a cafeteria tray across Jason Carvers face once when he smiled at you. He didn't apologise to him.

The random guy that one time in The Hideout who grabbed your ass and said that your boyfriend didn’t need to know about it if you went home with him (when said boyfriend was stood right behind him as he said it) even after you'd told him you really weren't interested, deserved the broken nose, the missing tooth and both of you being banned from coming back for a month. It was worth missing a few gigs to Eddie, to know he’d successfully protected what was his. You’d ridden him in the back of his van 5 minutes later too, so he knew it’d turned you on and you liked it.

Steve just looked at him, blinking at him for a second before he burst out laughing, walking over to a desk and leaning back against it, folding his arms over his chest as he shook his head. “So that's what everyones been talking about huh?” he laughed quietly again, shrugging his shoulders and smirking at Eddie. “And what if I did?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Steve. I really do not give a fuck who you are around here, I will knock your fucking teeth out if you even think about my girl again” he stepped right up to him, pointing a finger in his smarmy fucking face. Usually people would retreat by now, as soon as Eddie bared his teeth to them.

But Steve wasn’t. He continued smirking at him, keeping eye contact and Eddie was a little intimidated himself. After all Steve Harrington was the most popular guy in school and Eddie was literally fucking getting all up in his personal space right now. He could have Eddie’s life ruined in a simple trip to see Chief Hopper and a few mentions of the illicit substances that Eddie was well known around school to be in possession of at almost all times.

“You know you won’t” Steve grinned at him, licking across his teeth a little. “Come on, what's so bad about me thinking about your girl? I mean… I’ve already seen you two fucking behind the gym block”

The colour drained from Eddie’s face. Looking at him with wide eyes, blinking as he processed exactly what he’d just said. Fuck. Was he lying? No, he can't be. No one knew you had both been there or what you'd done. How much exactly had he seen? He scoffed, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air as he turned his back to him, slowly stepping away as he tried to think of what to do here.

He was even more annoyed now, especially since he knows for a fact that Steve had seen you in one of your most intimate moments with Eddie. But he also knew if he did to him what he did to that dude from The Hideout, he’d be immediately expelled and he would never graduate. He really needed that fucking diploma this year, he’d already had a do over. He absolutely couldn't do another.

Steve knew he had too much on the line to try anything, at least in school. But they didn’t really cross paths outside. Not really even at parties, since he usually made some girl get his weed for him, thinking he’d be able to get a discount if he did so. And just purely because he knew he could get certain girls to do anything for him and it amused him. “I mean, your girl totally enjoyed it. Shoulda seen the way she was looking at me, licking her lips and shit while I jerked off, she came quite a lot didn’t she? She ever squirted like that with you before? Nice puddle left behind, I'd have got on my knees and fucking drank it from her cunt if I coulda” he laughed, deciding he wanted to poke the bear a little

That was it. Eddie's vision went completely red, he was suddenly like a bull and Steve was the matador.

He turned around and charged towards him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming his back up against the nearest wall, punching him quickly and getting right into his face, almost touching as Steve laughs in his face with his eyes screwed shut, his nose aching from the ring clad fist that just smacked into it. “Don’t you fucking dare say that shit about her. She’d never do that shit. I fucking know my girl and she’s not fucking like that” he growled at him through gritted teeth, watching as Steve lifted a finger up, swiping the tiny amount of blood dripping from his nostril now and continued laughing in his face.

“I’m serious, ask her. She sat there and watched me and she didn’t say shit to you the whole time, she was fucking loving it to making all those noises for both of us” he said, still chuckling a little as he saw Eddie rear up to punch him again. Okay, time to try and deescalate a bit, he was really pushing his buttons and maybe going a little too far here. “Ask her! Just ask her first before you beat my ass, fuck dude" he laughed loudly again, watching as Eddie leaned back a bit, still keeping him pinned to the wall but lowering his other fist. “I know I'm laughing but I'm deadly serious, you need to ask her about it”

Eddie was still raging inside. But as he thought about it, now he was a little angry at you too, not just Steve. Why hadn’t you said anything to him? You had been the one who was so scared about someone catching you that day. So why hadn’t you said a fucking word to him when Steve had inevitably seen you both? He was a tiny bit hurt too, that you willingly let someone watch you both having sex. Especially Steve Harrington, one of the most attractive guys in school, probably in Hawkins actually. Even Eddie thought so, despite the fact he’d absolutely never admit to it.

He stepped back a bit more, letting go of Steve's shirt as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to think of exactly how he was going to ask you about this. Trying to decide how he was going to deal with him, now he didn’t know if he actually had a good reason to be violent like he wanted to be.

“What’s it gonna take for you to leave my girlfriend alone and not look at her or.. Or even think about her anymore?” he asked, rubbing at his stubbly chin and finally looking at the annoyingly handsome brown haired boy who was currently trying to fix himself up a little.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head as he fished out a tissue from his bag. “You’re not gonna fucking like what my honest answer would be to that question, Munson. And I’m not exactly thrilled at the possibility of another knuckle sandwich” he chuckled slightly, finally finding a hanky and wiping his nose with it, shoving it back in his bag and ruffling his hand through his hair.

“Just fucking say it, I really don’t fucking care, you’ve already said enough” Eddie sighed a little defeatedly, shaking his head as he turned his gaze to look out the window, crossing his arms over his chest. He was honestly still trying to process what Steve had just told him.

He really couldn’t get over the thought of you just letting someone perv on the two of you and get off to it, encouraging it. And he was also slightly confused about the fact that he thinks he would have found it hot having someone watch, if you had told him at the time. It made his blood boil and his dick twitch all at the same time. This was definitely something he’d have to unpack later on.

Steve studied him as he leaned back on the desk again, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, crossing his ankles over one another. He thought about it for a second, whether to actually say it or not. He absolutely didn’t need to think about what he wanted to do to you, what it would take. He’d been thinking about that for a whole fucking week now already since he first saw you both. And he’d always fantasised about you anyway, since he’d never even had a chance to get into your panties.

You’d been inseparable from Eddie since pretty much the first week you’d moved to Hawkins, even if you’d only been friends for a few months before you got together. Eddie had made sure of it that no one even got a look in, since he’d fallen in love with you the moment he saw you.

“I wanna fuck her. That's what it'd take. Just once, and then I’ll leave you both alone. If I happen to catch you guys getting it on again, I’ll walk away. It’ll probably make me stop thinking about her too, it’ll be out of my system or something” He fucking wouldn’t stop thinking about you, he never would. You were literally the one thing he couldn’t ever have and that made you even more desirable to him. And Steve wasn’t one to give up without a bit of a fight to get what he wanted. At least if he got to fuck you, he’d be able to dig up the memories while he jerked off or fucked some other girl.

Eddies head snapped round at him as soon as he said he wanted to fuck you, staring at him in complete fucking disbelief. He burst out laughing and shook his head. “Not a fucking chance in hell, Harrington. You can get that idea so fucking far out of your head” he chuckled, staring the boy down as he licked across his teeth and clenched his jaw again. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was? He’d just punched him in the face for saying shit about you, did he seriously think he’d just give you to him, like he was loaning him a guitar or something, and let him rail you?

Steve shrugged, looking down at his shoes as he toed a scuff mark off the side of one of them. “Then at least let me watch again” he said matter of factly, shrugging as he smirked and looked back at Eddie. “One last time, then I swear I won’t bother the lovely couple ever again” he chuckled, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous that sounded.

Eddie stared at him, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he mulled it over. He really fucking didn’t want to let him watch. He didn't want him to see you as you fell apart under Eddie's touch again. But he also kinda really did? Besides, it would be a one off thing. And it’d keep Steve away from you. If you’d really already let him watch before, then he’d already seen everything…

“Okay, fine,” Eddie said quietly, throwing his hands in the air in surrender. “One fucking time. But I swear to god Harrington…” he stalked towards him, pointing a long thick finger at him. Steve wonders if he got close enough if he’d be able to smell you off of his fingers still, from the last time they’d been plunged inside you. “If I even so much as hear a single fucking thing of you saying her name again or talking about her or.. Or.. you even so much as breathing near her.. I’ll do worse than punch you in that big fuckin' nose again"

Steve smirked at him, keeping eye contact as he narrowed his slightly, licking at his lips slowly and not missing the way the tall metalheads eyes linger on them for a second too long. He felt his cock kick up in his jeans at the mere suggestion of seeing you exposed to him again. He’d have to go deal with that before class. He's sure he has a Polaroid or two of Pam in his bag that he stole from her bedroom the last time he fucked her that he could use as quick spank material.

“Deal.” he said, grabbing hold of Eddie's hand and shaking it, startling the long haired boy slightly. “Just let me know where and when, Munson. If that's all and we’re done here..” Steve said, grinning at him as he leaned down and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he patted the metalhead on his own a little patronisingly, making his way over to the door and leaving the room, heading down the hallway to get rid of the now uncomfortable bulge he was packing in his pants.

He had a smug fucking smile on his face the whole way to bathroom, thinking of how he would soon see your perfect body again.

Hopefully you'd love his eyes on you while you're spread out and being made to cum as much as you did last time.

I'd like to thank @elvendria @changemunson and @emsgoodthinkin for their help and encouragement on this chapter. I really REALLY could not have done it without you all, especially Elvendria who had to sit and listen to me have a fucking Menty B over a discord call because of some stuff that's now gonna be in part 3 lmfao.

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika

Taglist: @aol19 @thewillowsareskipping @htycp890 @sllooney @justmeinadaze @inesven @tlclick73 @munsonslure @madaboutjoe @falling-throughthe-hourglass @hazzaismyreligion @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lilianraynne @moonflower1387 @eddiesguitarskills @ancientcrone-blog @dovakinbruh @sameyessblue @love-me-satoru @peach97 @org12 @fireflyislands @5tud10-54r4h @kennzie @myfavoritesareproblematic @emsgoodthinkin @lunakitty2608 @hideoutside @thegothicfox @kelseyms-world @bandaids-n-porcelain

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tichiox1 · 1 year

Text

Bill kaulitz☆ headcannons (with nsfw)

Word count:560

Sorry yall i was thirsty and bored

_____________________________

Sfw

☆-When you two met you two instantly clicked like puzzle pieces before you knew it the both of you started to become friends .

☆-Bill started the first conversation (he's chatty ) you were tense and nervous at first i mean why wouldn't you he's Bill Kaulitz!!

☆-The favorite thing you two do together is either shopping or just talking to each other about anything (gossiping).

☆-Bill sometimes ask for your help with writing songs and translating it to english (he wants it to sound good in both!!).

☆-But before you realised it you started to have feelings for Bill , He's always so sweet and nice about everything but he's also a menace .

☆-Bill was the one who confessed , The two of you was just watching Tv and hanging out and he just dropped the bomb and blurted it out .

☆-"I like you" He suddenly said and you were like "Huh" (but of course you accepted but it was very unexpected).

☆-Tom's really happy for Bill ! He sometimes makes jokes that he's not gonna be a virgin anymore infront of everyone which makes Bill flustered.

☆-Bill's public about his relationship with you which makes some fan girls sad and some of them bad mouths you but you don't care (At least you got your mans).

☆-Bill writes songs about you!!

☆-He likes to go on dinner dates with you and watch movies at home after.

☆-He likes cuddling , he doesn't mind if he's the big spoon or little spoon he just wants to hold you.

☆-He makes you wear matching bracelets or rings with him (It's really cute ngl).

☆-Even when you aren't looking you sometimes feel him looking at you and smiling.

☆-Holding hands ✅✅

☆-You sometimes hug him or kiss him before he performs (he gets really nervous).

☆-If you don't like the Paparazzi he'll take off his jacket and cover you with it .

_____________________________

Nsfw

☆-He likes to make out with you after performing .

☆-He's really sweet in bed but also very kinky(Chains , collars , blindfolds , handcuffs , ect) .

☆-He likes to take his time , not that rough but if he's extra sexually frustrated buckle up and get ready.

☆-When he makes out with you there's always tongue if it's heated then expect it.

☆-Whenever you two make out he leaves alot of hickeys like a shit ton of it all over your neck , collarbone , shoulder ect(Mans just kinky like that).

☆-He's a switch don't fight me ,i get that feeling he is , (he radiates that feeling jk).

☆-He likes to grunt , groan if he's really feeling it he'll softly moan .

☆-He likes to eat you out like a full course meal .

☆-When i say he's sweet he really is , when you feel uncomfortable he'll stop immediately and ask you "what's wrong?" "Are you ok?" softly almost a whisper.

☆-Foreplay.

☆-Whenever you two make out he rubs his knee on your crotch .

☆-He wants to make out with you anywhere anytime if you're up for it , against the wall , On the bed while he's on top of you , Just as long as you give him permission it's all good .

☆-He's good with his hands.

☆-If you do want to lead it's fine with him , he doesn't mind .

☆-alot of teasing like alot lot , but he'll feel bad eventually and touches you where you want him too.

_____________________________

Nah bro why did i write this i haven't even held someones hands romantically before what am i doing😦

I was once an innocent gorl just a year ago idk what happened 😭😭

But hope you guys enjoyed and ill write more don't worry (i was also bored when i wrote this so )

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz gif #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz smut #bf headcannons #fluffy

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julilovesyou444 · 11 months

Note

ok first of all your writing is so good i’m literally in love????? anyways, could i request a tom x reader fluff with them cuddling but like tom doesn’t rly know how to do it bc he’s used to hook ups and stuff and so it’s diff for him?? i feel like that’s super specific but i think i wld be so cuteee idkk. anyways tysm pookie 💗💗💗

show me how ~ tom kaulitz

AHHHH thank you love!! you are so sweet💟 I’ll try!!! thank you for requesting, this is my first time doing one of these so I’ll do my best!! if you have a request, feel free to do it in the little thingy on my page, this was so fun !! ALSO, if this isn’t what you were expecting or anything, I’ll write it again differently, no problem ☺️

background ~ you and your boyfriend had just started dating not long ago, and there were a lot of things in the relationship that were new to him. he hadn’t been in many relationships at all, so he isn’t sure on everything, for example, cuddling and affection. you show him how :)

warnings ~ none, just fluff and cutesy stuff, tad bit of angst too

I’m Montenegrin so please forgive me if my English is messed up !

you had been at home all day, just picking up and relaxing. it was a pretty chill day though. you’re boyfriend, Tom, was at the studio all day. At first it was just a couple days of the week for a few hours, but lately it had been everyday for the whole day. You could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was tired and more irritable. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you honestly felt really bad for him. When he would come home, he wouldn’t want anyone to bother him. After dating Tom for a week or two, you came to realize he was not an affectionate person. You thought that he just needed to warm up to you, but it had been almost a month. Besides kissing and sex, he rarely touched you. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so you tried to ignore it for the main part.

today was another long day for him. you weren’t living together yet, but he just slept over at your place all the time. you had made dinner for him tonight, not something you always did but you wanted to be nice. you were sitting on your bed, scrolling through random websites on your laptop when you heard the front door open and shut. Tom didn’t call out to you like he usually did. You knew today probably sucked for him. The fear of him rejecting you as he sometimes did made it hard for you to leave your room, but you did anyways.

You walked down the hallway to main room of the apartment to see Tom sitting on the couch, watching tv. He looked angry. The dinner you made him still sat on the table, untouched, and probably cold now.

“I made you dinner.”, you spoke softly. His eyes darted from the screen to yours. Tom looked so upset, almost as if he wanted to cry.

“I know. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”, he replied coldly.

You took a step closer to him, almost testing the waters.

“How was the studio?”

“Shit. It was shit. Do I need to pause this or…?”, he replied rather harshly, referring to the television.

“Tom…”, you trailed off, very quiet. He saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately hated himself for taking his anger out on you. He grabbed the remote and turned off the t.v.

“I’m sorry, I’m just in a bad mood. I’m really stressed and tired and I don’t know how to get rid of it, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”, Tom said, sounding genuine as ever.

“come here.”, you said, putting your hand out for him to take. You could tell he was very hesitant, but he took your hand and let you pull him up from the couch.

before he could argue or protest, you pulled him into a hug. you usually didn’t hug, but it felt like he needed it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and pushed the side of your face into his chest. At first, his arms were just outwards, unsure of where to go. When he became more aware and comfortable, and put his arms around your neck, hands on the side of your head as he placed his head on top on yours. you could feel him relax into the hug, and it made you so happy that you were finally able to do that for him.

“I’m sorry for being rude, today was just so so bad, and these long ass days are tiring me out.”, Tom said, his voice muffled into your head. He left a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Let me help.”, you pulled away, looking up at him.

“Help how?”

“Y’know, help you relax and stuff. Make you feel better.”

“I’m not really in the mood to fuc-“

“No, Tom, not that. Like just get into pajamas and I’ll rub your back and cuddle you, yea?”

“Uhh-“

“Please, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”

Maybe it was your pleading eyes, or the fact that he secretly wanted to be intimate with you in this sense, but it didn’t take a lot for him to give in.

“Okay.”

“Yea?”, you beamed. He couldn’t help but smile back before playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yea.”

“Okay, go get changed into something comfier.”

He nodded and grabbed some of his clothes from your room before heading to the bathroom.

You quickly went into your room and started trying to “set the mood”. You dimmed the lights as much as possible and lit a few candles. You grabbed a bunch of really soft blankets and some water too. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He wasn’t affectionate or that touchy with you, and you wanted him to be.

Tom walked into your room, looking around, admiring your dedication.

“Lay down.”, you instructed.

“So bossy.”, he jokingly muttered.

He laid down on your bed as you walked over.

“Lay on your stomach.”

He groaned but turned over onto his stomach.

You climbed up onto the bed, and then put one of your legs over him so you were straddling his lower back.

“what are you-“

“shhh just relax.”

your hands found their way under his shirt, making their way up to his upperback. You began to slowly massage circles into his back, feeling him instantly become less tense under you. You gradually added pressure in places that felt a little more stiff. You began to knead the knots out of his back too. There were a lot. No wonder the poor boy was so upset, his stress was causing him to get strained.

You went on massaging him for a bit more, and you could tell how calm he was getting.

you climbed off of his back and laid on your side next to him, facing him. His face was towards you and his eyes were shut, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“did you like that?”, you said softly. he opened his eyes narrowly and nodded.

“yes, thank you. you don’t even know how much I needed that. I’m so tired now.”, he murmured.

you opened up your arms. Tom watched you intently.

“c’mere”

“for what?”

“pleaseee don’t fight me on this one. I just wanna hold you.”

“what, like cuddling?”, he questioned, looking doubtful.

“yea… is that okay?”

“um… yea, yea it is. its just that… fuck, this is embarrassing.”, he rubbed his eyes, trying to hide his uneasiness.

“listen, all of the girls I’ve been with before, I never really did anything like that with them. usually we would just hook up and they would leave. what im trying to say I guess, is that I don’t really know how to cuddle or anything like that. I sound so stupid. its kinda just like hugging, right?”, he rambled.

at first, you couldn’t even say anything because you could believe that your beautiful, beautiful boyfriend had never been shown love and affection like that before. he so clearly deserved it, even though he had his moods, he was the sweetest thing. You felt bad for him. That was probably why he hadn’t shown or done anything like that for you before.

“I’ll show you how.”, you responded with a small but sweet smile. his eyes sorta lit up and he picked up his head from the pillow.

“show me how?”

“mhm, c’mere. don’t make me wait any longer, im tired too y’know.”, you teased him a little. Tom scoffed before scooting over to you, waiting for your instructions.

“put your head against my chest, under mine.”

he listened to you, putting the side of his face against your chest. You took his arm and wrapped it around your waist, and he quickly got the memo and snuck his other arm beneath you so that they were both wrapped around you. He pulled you closer, forcing you to smile. you entangled your legs with his.

you two were finally cuddling. you had wanted to for so long, but you didn’t know how to ask. you could feel Tom’s slow breath blow out against you as he got closer to falling asleep.

“thank you, baby.”, he sleepily mumbled.

“of course. I’m sorry your day wasn’t great.”

“it’s definitely better now. I wish we would’ve done this earlier.”

“I thought you didn’t really want me to touch you, or for you to touch me, in this way, I guess…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to but it was just unfamiliar to me and that kind of scared me, I didn’t want to do anything wrong and I’m not used to this kind of affection.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”, you said, gently stroking his hair. he breathed deeply, showing you how relaxed he was becoming.

“it’s okay, I have you now.”

You continued to play with his hair as he cuddled you, and you could tell just how peaceful he was. He ended up falling asleep pretty fast. You were so happy that he was able to unwind and open up with you. You reached over to the candle and blew it out. You flipped the light switch off and let yourself fall asleep in Tom’s arms.

a/n ~ awww this is very sweet to me😭 I love doing these cutesy little stories, they are my favorite to write. I’m in my home country right now so I’m sorry if my posts are very inconsistent or posted at a weird time, thank you for the request!! all of the comments are so sweet too, and they make me feel a lot less insecure about my writing. have a good day !!!💋😽

#tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #georg listing #gustav schäfer

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sunshine-on-marz · 9 months

Note

JEALOUS RANBOO AND WILBUR (seperate) x FEM!READER. ITS A NEEEEDDDDD.

Ok so I really hope I do this ask justice

(I added Tommy and Jschlatt bc they’re my sillies)

Wilbur〞

-He’s not a super jealous person person

-Lies^

-He’s more scared that someone will be better than him

-Which is dumb

-Because he’s so boyfriend

-So when an (admittedly handsome) guy starts flirting with you

-He’s quick to walk over and justly kiss the top of your head and introduce himself

- “I’m Wilbur, their boyfriend. Who are you?”

-His voice almost shakes but he pulls it together

-He needs lots of extra cuddles that nights

Ranboo〞

-This guy is another not jealous but just scared one

-They just want you to be happy

-But they’re really scared that it won’t be THEM making you happy

-So when you’re laughing and smiling with some guy he doesn’t know he suddenly gets quiet.

-Stops mid sentence with Aimsey

-Texts you a quick “can you come see?”

-You happily walk over and they kiss your cheek

-The guy you’d been talking too immediately walks off to some girl across the room when he sees you with who you’re clearly dating

-Then it all clicks to you so you’re glued to ranboo all night and everyone is happy

Tommy〞

-This dude doesn’t get scared he just gets sad

-Walks over and asks you “who’s this?” with the biggest puppy eyes and it breaks your heart

-“It’s just my friend Tom, [Friend] this is my boyfriend, Tommy, Tommy this is [friend]”

-Then he’s fine

-But he does stay next to you for the rest of the night

Jschlatt〞

-Ohhh this guy

-He’s more possessive if anything

-He trusts you more than he trusts himself

-He knows you wouldn’t cheat

-But he still doesn’t like his partner getting flirted with, because who does?

-So when someone from the staff at the creator party you’re at gets a bit to comfortable Schlatt is fast to step in

-“Hey toots, who’s he?”

-^Said in the worlds snarkiest voice

-Hands grabbing your hips and chin on your head as he smirks at the guy

-You, being oblivious to the man’s real intentions, smile and introduce the men to each other.

-Schlatt won’t lead you away from the guy, infact, he encourages you two to keep taking

-But he stays put right behind you

-Starring daggers at the man

-So the conversation ends rather quick

——————

I fear I may have gotten carried away at the end there

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pedge-page · 3 months

Text

Plushies 6 - MooMoo

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plushies Series Masterlist but Can be read as standalone

Summary: you surprise Joel for your 2 year anniversary by being the fuckable plushie tonight.

Warnings: literally 99.9% smut. Unprotected sex (she is on the pill but they’re playing with the idea of it failing), BREEDING KINK, pregnancy kink, plushie milk sucking (? You’ll see); nipple pumps, nipple play, nipple orgasm, boobjob, oral m-receiving, squirting, cream pie, belly bulge, no breastfeeding but Joel has a breastfeeding kink (obviously!), Daddy kink, spitting, bimbofication, lots of cow talk, praises you and degrades you, cringe ass language overall for these horny fucks

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It's getting pretty bad now that every time you see your pile of plushies in the room, your panties dampen. And you can’t really avoid them because Joel’s been adding to the mountain of stuffed animals with every excuse to get you a gift.

And then outright making you cum on them before he’s ripped the tag off.

You suspect Joel also gets equally as hard by them too, with all the interesting things he’s been sharing since starting your Plushie-sex journey. He’s pretty quiet and reserved any other time, even during regular sex. But when all your little beady stuffed animals start getting involved…

You’re startled by a gentle knock at the door. “You okay in there, sweet pea?”

“Mhm! I’m almost ready!”

You both just got back from a fabulous date—ready to seal the night with passionate sex. And you’ve planned the perfect 2 year anniversary gift for him.

You stare in the mirror in your new “outfit” to surprise Joel’s loins: naked, save for a spotted felt ear headband, a leather collar with a big golden bell dangling from your neck, knee high white and black spotted stockings, and a slutty garter body harness speckled in black splotches. The straps dip and curve over your hips with cute ribbons on the waist, snaking under your soft parts, accentuating your breasts, tummy, thighs, ass—everything that Joel finds bitable.

^photos + product by GlamourIsTheEndGame on Etsy

When you finally walk out into the bedroom with all the might your tiny little harness could muster, Joel’s eyes finally land on you. You smile at him with a sultry, pretty, and far from innocent smile.

"I was thinking maybe I could be your plushie for tonight,” you say, pushing your breasts out with your arms drawn tight, and shaking a little so he can see them sway and hear the jingle of the bell bounce over your collarbone.

Ok, so you know the scenes in Tom&Jerry where Tom sees a female cat, and his eyes bug out cartoonishly and jaw falls down to the ground?

Yeah, that’s Joel right now.

His jaw is so slacked it might unhinge itself. Eyes straining because they can’t go any fucking wider, and his pupils literally so blackened, you wouldn’t know he had baby brown eyes.

You’re standing there very expectedly, waiting.

Waiting.

… waiting.

Say something you kinky bastard, damnit NowILookLikeAFool—!

Your nerves are starting to curl in on themselves...maybe you don’t look as sexy as you’d hoped...

“Um…if… if you don’t like it—I mean if you wanted to pick up a stuffie instead…”

The man takes advantage of your brief embarrassment and jumps you, shoving you against the wall and caging your legs around his hips.

“Oh!”

You whimper as the unmistakable bulge of his package presses hungrily, slipping past the little string and nudging your wet clit.

He glues his lips to yours, devouring your tongue. It’s extra hungry, extra needy tonight than usual. His lips twitch with the rumbling growl reverberating deep in his chest.

“You’re so fucking sexy holy fucking shit baby-jesusssssss look at you— fuckfuckfuck I’m so lucky, luckylucky bastard—FUCK ME—you’re mine? You’re actually fucking mine????”

You giggle, confidence surging again as his hands struggling to grab every bit of you all at once. Holding you captive nonetheless, eyes raking over in wonder and astonishment.

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you hum sensually. You grab his hands and bring them to curl along your harness, under the straps to feel your skin all hot and tingly. Begging for his touch.

“Happy fucking Anniversary to me.”

Joel scoops you up and sits on the bed, immediately having you straddle him. You grind down on his tent poking up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your thighs when he feels the flutter of your folds.

He knows you feel as sexy as you look.

“Gonna be my cow slut tonight, huh? You know what good little cow sluts do?”

“Suck cock?” You ask cheekily, preparing to sink down to your knees to pleasure him with your mouth.

He lets out a happy sigh. You’re ready to move, your teeth sucking in your lower lip, but he stops you, instead choosing to pin you closer to his body. His voice drops an octave:

“They birth and they milk.”

They—what? “Um—come again?”

“Breeding, baby. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”

He knows you’re on the pill, so it’s not like you’re really trying to get pregnant…but the thought of getting knocked up tonight sends a particularly dangerous chill down your spine. He never uses a condom so the chances are still….there. Every night. Each time he blows his fat load deep inside you; like a good little cumdump, he says.

Why not indulge his fantasy tonight?

“You wanna breed me, Daddy?” You tease, hips swaying along his clothed member, dancing along your slit.

“Mmmm, yeahhh. Shit, baby. You’d look so good pregnant. And these—“ he grits his teeth, fingers pinching the straps that circle your mounds, watching them squish together, “—Are gonna fill up with so much milk, gonna feed me with your delicious cunt and sweet milk 24/7.”

You want to slap the smug look off his face, but now’s not the time. It’s time to get those pouty lips on your breasts and the cock in your cunny.

“Better start getting them open so I can satisfy that big thirst of yours.”

On cue, his lips wrap around your nipples, kneading your tits in his big rough hands. You start bouncing steadily along his cock. He’s domineering and digging into your skin harshly, teeth overly excited and sinking into your pebbled nips while he grinds up against your heat.

He’s biting and sucking so hard, asking-PLEADING-for your milk.

Milk that is definitely not there!

"Ouch! Joel I'm not going to give you milk, we’re just—playing—I’m not actually pregnant!"

But the THOUGHT of you exactly like this but stuffed full of a baby, just imagining your tits all round and belly bursting, the garter harness pulling tight against your skin and your tits poking out with that big heavy swell of your tummy making you look like his own breeding stock.

Desperate whines rush out of his mouth in a string of babbling: “I can get ya pregnant, please? Pleasepleaseplease darling let me put a baby in you— breed ya so good, just look at ya, could get ya knocked up, just think how cute you'd look gettin' all round with my calves grown in that tumtum. Fuck! what a sight, showing off to everyone our hard work breeding, evidence of our love making, and these titties would just swell n get all heavy with all the creamy delicious milk ya could give me like the best momma n—“

Your palm splats against his mouth to shut him up. “Slow down, cowboy. We aren’t having a real baby any time soon. We don't even live together yet..."

"Then move in with me,” he proposes without hesitation.

You …blink for a moment. His mouth hovers over your breast again but you drag him up to look you in the eyes—so you know he's not just fucking around.

“Really?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do we still have separate homes? I'm here all the time anyway. Plus, takin' care of all those plushie pets must be exhausting on your own, they're partially my kids anyway so.”

"You really want to live together?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do.”

You and Joel were a ‘take it one day at a time’ trusting kind of love, but right now as you stare into his heart-shaped eyes, you can see your whole future together. The kind of earth shattering reality that’s never been more clear and more desirable than this moment.

“I—“

“Don’t gotta give me an answer right now. Wanna ask ya again when we’re—less horny. So you know I’m bein’ serious.”

You grin and kiss him.

“Show me a good anniversary night and I’ll give a good thought-over.”

“Oh babygirl,” he tuts. “Think you were gonna be the only one showin’ me a good time? I got ya something too, sweetheart. Gonna go perfect with ya cow slut theme ya got goin’ on.”

You don’t know what he could possibly have that could “match” your very specific cow themed sex outfit—

Unless its more cows.

So when he sits you on the bed, stumbling over his shoes because he can’t take his eyes off you, Joel equally surprises you with a box of cow themed gifts—little calf beanie babies, which are conveniently jerry-rigged to two separate nipple pumps with their little snouts pointing towards the suction cups, and a cow plush toy that has a compartment in the top to pour milk in, complete with rubber “practice” utters for farmer kids to learn milking.

“I swear, I had no idea you were gonna be dressed as slutty cow momma for me. I just—saw this shit online and thought my girl needed to be drinking some cow titties when I fuck her swollen cow tits.”

“We’re so in sync,” you muse, shaking your head with an amused smirk.

Its honestly should be... kinda concerning.

He sits back next to you on the mattress, shoving some of your animals off the edge. You instinctively crawl atop his thighs again, and his hands settle once more protectively around your waist. You stare down at him, his sinful lips practically begging to get sucked while that lidded lustful gaze lulls you in a trance. The Joel Miller spell is wordlessly working on you again—and you know you’re gonna be cracking and doing anything this man says within a few shorts minutes.

You beam at each other tenderly, unable to help the genuine happy crinkle at your lips as you kiss him softly.

Then it starts:

"Can ya moo for me?"

You roll your eyes. Not quite doing anything he says so soon. “Fuck no I'm not doin that shit again for you. You want a farm, go get one yourself."

"Please Angel?" He plants wet kisses along your jaw before giving two fat ones on top of your breasts.

"Still no."

He groans, but continues to nip at your breasts like a scolded child. "Can I fuck your big mommy milkin' cow titties?”

“There is no milk!” You snap. You’re ready to throw the whole idea away, but his persistent hold around your waist and cock nudging your throbbing puss is making it difficult to resist him for long.

His big brown chocolate lab eyes bleed into your horny little soul. “C’mon, MooMoo, for Daddy?”

“I am NOT your MooMoo—“

He jingles the bell dangling from your neck. “Ya’sure sound like my MooMoo.”

you clench your fist around his shirt and take a deep breath. "Fine, Fine! Whatever."

"Say it."

"You can—ugh—fuck my big... mommy milking cow titties." You face feels so hot with embarrassment, but Joel purrs with such satisfaction that you feel even WORSE how much you don't hate it.

Since when did the double entendre of being called his "kitty" and "puppy" when Joel fucks you and your animal themed plushies become his "moo moo girl"?

He grins with such a dirty, perverted look about him. Continues to kiss over your mounds, massaging the muscles in your back so you don’t notice when he bends over you to grab his homemade breast pumps.

He looks at you sideways with expectant hope in his eyes.

You roll your eyes again. Of course he can’t just get a normal titjob and blow his load in your mouth. There’s always some fucking thing else you gotta do. But with the way his cock pulses under your drooping pussy, you decisively snatch it from his hands and get to work just so that he’ll call you his slutty cow again.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, rubbing along your hips excitedly. He holds them in your hand and exhales hot air over the cups so they aren’t cold against your skin.

The clear tubes are narrow, obviously meant to resemble that of utters rather than actually breastfeeding from a bottle. You stick them on each tit, and very quickly Joel is pumping the little hand squeeze that starts to suction the small space of air into the connecting wire.

You gasp at the sensation. Slowing latching on, the small of your breasts are pointing inward towards the pumps, sticking up on their own now as Joel continues to suck the air out.

You hiss a strangled moan. The sensation isn’t—bad. It’s like an invisible hand is dry vacuuming your pebbles.

“Fuck—fuck look at that,” he growls. “Your nipples are sooooooooooo fucking suckable right now.”

You look down and see their hardened state reaching out into nothing. As more of your flesh and tissue gets sucked in, pressing tightly, trying to fill the small space, the pain mixes with pleasure. Joel’s continually nipping at your chest with lidded eyes glued to the scene helps spread the multiple sensations your body is feeling.

“There’s not gonna be any milk,” you warn again, shifting uncomfortably in his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to a particularly suffocating phase of tightness in your breast.

He casts a sorrowful grin before yanking the pumps off together with a loud SCHMOP.

You screech unexpectedly, rolls of pleasure sparking through your chest, up to your brain then right down to your tummy and cunt, your eyes rolling back as you collapse forward on to him.

You’re both quiet for a moment save for your heavy pants. Until you feel a wetness growing on his pants.

“Joel—did you—?”

He laughs out, “No baby, that was all you.”

Your cheeks go warm in embarrassment, looking down to confirm that you had actually squirted onto his jeans just from getting your nipples suctioned.

“Didn’t know ya titties were so sensitive…” he goads.

You shake your head and nudge it into his neck—because you didn’t know you could squirt just from getting your breasts suctioned either.

“Shhh, I know. I know baby, just breathe. Little titties are so sore, but we gotta get them ready to start feeding from. S’not my fault you’re just a little slut, so hungry to be a momma—don’t you worry, Daddy Bull is gonna make it happen. Ya can squirt your little juices all you want when I breed your cunt like my own personal livestock.”

You have half the mind to tell him again there is no baby to be feeding any time soon, and you sure as heck weren’t his livestock to be bred, and had nothing to say about "Daddy Bull", but with the harsh throbbing along your nipples, dragging sensitively against his cotton shirt, you don’t care to do anything else but drool and hump your weeping clit against his soaked thighs.

“Let Daddy see his work,” he mumbles into your throat with a kiss.

You sit up again with his assistance.

He groans heartily at the sight of your swollen, redden tips poking from your boobs. “Jesus fuck, MooMoo.” He rubs his thumb over your mounds and you wince away. “They hurt?” He laugh sadistically.

You cover your lips with the back of your palm, unwilling to let him see your delirious heaving. Your pussy throbs desperately for more his unique torture. “You….bastard…”

He soothes over the swollenness, groping your breasts and telling you how they’ll be sore like this all the time when they start filling with milk. How he’s gonna breed you so full of calves you’ll be bursting milk on your own, and he’s gonna lap it all up to keep you happy.

You don’t know why you keep letting him put the pumps back on. He doesn’t try to rip them off like before, but keeps bringing you close with tight compresses before letting air quickly filter in again. The little cow beanies bob up and down with each deep breath you force through your nose, eyes glittering up so innocently. You’re trying to ignore the equal throb in your untouched clit as the ones in your overstimulated perky nips.

Once they’ve swelled to a level of his satisfaction…

“MooMoo…”

“Huh…”

“Time for cow titty fucking.”

He throws you down on your back in the heap of your plushies. Wasting no time pulling his stiff member out of his jeans, he pumps a few times with one hand. Like a professional Joel wraps his belt tightly around your wrists, like a cowboy expertly tying his prize calf he just lassoed in.

You twist your legs to hide the leaking drip of slick sliding down to your ass. Your head leans to the side, arms thrown behind you so you can see him, biting your lips and furrowed brows of want, admiring his physique when he pulls his shirt off with a satisfied grin.

“Fuck me, cowboy,” you hum, shifting your bum up and spreading your legs so he can see your swollen slit twitching up at him.

But he throws your legs down and cages you under him. “I’m makin’ a mess of those god damn Mommy milkers first. Then your cunt gets whatever Daddy Bull has left.”

DaddyBullDaddyBullDaddyBull, you chant in over and over again your dumb little cow brain...

Oh Christ, tonight’s gonna be wild.

You watch him crawl over your body, fisting his leaking member over your chest. You want it, licking your lips in anticipation, pushing your boobs together with your arms to entice him. He twists the bell-collar so its dangling off the side of your shoulder before placing his leaking tip right at your lips, smearing his precum. Moaning at that fucking taste of Joel you’d been craving all day. You lap at the saltiness, begging him to force it deep into your mouth, but all he does is rub it over your lips, your tongue peaking out to get it nice and wet for him.

His cock falls right in the valley as you smoother it with your supple breasts. “Soft titties all mine to play with? You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck them?”

He starts thrusting, suffocating his cock between your tits. With one hand, he’s pulling the harness roped around your body tight like he's riding a God damn horse, the other still possessively pumping the nipple suction cups so they squeeze harder around your precious tits. His balls rub along your sternum while he bounces his hips, rocking back and forth again and again, making a sticky mess of his arousal and your drool all over your chest.

"Angel, imagine how fucking good this is gonna feel when these pups are filled to the brim with Daddy's milk.”

You nod dumbly. “Want you to fill them, Daddy. Want you inside,” you moan. Your head leans forward as you try to suck in his tip each time it poked through your boobs.

Joel lets out a shaky breath, trying hard not to blow his load too soon. Though the sight of your face and cowbell all sticky with his creamy spent has him drawing away quickly, a firm grip wrapped around the base to hold his twitching balls from releasing his seed just yet.

You cry out, tongue chasing his retreating tip.

“You ready to be my little cocksleeve plushie tonight?” He asks, raking his nails over your chest and belly, raised red trails marking you in their leave.

“I’m ready Daddy, fuck me like your dirty whore!”

He spits a fat gob of saliva right on to your slit before rubbing it over with his thick tip. You don’t need the extra lubrication due to how drenched you are, and the sweet squirting you did earlier, but oh how he admires the way it mingles with your juices and slides down your ass.

He rips the cow patterned garter ribbon from the waist buckle and wraps it around your calves, sticking your legs straight, and pulls your ankles taught. You’re completely tied off at his mercy, like cattle being tamed. He hoists your legs straight up in the air, his bare cock grinding against your wet heat.

"D-daddy!"

He leans your straight legs against his left shoulder and peers down over you: messy lipstick, bound wrists pulled together and straight to your stomach, pushing your tits even closer, and the harness does nothing but give each one an immaculate show of perkiness. Paired with the tight press that the pumps are still holding your nipples captive.

He decides to show you some mercy by removing the tubes. He kneads their swollen state at the same time his cock rubs along your slick folds.

“T’Thank you, Daddy Bull,” you puff.

“Good girl. Didn’t even have to remind you,” he praises with gentle strokes of your cheeks. “Your little calf babies are full now. Time for DaddyBull to spend time with Momma.”

You hope he doesn’t see the way your stomach clenches at being called Momma—a kink you’re shelving for much much later.

He’s got such stamina to be still gliding himself along your pussy but not penetrating just yet. Your brows are scrunched together in a plea and desperation, and those little cow ears are flopped back into the mess of softness. Softness that surrounds you, that innocent feel of cute plushy fur and cotton all rubbing against your body below you despite the numbing throb in your breasts and cunt.

He puts his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits, getting them wet before he’s drooping them down your puffy lips, down your breasts each with a squeeze, trailing warmly over your belly before coming to the place where he’s about to impale you.

Your entire body is thrumming with need.

He takes the moment to see how wrecked you already are for him—and to savor your body, knowing he’s gonna breed you so good one day and everything is gonna swell, like a stamp of ownership.

“You’re so fucking breedable,” he whispers in awe of your body. You don’t think he meant to say it out loud, but it turns you on all the more to hear his inner thoughts that would most likely scare away other women.

Not you though. You shutter at the thought of it taking, of making something evident of all the fucking and cum dumping he’s been giving you.

The pornographic gasp you let out as he slides his cock over your folds, between your squished thighs. Your slick lathering his length, prepping him and teasing your clit with long strokes. You whine as his mushroom tip glistens with precum, poking through your thighs then retreating. Getting your hopes up and holding it there sadistically.

"Don't gotta do nothin' tonight for me, sweet pea. Just gotta hold on for the ride."

You're not ready when he latches at your entrance and thrusts in all at once. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he fills your gut with his fat cock, stretching you in the best way only Joel Miller knows.

“Ahhh--ah!—f—f—fuuuccccckkkkkkkk!”

Joel Miller does have a Bull sized cock. More evident now stretching your little hole than you’d ever truly thought before.

The position is so restraining, leaving you no way to move or adjust - just take take take take his pounding. You both groan at the sight of his tip ballooning in your lower belly with each thrust.

He throws his arm over your straight thighs and thumbs over your swelled naval. "Fuuucccckk look at that, look at that!"

"S-ssoooooo deeeeeeppp," you wreathe, lips curling in delirium.

“Yeah-yeah babygirl, gotta stretch you—get ya ready to hold my calves huh? Gotta make room for them to pop out—“

“M—mnot—pregnant,” you rasp hoarsely, eyes closing when he starts angling his hips up and rutting along the gummy part in your cunt.

“I’ll make it happen, don’t you worry your little brain.” He laughs. “You like getting stuffed like your stuffies. Turned you into a proper fuck toy—mm—there we go—but you’re always gonna be my favorite toy to hump, to fill, to own." He forces each word out with each rut. “You’re so fucking good at being a soft whore for me to use, all precious and pretty on the outside. Just another one of these plushie sluts on this bed,” he grunts.

You stick your tongue out dreamily and smile, fingers getting lost in the scattered stuffed animals surrounding you with their soft, fluffy textures and hard or squishy bodies.

It feels really good to have 0 thoughts and just get fucked like a cow plushie.

He kisses your ankles soothingly, almost pathetically attempting to distract you from the sudden lash of his palm slapping against your ass.

“DADDY—shit!” You whimper. He doesn’t love the way you instinctively try to squirm away from him, but with how tied up you are, continually impaled on his throbbing length, you have nowhere to go.

He continues to spank you, the same spot, fingers splayed wide until his reddened print is left etched into your skin "Gotta brand ya baby, make sure everyone knows who owns this body.”

Lewd noises of wet skin slapping, and the little cow bell clanking on your neck fill the room along with your pathetic whimpers and Joel's repressed grunts.

"Yeah? You like daddy's bull cock ramming that tight little Moo Moo pussy?"

“Yea- ohh-f—fuck yes Bull Daddy, cock so good, fuck— nobody stretches me—ah shit!Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes—m’gonna be bred so fucking full Daddy fuck yes!”

“My little cow breedin’ bitch,” he hollers. He tears the cute little cow patterned bow from that had held your calves together and quickly parts your legs, shoving your knees up to his shoulders so you’re in full mating press. He continues thrusting aggressively downward. Despite still being bound by the wrist, your elbows part slightly enough to slot him between your arms, slinking your hands over his neck to bring him closer to you.

"Breed me!" You cry, literally cry. He doesn’t relent his rough thrusts despite cooing your tears welling.

"Gonna take all that bull cum in your slutty womb? Gonna let me put a baby in ya?”

Your walls clench down on him harder in response. The more his thick tip nudges your cervix, the less words you’re able to string together in sentences.

He doesn’t wait for answer—doesn’t think he ever will because he’s dangerously dreamt of impregnating you for so long now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop the day you said yes. Never bringing it up but fuuuccckkk he can’t stop his confessions from tumbling out: “Shit baby, might take this time. Lookin like my breeding stock n shit, gonna plow ya, you'll milk my cummies in your tummies and then—"

"Jesus Joel stop your yapping and FUCKME.”

"Ya gonna moo for me?"

You're moaning more, but with the way your sockets are rolled to their whites, arching up like the exorcist as he rams himself so deep its puncturing your belly, the sound’s eliciting from your mouth coming out as "mmmmmaaaauuuuhhhhhau-huh-hhuhh-huhhhh!"

He chuckles. "Close enough.”

He grabs the moo plush and shoves its utters in your mouth. You tilt your head to the side and your tongue circles around the rubber part. He almost busts his nut at the gorgeous sight below him: your pretty lashes closed as you suckle from the utters, each little swallow of milk going sown your throat. You're so delirious and cock drunk that you don't care about the trickles of cream dribbling down the corner of your lips. Your tits swollen and red, nipples so perked up they may actually start bleeding milk if he were to play with them any more, and your breasts bounce back and forth with each thrust, the jingle of the cow bell clanking loudly with no sense of tune but with all the hymns of his fucking he can give you. He snaps the garter belt strapped around you like reins, free ruling restraints that only make every bit of you even more voluptuous. Your legs are so strong, thick yet securely plastered together by his knot.

Your brows pinch together as your orgasm builds from your belly, making you arch violently against the pillow.

You pull away from the cow to take a gasp of air. Joel sticks his finger in your mouth and swirls it around. You hum in content, letting him make a mess of your drool and leftover milk spilling out, down your chin and cheeks with his thick digits. He yanks it out and licks it clean.

"Taste so fucking goo—“

"Keep fucking me with Daddys Bull cock fuck daddy I wanna get bred so fucking much wanna be your breeding little cum slut daddy fuck yes! You're so fucking huge, splitting my little moomoo pussy in half poundbreedbreedbreed daddy want all your cummies inside!"

"Fucked ya so dumb. All that ‘no baby, no milky talk.’ Shit! Fuck I'm gonna wreck this pussy, my fucking pussy! Nobody comes inside this sweet little womb but Daddy!"

"Just you just you daddy all yours please brand me make me yours! Oh-oh fuck Daddy yes! I’m cumming , I’m cumming so hard Daddy Bull fuck yesyesysssssyesyesyes!!!” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your mouth parts as a silent scream is let out into the air. Joel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his pained gasps while trying to remain sane with your convulsing walls choking his cock, sucking him in so tight he wouldn’t be able to pull out if he pried himself from you. He reaches between you to rub your clit, and your head thrashes about in overstimulation. Hard teeth latch on to your collar bone as you squirt once again all over his cock, streaming to his balls and soaking the bed and poor plushies caught in the crossfire with your naughty juices.

“There’s my slutty girl! Squirt that puss everywhere, want to stain everything with that cunt, my pretty cow girl.”

Joel’s whole body ruts into you like his life depends on it. The bed lurches violently against the wall, plushies falling over the sides like an avalanche while your battered soaked pussy takes the beating of a lifetime from the man who undoubtedly has ruined you and laid claim to your soul for the rest of your life. You hold on with the little strength you have left as he readies to empty his balls into you.

“Shit—shit—oh ff-ffuck baby—Daddy Bull is cummin—gonna breed ya SHIT oh baby,baby,babbyyyy gonna flood ya, you’re gonna take it? Gonna take all that cum—not a drop—haa-left—Gonna knock you up this time-mmmf—fuck! My good cow sluuutt—Baby give it ta me so good, Breed ya full o’me!FUCK!!”

With a final slam, Joel plunges his cock balls deep and shouts into the mattress, pumping his cum as deep into your womb as it could possibly go with thick, fertile ropes flooding every inch of space inside you.

He forces out each harsh, agitated pant into your neck, sweat sticking between the two of you. Your hips are held upright, walls fluttering with each pulse of his dick still unloading inside.

“I love you,” you whisperinto his ear, mind all hazy as you stroke his damp curls. He shudders, relaxing into your embrace, and you welcome the crushing sensation of his body on top of yours.

He pulls away to admire your barely conscious state: stockings all torn up, harness now tattered and straps broken from their belts, the cow-eared headband snapped in half. Bruises and purple markings and love bites scattered all over your skin, your breasts the most damaged and swollen. He wonders how long it will take to fully heal, and how sensitive those little nipples are going to be for the next few days. Most importantly, he can’t tear his gaze away from the beat of your pussy lips struggling to swallow all of his creamy seed.

You gasp out when Joel pushes his cock all the way back in, his cum spilling out the sides and coating you but trapping a good amount inside, leaving it nowhere else to go.

“I Love being your cow MooMoo plushplush,” you hum, wiggling your bum and holding him close.

“How bout this one still?” He grabs the forgotten milker toy and brings the utters between the two of your lips.

Your tongue wraps around one utter and you start suckling the sweetness.

Joel yanks the toy away.

“Show me.”

You open your lips so he can see the pool of milk filled to the brim, spilling over the dips of your cheeks.

He dips his tongue into your mouth and begins sucking out your split-mixed milk, kissing you passionately so you’re both gulping around each other’s tongues.

Drunk. You feel drunk off him. Off the milk.

Eventually he pulls away so you can both breathe.

“I mean it.”

You draw away momentarily, wondering. it takes a moment to process anything that the two of you talked about while his cock still twitches in your cum-filled vagina.

You laugh when it hits you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you—“

“—You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful when you’re pregnant.”

You both pause for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh, I already knew that,” you taunt.

After you sleep for 14 hours straight, you wake up to find your tattered costume is gone, and your body completely naked. You don’t feel as achy as you expected—thanks to Joel probably massaging you in your sleep. Your cunt and breasts, however, are puffy and bruised as hell. You’ll have to restrict sexy time from Joel to just regular, Plushie-free fucking.

Speaking of, there’s an unfamiliar little guy on your bed right under your arm right now: yet another cow plushie, but it’s sooooo much softer, a bit heavier too. You turn it over and switch the little battery pack on, and the animal begins expanding and deflating with gentle breaths, its tummy warm and comforting against your body.

Joel comes in with a cup of tea placed on your bedside before jumping on the Plushie bed. You poke his face.

“Whaaaat!”

"Joel, you know this is for babies,” you say, gesturing to the new cow breathing cow plush.

Right my babygirl.” He smiles proudly, stroking your face.

"No, like actual babies. It’s a breathing soother to help them sleep. Did you not notice what section you were in when you bought it?”

He looks ahead at the wall for a briefly, revisiting the memory. “Ya know what, that might be why the lady asked if it was for a girl, and I said ya my girl. N’ then she asked 'how old' and I told her ya age and she gave me a weird look.”

Your eyes squeeze tight as you fall back in a fit of cackles. “You were literally in the baby section Joel."

"Ain't all these plushies for kids anyway?” He gestures to the pink, purple, frilly, soft, funny faced squish stuffed animals you have on your bed. “What’s the difference?”

You switch the heavy cow animal on again and the cow starts slowly inflating then deflating with each breath.

He gets all amazed like the marvels of today's technology far exceed his imagination. “Holy shit it got a real heart in there! No wonder it cost me 60 bucks.”

“Pretty sure a real heart would cost more than 60.”

“Mmm, cost me even more to keep yours.”

You glance over at Tomm—ahem, Teddy—sitting upright in the corner of the room, the dildo still strapped around his crotch, and at Mr. Oinkers who’s jittery fun was sometimes too much to handle, and at Valentine Puppy that has a permanent white streak in his hair when you tried washing out Joel’s cum, and at every other plush on this bed that has occupied an ever growing space in Joel’s horny head below the waist.

“I don’t love you just cuz of the plushies, you know.”

“Oh? I’ll take them all back then, since ya don’t appreciate—“

“No!” You cry desperately. “I—I love them.” You cold your cow plush close and kiss his head.

Joel curls up next to you and spoons your body. “But I love you too. Just you.”

He hums in agreement. “I know you do. Who else would dress like that just for fun?”

You cringe at the image of the destroyed cow garter that sits helplessly on the floor. Definitely cost waaaaaay more than $60.

“I can’t wait to move in,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Oh—about that.”

You lean back and meet his gaze. Was it a farce? Did he not actually want you to move in? Was it jut to get you excited for sex last night? You already feel your heart shattering, knowing its gonna take more than 60 bucks to put it back together—

“While you were sleeping…I brought all my shit here already. Cancelled my lease this month and packed for weeks. Figured it be easier than making you have to pack all your little fluffy bitches in boxes—”

“Well they wouldn’t go in boxes, they’d be buckled up in seatbelts.”

“Exactly my point. Would have been a nightmare trying to move you.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Um… what if I said no?”

“Oh…” the thought never actually crossed his mind that you’d say no.

You laugh again, kissing his jaw reassuringly. “Kidding, Bull Daddy.”

He grumbles into your back and kisses the back of your head. His big meaty paws rub over your thighs, the little dents from the strap still ghosting your skin, trailing up over your belly that he can’t wait to see swell one day, even if not any time soon, and snaking up to your aching chest—

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking tits.”

10 minutes later, you catch Joel’s cuddling the breathing cow right next to his face, snoring soundly as it exhales next to him. you kiss the tip of his noses and burrow yourself closer to your sleeping giant.

It really does help babies sleep.

- - - -

Notes: this ended up being waaaaaaay longer than I thought holy heck.

Bonus of Joel x Preggo reader thot in the plushies saga

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

#plushies!joel #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #last of us fic

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kisses4kaia · 9 months

Text

in my feelings - tommy shelby

summary; you hate tommy shelby. tommy shelby hates you. from the way he walks to the way he talks, you hate him. and from the same things, he hates you, too. infinitely. imagine your dread when you are put in a position where you are forced to gain thomas’ help.

warnings; smut, angst, enemies to lovers, angry sex, rough sex, piv, and all around dirty fucking filthhhh, oh yeah and a shit tom of cursing☺️

a/n; angsty enemy’s to lovers with tommy shelby?? me thinks yes

PART TWO OUT NOW -

as your father tells you that he has to sell the farm you grew up on, the soil that held so many memories, the land that raised you to be the woman you are today, your heart broke into a million pieces.

because, see, without the land, there would be no places for your horses or other beloved animals to go, meaning you would have to sell them, too.

when the tears began taking a seemingly permanent residency in your eyes, he pulls you into a hug. “no, no, there has to be another way!”

and as the tears stained your fathers coat, he spoke. “there is one thing,”

and that is exactly how you got here. sat across from your mortal enemy since your schoolgirl days, tommy shelby, in his office.

he had that stupid, smug, annoyingly hot, smirk on his face.

“so, you’re telling me, that you need to marry me,” he practically laughed in your face.

“i don’t need to marry you, the farm does. if we get married, then a portion of your income goes to my family. and then, after saving enough, if everything goes right, we can get divorced and we never have to speak again.” you explained.

he nodded. “okay. say i do accept this outrageous proposal, what’s in it for me?”

you figured he may ask that. “my late mothers brother is the chief of police in birmingham. i can make a few calls, get them on your payroll, only without the pay.”

“but i am paying, aren’t i?” he furrowed his eyebrows and nodded once, making a statement more than a question.

he’s a smart man, so you figured he may say that, too. and here came the most humiliating part.

with a sigh, you spoke. “as my husband, you can… have me whenever you want,” you memorized what you were going to say earlier when it came to this, and only spoke from that script.

your voice was low, static, the humiliation of having any emotion in your voice would be too unbearable.

you honestly couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth and apparently, neither could tommy.

you weren’t so bothered by the prospect of fucking thomas, as much as you hated to admit it. it was just knowing that he would definitely hold it over you to the worlds end.

“you’re so desperate to save this farm, that you would let me fuck you whenever i want, however i want? if i pay you? you do realize that’s the definition of whoring?” he was genuinely amused at your proposition.

you scoffed, in disbelief kf his immaturity. “yes, i do realize, thomas. and yes, i really am desperate,”

he seemed to be in thought for a moment before speaking. “and what makes you think i want to fuck you? you’re really so narcissistic?”

you genuinely laughed at this. “you’re one to talk about narcissistic. and you’ll fuck just about anything that moves, i can’t imagine i’d be much of an exception,”

thomas chuckled lowly at this, his face seemingly challenging you. you wouldn’t let yourself be bullied, so you straightened your posture and finally asked. “so?” your voice was flat, almost disinterested.

he stared at your face for a few moments, like he was trying to break past your stoned demeanor.

“alright. we have a deal.” he confirmed. you nodded, fighting back happy tears.

as he held his hand out to shake, you glanced at it once with a silent decline.

“what, you’re ok with letting me fuck you like a whore whenever i want but you don’t want to shake my hand?” he stood, and because you wouldn’t let him have power over you- ironically enough- you stood, too.

“i didn’t realize you were so sensitive, shelby,” you spoke up.

“and i didn’t realize you were so headstrong, shelby,” he enunciated the last word, letting the epiphany set in for you.

oh god, you were going to be a shelby. for at least a few months, you were going to be a shelby.

you tried to make peace with the fact, but the it was just gnawing at you that all of this was plain unfair.

nonetheless, you shook his hand.

—

“what’s she doing here?” arthur’s thick accent sounded throughout the room.

tommy decided it’d be best for you to be there when he informed his family of the arrangement.

“well, brother. that is because she is my soon-to-be wife,” he cut straight to the chase and your eyes widened at his directness

polly nearly spat out her tea, john bursted out laughing, and the whole room was generally in an uproar.

ada, too, was puzzled, but quickly sedated the energy in the room with a loud “shut the fuck up and listen to the man!”

you were sat on a chair next to thomas’ standing body, not speaking.

“you two are getting married? you two? has hell frozen over? can pigs now fly?” john joked, but was serious in his disbelief. and he was right to. it wasn’t a secret that…

it all started in year nine. tommy was a 10th year and obnoxiously ‘cool’. he would hang out with the secondary school boys, sleep with their sisters, and torture anyone who’d let him, and most people did.

he was smart, but so were you, and you would not let him.

you were the only 9th year at the top of a predominantly year 10 class, tommy being a close second.

see, the shelby boy wasn’t used to anybody being better than him in any sense, but you made him get used to it.

he couldn’t stand you. from your way-too-short plaid skirts, to the way your hand would shoot up at every question asked.

he hated how he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you in class when you had your hair tied up in a pretty ponytail, gnawing on the eraser of your pencil, your eyebrows twisting in confusion when you couldn’t figure out an answer on a test.

just looking so innocent.

and most of all, he hated the nights he spent with his hand wrapped around his aching cock, whispering your name to himself like a prayer until he came hot strings of cum all over his heavy chest.

tommy rolled his eyes at his family’s immaturity. “it’s an arrangement. she needs money, and her uncle is the chief of police. we can take the coppers off our payroll,”

he left out a small detail but you weren’t complaining.

“after a few months, we’ll get a divorce and we can forget we ever crossed paths.” you spoke for the first time in the meeting.

the transaction seemed simple enough to most people in the room, and they all seemed to accept it.

“anyone have a problem with it? speak now or forever hold your peace,” he called out to the room, waiting for a potential objection.

and one never came. “alright, family meeting adjourned,” tommy waved everyone out of the room.

—

the weeks leading up to the wedding felt like they went on forever.

polly dragged you by your wrist to what seemed like a million different modistes and boutiques, dress shops and spas.

it was exhausting, but in bad there is good.

ada became your closest friend. she was the only person who knew about the other condition to you and tommy’s matrimony.

you were friends even as schoolgirls, despite you and thomas’ disdain for each other.

and now she was your best friend, and you felt inclined to make her your maid of honor.

the hours before the wedding were the worst of it. at least six women were in the room at all time, scrutinizing you to the moon and to saturn. they studied and judged every crevice and line on your face and body.

after being poked and prodded at for forever, it was finally time to walk down the aisle and see your soon-to-be husband.

you were in an over the top, yet elegant gown, the purest color of white you’d ever seen, with a sheer veil covering your face.

you did look quite beautiful, you thought as you looked in the mirror. but you couldn’t help but begin to cry.

you cried because you thought the day you’d see yourself in white would be under much different circumstances. you wanted to marry someone you loved, and for that someone to love you, too. and lord knows, thomas shelby did not love you.

even despite your own feelings for him.

ada came up from behind you in the floor mirror and rested her head upon your shoulder. “you look beautiful,” she spoke, noticing, yet disregarding your tears.

“thank you,” you sniffled. “it will all be okay. i spoke to tommy, he’ll treat you well, i promise,”

her words provided some much needed console to you. “thank you, addy. i wouldn’t have made it had you not been with me. thank you, and love you,” you turned to look at her face.

she just smiled and hugged you. “in less than an hour, we’ll officially be sisters. that should prove some motivation to get your ass down that aisle!” she exclaimed, already tugging on your arm to leave the room and enter the chapel.

you laughed and allowed her to pull you away, long since forgotten your woe.

—

“with the power invested in me, i now pronounce you man and wife. you may now kiss the bride!” the priest announced, signaling for you and tommy to get off of your knees and kiss.

as you both rose to your feet, thomas brought his face to yours in a seemingly disinterested kiss, it almost seemed practiced.

it caught you off guard, and caused a deep sadness in your belly, but you shut it down as ada, polly, esme, and all of the female shelby’s came to congratulate you.

you and your new husband were dragged outside to the car, destined for tommy’s estate, where festivities would begin.

the drive was short, and your patience was thinning, as you just wanted this all to be over.

you knew you were in for a long night as people began flooding into your new home.

and like every shelby-hosted event ever, an all-out rager-like party commenced.

thomas would not speak to you. unless, of course, somebody who was none the wiser to your contract would mention how in-love the two of you seemed. then he could not stop smiling at you, holding your waist tight, even sometimes kissing you.

you had never wanted to die more.

you must have drunk atleast eight glasses of champagne by the end of the night, just trying to get through it.

and that is how you spent the rest of the evening. you got through the first dance, you got through the kind old women talking about what an attractive couple you both made, and you got through seeing tommy flirt with other women at his own fucking wedding.

and at last, it finally came time for the party to end. you practically shoved people out of your door, ready to sleep in your no-doubtedly own bedroom.

you knew it was an arrangement, it was a tale as old as time, and yet you still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. nothing went the way you wanted, nothing. and at the end, all you had to show for it was a farm. it was actually kind of hilarious.

a maid hurriedly showed you where you’d be sleeping, and as you walked into the room, you realized it was indeed thomas’, with the way papers were stern all over the desk and the whiskey on the tray beside the bed.

she was gone before you could turn and ask any questions.

you groaned and sat down on the settee across the room from the bed, your dress making it impossible to see your feet as you tried to remove your heels.

your hair was next, pulling the many pins out of the intricate hairstyle.

you were almost out of this nightmare of a dress, before your zipper got stuck. “fuck,” you groaned.

“couldn’t wait for me before you started undressing?” your heard thomas’ deep voice from the door. he was teasing you, obviously, but you really weren’t in the mood for it.

“thomas, i’m tired. you try spending 8 hours in a dress of this size, then see if you want to tease me for trying to get out of it as soon as i can,” you quickly snapped back, and also quickly getting frustrated with the zipper.

he seemed to understand that you were not be messed with at the moment, so all he did was approach you, turn you around by your shoulders, and tug the zipper down until the dress pooled at your feet.

you hurriedly stepped out of it and sighed, feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders.

“thank you, thomas,” you said contently, rubbing your shoulders, not realizing your compromising position.

you were half naked, only covered by your meticulously created and tailored white lingerie, and knee-high white socks.

apparently, thomas’ eyes could not force themselves to your face, because even as you realized his gawking and called him out for being so materialistic, he wasn’t seeming to follow what you were saying.

instead, all he did was walk over to you, place his hands on your waist like his life depended on it, and kissed you deeply, the kind of kissed you yearned for at the alter.

you almost got lost in it, before all the horrible memories of this past night came flooding in. you quickly pushed him away and slapped him right across his perfect cheekbones.

“fuck was that for?” he’s asked as if he was taken aback, yet made no effort to move away from you.

you scoffed with a laugh, but nothing was funny. “you know, i would be surprised had i not known you,”

“what are you talking about?” he seemed as though he was getting mad at you being mad, which you caught and fueled your anger further.

you got up in his face, sticking your finger in his chest and spoke condescendingly to him.

“you know, you could at least wait until after the fucking wedding to start to begin practically sticking your dick in every woman you see!”

“we never agreed on loyalty! that wasn’t part of our arrangement!” his voice began to increase in volume as well.

you glued your eyes to his piercingly blue ones and leaned closer to him. “i hate you, thomas shelby.” you whispered, yet your tone was anything but gentle.

“yeah? well, you can bet i hate you more,” he stood straighter, his height forcing to you look up at him.

the two of you stood there, waiting to see who would break eye contact first. he did, looking down at your lips, but just as quickly, he was right back onto your eyes.

“fuck it,” his thick accent almost growled, grabbing your face and smashing his lips unto yours.

this one was different from the one earlier. that one was a feigned love, a lust. this one was angry, hateful, and sultry.

oh, how you hated him, however his aggression intrigued you, making you kiss back even harder, forcing your tongue into his mouth.

your lips stayed connected as tommy walked you back to his desk.

your tongues fought for dominance and only disconnected for air. he fumbled with his belt before sliding off his jacket and removing his shirt.

he roughly pulled down your panties and unclipped your bra with one hand.

“jump,” he muttered into your mouth. you do so and he catches you, preceding to sit you on the desktop.

tommy runs his middle finger down your slit, collecting the embarrassing amount of wetness from you.

he chucked lowly before gripping your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. “hate me, huh? i don’t think this cunt quite agrees with you,” he teased, but you were quick to rebuttal.

“i don’t think your dick agrees with your supposed hatred for me, either,” and you were right, his cock was painfully hard.

he suddenly decides he’s tired of teasing and pushes his full cock into you, bottoming out when he feels his tip prod at your gummy wall.

a choked gasp was emitted from you, and it sounded like heaven to thomas. he groaned as he pulled out almost all the way, then slammed into you again.

his speed is relentless, showing no mercy for your unprepared pussy. as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t deny how good it felt.

you wrapped you legs around his hips and tangled your hands in his hair before whispering in his ear, “i fucking hate you, hate you so fucking much,”

his growls were animalistic as his thrusts became more determined. “fuck you,” tommy gritted, right before a long since held in moan fell from his lips.

as much as you hated to admit it, you found your orgasm building in your stomach, the heat becoming unbearable.

“oh, shit, i’m gonna cum, oh my god,” you moaned loudly, your pussy tightening around him.

your release came to you in a hot white flash, your back arching impossibly more, your chest pressing against his, and you were on the very edge of the desk now.

a string of curse words and moans flowed from your lips like chords from a song tommy never wanted to end.

you whined at the sensitivity of your cunt, tommy not ever slowing down. “sh, sh, shhh. i know, i know, doll. i’m almost there, just hold on a little longer,”

soon, his hips met yours in one final, deep, long, thrust as he released bands of warm hot cum into you.

“fuck me, y/n,” he let out an exasperated laugh as he pulled out of you, watching the both of yours ecstasy pour from your abused hole.

“i believe i just did, thomas.”

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #cillian murphy #tommy shelby fanfic #oneshot #kaia writes! 💌#this was sooo fun #i need to write more for him #send asks you guys !!!!#kaia writes tommy

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sadiewayne · 14 days

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something that kind of annoys me is when peoiple genuinely criticise tom taylor's nightwing run by saying "dick is so out of character in those 2 issues where he gets the shit beaten out of him and then falls through his window"

that is taken out of the context of dick recovering from a traumatic brain injury so yeah he's going to be off balance after being whacked in the head MULTIPLE TIMES what are you talking about?!?!

it's ok, just breathe

the panel for reference

Nightwing (2016) #83 pp. 12

don't believe me?

dick gets shot in the head just above his left ear, which you can see in both of these panels and in the cover for nightwing (2016) #50 (if you pretend if's a mirror image bc why is it on the right)

Batman (2016) #55 pp. 21 Nightwing (2016) #50 pp. 2

Nightwing (2016) #50 Cover

you can also see his brain scans in the same issue which nicely show the area of damage and literally list what happened

Nightwing (2016) #50 pp. 2

so he lost bone (skull), blood (obviously), brain tissue (we'll come back to this), cerebrospinal fluid (bc there was a whole in his head), and suffered from severe vascular swelling (we'll return here too)

so, what brain tissue did dick lose?

here's the very basic anatomy of the human brain

John Hopkins Medicine - https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/anatomy-of-the-brain (i drew the red circle)

now the ears sit just in front of the cerebellum, roughly somewhere around the red circle which lines up with the brain scan showing the damage is roughly in that notch where the temporal lobe and parietal lobe meet

the temporal lobe is involved with speech, rhythm, and short term memory

the parietal lobe is involved with pain and touch recognition, recognising objects, and oh would you look at that, spatial recognition

dick go shot in the part of the brain that tells the body where it is in relation to objects

no wonder he had a hard time fighting and trying to climb through windows, his coordination was all fucky

now the cerebellum is the part of the brain that affects balance BUT but but but we haven't talked about vascular swelling yet

vascular swelling is where the walls of the blood vessels swell (whodathunk) and this causes a reduction in the blood supply as they swell inwards

outward swelling with increase pressure on the brain which is not good either BUT this reduced blood flow = less oxygen to the brain = damage

there's a reason the symptoms of hypoxia pre-passing out are pretty much limited to your brain bc that's the organ that goes first

so with a decrease in bloodflow to his brain, there is a decent change damage was also done to every single part of his brain

now the blood supply does come in past the cerebellum so tbh there probably wouldn't be that much damage if at all however even with that it would explain how dick was still effected from getting shot

so having learned all that, lets take a look at issues 81 & 83 shall we

in #81...

Nightwing (2016) #81 pp. 5

he gets whacked in the head by heartless, someone with enhanced strength

Nightwing (2016) #81 pp. 12

he passes out because he's been whacked on the head near to where he was shot

Nightwing (2016) #81 pp. 13

this is nicely confirmed by babs

Nightwing (2016) #81 pp. 19

he gets pushed back whilst fighting and due to his injury induced lack of spatial awareness, he falls down the stairs

then in #83, after fighting blockbuster, almost getting shot again, and flying through a helicopter...

Nightwing (2016) #83 pp. 12

he falls through his window

so yeah, i do think this is reasonable for dick to do given he's recovering from a brain injury and has just been hit in the head and probably hit it whilst falling down the stairs

and if you've made it this far, i want to emphasise the 20 million valid reasons to criticise tom taylor's nightwing run, but this just isn't one of them

#this is so pointless but i just have to #brought to you by my in progress biochemistry degree #nightwing #dick grayson #ric grayson #tom taylor #tom taylor nightwing #dc comics #comics #sadies dick grayson

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butterscotchpiesandguys · 4 months

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Student Becomes the Teacher

It was a familiar experience to me, getting in my car, going to class early, doing homework. Felt nice. Of course what was also familiar was the bullying. You see I had recently gotten fired and had a wake up call. I needed to do something better with my life. So what did I do? i, as someone so smart would do, joined a technical institute. I went into a more financial side though. This did not make me popular with my classmates who had been there longer, were usually older, and most of which were more hands on.

They would call me a nerd, a loser, and a geek. Of course I didn't care all too much about this. Harassment was just that, and quite frankly it was some annoying dumb ass adults who couldn't even think straight enough to get a job that was actually needed. This attitude also made me very unpopular. So unpopular a teacher complained. Why? Cause he had heard some of the stuff me and my field would say about the welders.

It was just stuff like how they're stupid, all have at least one DUI, won't amount to anything. Stuff like that. He went so far to complain to the head administrator of the school. Now he used to be an electrician so he knew how it was to be hands on. He loved hearing about all of this and hatched a plan. The workload for the welders had been pretty overwhelming for just one instructor...

It was only a few days before I heard murmurs of a new instructor coming on campus, of course it was some welder... not like my section could get anything. But that same week I was called into an office at campus. I expected nothing much, maybe an odd thing I lost, although what it was I could not imagine... what I didn't expect was the head administrator.

"Hello [Y/N], we just wanted to talk to you today." Oh god what was it about, he could see how nervous I was. It was humiliating but also I needed to try and keep cool. "We had received some complaints about your attitude towards the welders and electricians, I just wanted to go through a few questions with you, that ok?"

Without knowing what to do I nodded, "Y-yes sir." I gulped a bit.

"Good, so first... is it true you had said to Taylor that he was a... no good stoner with no future? Is that true?" I tried to shake my head no but it went the opposite way. "Ah, glad you were honest with me. Well... you know here we like to give second chances to anyone right?" I shook my head in agreement. "In that case, any felonies you have?"

What felonies? What kind of- "Yeah, actually I've had a dui or two, got arrested for a fight or two... or more." What was I saying?! What the hell?!

"I appreciate your honesty... Tom was it?" What kind of name was that? It wasn't my name at all? Wait why did I nod?! "Yeah, well that's gonna be tough but your students generally would relate. The head administrator smiled at me. "We can wave those away since your track record for your work is pretty good."

"Glad to hear that." I said again in that weird voice. What the hell was happening... why did I suddenly remember welding and shit... What the hell...

"Yeah... I think you'll fit right in, Tom." Why was he being so devilish right now?!

"Thanks man, really need this." I chuckled as I stood up and walked out of the room. "Startin next thursday right?"

"Yup! Just wear somethin like that when you come in! We'll get a shirt in your size soon!" He laughed as I walked out, the window in the door showing a new reflection.

My face was more dashing, a bit older as well. My hair was messy but in an almost purposeful way. My body had grown quite a bit of muscle now... hair as well. Tattoos had been put on my body frivolously! I looked like some typical douche bag!

I walked through the halls, trying to see on my phone what had happened. My background was a picture of a motorcycle. Jessie... what? Who the hell was Jessie? My contacts had some girls in there and some guys I had no clue who they were. Going through the messages they were my drinking buddies and some hookups.

I continued until the electrician teacher stopped to talk. "Hey are you..." I wanted to say my actual name but that didn't pop out.

"Yeah, name's Thomas Wylder. You can just call me Tom though." I smiled at her... it was like my body moved on it's own. "New teacher here, welding." Wait...

We started to talk in the hall for a bit, just about staff in the school and how the welders were. She described them as younger than me and rowdy. I would make douchey comments or state shit about my life. Where I now lived, how many years I had been a welder and in the union. It was like I wasn't even me anymore. Eventually I cut it short, needing to go do some "tasks" at my home.

I went outside to find it... the same motorcycle from the picture. Jessie. I put on a leather jacket and no helmet... I could ride it with no issue though. I was still wondering how or why this happened. It was as if I was... no... the head administrator wouldn't do that would he?

I eventually got back to wherever my home was. Beaten up shithole kinda... not in a good neighborhood either. I waved to a neighbor and went in. Smelt like shit, I reached in my pocket and took out a cig and started smoking... no... I was the worst kind of person. The kind I hated. Dumb, arrogant, douchey, and toxic! It was awful!

2 MONTHS HAD GONE BY

I was now regularly teaching the class, about two weeks into this hellish experience I had started to regain full control of my life. While I tried to actually stop these worse traits, I couldn't. By that point they were ingrained into me. Now I acted like a douchey teacher, the kinds you hate. The ones that will just tease or make fun of nerdy kids. Of course I was well loved by the staff and my students.

I worked as a welder and taught the trade now. I hated it... but it gave me money to pay the lifestyle I never wanted. I don't think I deserved this but... I'm slowly coming around to it. I feel more confident and hey, I even hang out with some of the douchebags I had teach me when I went here... god I sound so old now... I hope someday I can reverse this before it's way too late.

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hollybell51 · 10 months

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If I don't have you

Navigation

Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip.

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?”

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened.

“That was fucking insane!” you burst.

“Are you ok?”

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you.

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers.

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back.

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.”

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.”

“A bullet graze!”

“It’s fine.”

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.”

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !”

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics.

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes.

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him.

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah.”

Another silence, though less tense.

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest.

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso.

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted.

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–”

“No, (Y/N)–”

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall.

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast.

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled.

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?”

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own.

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–”

No one’s coming.

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!”

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear.

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him – were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him.

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should.

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards.

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed.

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle.

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back.

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath.

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you.

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure.

“(Y/N).”

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive.

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…”

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.”

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know.

“For yelling at me?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–”

“All that matters. You said.”

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle.

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.”

The frown deepened. “Hm?”

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real.

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely.

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.”

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek.

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up.

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore.

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.”

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his.

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too.

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition.

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt.

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything.

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt.

“Huh?”

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?”

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine.

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone.

“Yeah.”

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?”

Again, “Yeah.”

You smiled. “What about me?”

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.”

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it.

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity.

“What else?” you asked.

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.”

Oh. Oh.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys.

“Can–”

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair.

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.”

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.”

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit.

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders.

“Hm?”

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.”

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?”

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face.

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises.

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–”

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad.

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–”

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders.

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again.

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail.

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him.

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification.

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?”

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.”

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Say it again.”

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?”

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again.

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap.

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand.

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.”

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?”

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?”

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.”

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–”

“Insane?”

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?”

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.”

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again.

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?”

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other.

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.”

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined.

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece.

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.”

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.”

“Hm?”

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?”

“(Y/N)–”

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–”

“In me.”

“You sure?”

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–”

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter.

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress.

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit.

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned.

“What?” he asked.

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything.

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?”

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?”

He nodded.

“I still want to check them.”

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?”

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.”

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.”

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?”

“Yeah.”

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.”

“Guess I’m just that special.”

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

#ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #mission impossible #shameless smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #tom cruise

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